#its somewhat natural for me to use it so if ive been talking to someone i use it with a whole lot before switching to a diff convo-

[ratgingi]

I was gonna say typing quirks are really cool and you shouldn't feel bad for using them (which is still true) but your therapist. you talked to your therapist with a typing quirk /lh

unfortunately. yes

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i'm so happy you liked it!!! wow, you're just as insane as I am. life is good. our thoughts are in sync. the tragedy that speaks to the core. thank YOU. it's refreshing to let your slightly crazy thoughts out there and be welcomed. im absolutely insane for their dynamic (im dying to live this). you have no idea (im losing it). i personally think gojo would be relieved once he's king, he's in control now, it's natural to him. there are more possibilities and he's so prepared. but you know what? becoming king has its duties and one of them is that prince!gojo's hand has been promised before he was born. i wonder how he'd cope with that knowing he belongs to someone else. i like to think he'd rebel and refuse the marriage completely (for personal, selfish reasons), but again he isn't childish in the sense of ignoring politics completely, yes? behind playful comments he is indeed a smart man. after all, he was raised to become this. he knows how to navigate the world and understands that his decisions can have massive political impact (and that this can also be negative for his knight, right? he cannot risk losing the power and privileges he owns, how would he be able to protect them? he must play the game as is). i think this might be one of the moments in his life where he'll be the most conflicted. but he'd play nice and polite when his fiance comes to visit him (i think due to gojo's natural disdain for his fiance, casual visits would be encouraged a few weeks before marriage). the first sting of jealousy knight!reader feels and oh. that's when they realize the nature of their feelings for prince!gojo. that it goes a little beyond what they thought. their dynamic might shift a little, things become uncertain and confused. knight!reader might dissociate between it all, not allowing selfish feelings to get in the way. and gojo's so annoyed and he wishes the whole building would just collapse and burn with everyone in it. and there knight!reader is, not so far away, shining only for his eyes. prince!gojo looks at them like begging for forgiveness, help, love and sadness all together while the lady by his side tries to get his attention. it's pathetic, he thinks. but his heart is somewhere else, it belongs to someone else for fucking sake!!! can't anyone see that? their first kiss would probably happen during this time I think. i can see him finding knight!reader at night, carrying the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders. and when his eyes land on them relief washes over him. soft moonlight shyly on knight's confused face asking 'satoru, are you okay?' vulnerability! comfort! home! because they belong to each other deeply, a mere look on each others face is enough to understand something is wrong. the kiss!! his little act of rebellion. he's so proud of it after, it's cute af. can you see? the blushing and all!! difficult times, ah the hurt!! at the end,,, i think ruling by himself is much gojo like, right? it would be somewhat controversial and there would be implications but to him it wouldn't be fair to fill a promise he didn't make, plus he's committed to his knight!reader already. ye? he'd learn so much and mature during this period as well. he'd find strength in his love and his love alone. it fills him with a supernatural sense of responsibility that he finally understands that knight!reader went through (though only a little, as he doesn't get his hands dirty nor commit acts of violence (i hope he does, sincerely)). and yess,,, sorry, it was too much again. or if it doesnt resonate with you, haha. omg. i am simply happy in my element talking to you. yes, uhm. you can call me momo/crazymomo if thats ok? it was supposed to be 'crazymomo' but i guess it kind got f'ed up in the way and i just didnt care about fixing it. im bringing you cake ok!!!!!

HI MOMOOO u r feeding us yet again!!!!! and same same same, its so fun to be insane together i appreciate u sm <333 mickey rlly is a genius bc ive never seen a character/reader dynamic thats caused as much insanity as knight!reader & prince!gojo they had me in a chokehold from the get-go

and OHHH these thoughts momo!!!! so tasty and interesting, i lovelovelove hearing more abt how u interpret them!! when it comes to dynamics like these i feel like everyone has their own take on them at least to some degree and i think its SOSO fun to compare!!!!

BUT OKOK let me get thru this!!! i had so much fun reading this and thinking abt it, u brought up so many things i hadnt considered yet!!

OK SO. king!gojo…… after some contemplation i think i definitely agree w u momo. i feel like satoru relaxes once he has the throne. its tough and a huge responsibility, a weight on his shoulders, but its no longer hanging over him as a burden he’ll one day have to bear, its something he’s gained and grown used to and i think he earnestly loves making a change in the society he lives in. and!! i think he is soso loved. i see him as the type to visit poorer villages all the time, financially support struggling mothers, speak to their babies and hold them all gently HES JUST SO… hes such a good man im gonna be sick. ABSOLUTELY helps all orphans he comes across they may or may not remind him of a certain knight so he cant bear to look away from them

(i do think he still longs to run away w knight!reader tho…. its just a nice daydream to him atp bc its impossible in so many ways but i think he hates the fact that being king means hes moved even further above them on the social ladder)

BUT ANYHOW ANYHOW lets get to the juicy bits. the engagement bits. i have my own take on this that differs from urs a little bit momo but i think urs is soso good and nice and romantic… and i agree on a lot too!! specifically this ohhh u get him soso well!!

behind playful comments he is indeed a smart man. after all, he was raised to become this. 

(…)

(and that this can also be negative for his knight, right? he cannot risk losing the power and privileges he owns, how would he be able to protect them? he must play the game as is.)

^ i agree soso much!!!! i think prince!gojo is very very clever, he enjoys acting goofy and has a very genuinely silly side but i do think hes both intelligent and mature. especially when it comes to politics, both for the sake of his own sense of duty AND what you said — for the sake of knight!reader!! they’re his motivation to become king in the first place, so i don’t see him doing anything that’ll cause too much of a stir; but at the same time… he gets away with a lot.

i do think rejecting his fiancee completely as a prince might be too much (his parents let him do as he pleases for the most part, but theyre not fun to deal with when they start to feel threatened lol), but once hes become king… well.

i think you’re right, momo!! he chooses to lead the nation on his own, with no queen by his side — only one very loyal knight. 

(on the topic of heirs though since thats kind of connected to this… obviously his decision causes quite a stir. who will lead the kingdom when hes gone? a king with no firstborn — how scandalous. and so on.

but satoru doesn’t care. he continues to live his life, do his duty. visiting villages, dealing with neighouring countries… and, well. maybe one day he happens to run into a particularly clever assassin, with a scar on his bottom lip, escaping by the skin of his teeth and thanks to his knight — and, who knows? maybe said assassin, bleeding out, murmurs something about a child, a run-down building, a young life soon to be lost… and maybe satoru finds said child. maybe he even feels compelled to look after him, just for a while, because that unruly hair and those guarded eyes remind him a bit too much of a certain someone.

and if satoru grows fond of said boy, if he raises him as a candidate for the throne, but with an understanding and sympathy that he never received himself — then that’s no one’s business but his own.)

my bad i got carried away PHDKFJFJ back to the topic at hand. (i just needed to bring gumi into this narrative hes my special little boy ALSO maybe just maybe suguru finds an orphaned boy in the woods w pink hair who he takes in and raises as a knight hmmmm.. wonder what that’s all about…..) SORRY IM SORRY theres. so much to think abt when it comes to this au…………..

but anyways. i think satoru abolishes the marriage the moment he becomes king — but until then hes polite, well-mannered, maybe even a tad friendly w his fiancee. just to make it easier for the both of them. he does however make it very, very clear that this is a business partnership in his mind — its not a marriage of love, it never will be. and he’s firm about it. he has no intention of leading her on.

i think he might even go as far as to say his heart belongs to someone else (hes giggling on the inside bro gets butterflies at the thought of belonging to his knight in any way shape or form), with no specifics since he doesnt want to get knight!reader into any kind of trouble with the royal court.

but yes!! this is where i think our takes differ a bit (not at ALL a bad thing i just need to make that clear!!) bc i dont rlly see knight!reader being jealous!! i see their relationship with satoru as very comfortable, w a strong sense of understanding between them. it isnt entirely romantic or entirely platonic — if i had to put it in simple terms i’d just call them soulmates. they were born to save each other. and i think both of them understand that! knight!reader is well aware that satoru doesnt feel a single thing for his fiancee, because he makes it so clear that no one has a place at his side except for knight!reader themselves. so in that sense i dont see that uncertainty appearing!! i think the only one between them who feels frustrated is satoru.

and gojo's so annoyed and he wishes the whole building would just collapse and burn with everyone in it. <- THIS IS SOOOO CANON TO ME BTW i think that when ppl are being annoying around the castle a tiny voice in his head is like ”i hope this building fucking explodes” PHDNDBD HES SO DRAMATIC…. but in this case i think hes just so frustrated, especially if his fiancee/parents make the whole engagement more troublesome than it has to be.

on that note i just gotta mention;

and there knight!reader is, not so far away, shining only for his eyes. prince!gojo looks at them like begging for forgiveness, help, love and sadness all together while the lady by his side tries to get his attention. it's pathetic, he thinks. <- GOD THIS ONE GOT ME THIS ONE GOT ME GOOD momo pls stop im in agony </3 ohhh the way his eyes reflect his soul those sad sad puppydog eyes ☹️☹️ i would fold instantly

so in simple terms!! i think knight!reader and toru feel very at home in their dynamic. i dont think knight!reader would mind at all if satoru got a fiancee — if she made him happy i think they’d even grow fond of her. theyre just very kind and accepting, and dedicated to their prince’s happiness above all else. (but, of course, satoru’s happiness only ever lies with them 😔 stupid silly dense knight.) 

BUT THE KISSSS OHHH THE KISS MOMO…. i see your vision so SO clearly. i picture their kiss by the riverbank like this too — satoru does it w/o thinking overcome by fondness and hes all giggly and giddy after. hes just happy to be alive PDJJDFJ 100% goes for a forehead kiss right after bc his heart is just bursting at the seams and his favorite person ever is right there in front of him!! all blushy and unsure!!! ohhh hes OBSESSED momo u get it ofc u do… ur version of events is so lovely and sweet!! i can really picture is so vividly!!

ANYWAY that was so fun pls never apologize, i lovelovelove long asks like this!! it was such a treat to read!! <33 IM BRINGING U A BIG CAKE TOO tysm for blessing us w this 🎂 (lets share it hehe 🍰🍰) (+ extra piece for mickey in case they see this here u go mickey 🍰)

[effervescentdragon]

just my two cents on the reblog ratio issue. we can all agree that a reblog is what makes posts circulate but I think we have to remember that tumblr is a place to curate your own personal blog page / like your digital fridge door that you can put stuff up on and walk past and go 🥰! and just because its not on the door itself doesn’t mean it isn’t appreciated ie. why some people like a post vs reblogging it. maybe it’s because I’ve been here too long but I make sure that what I reblog fits on my actual blog page and make sure it fits a certain ~aesthetic. maybe its the recent nature of the website also to not visit peoples actual blog pages (which I encourage more people to do! just because it’s not on your dash doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist!) and now everything being much more dash focused but thought I’d share.

hiii :) thank you for the ask, it is a good point. i agree completely that everyone should curate their own experience, absolutely, and im not talking about like, expecting my tolkien mutuals to reblog my f1 rpf fanfics, or to read them. i am actually not expecting anything of anyone now that i think of it, i may not have been clear about it before xD

what i've been trying to say, and im unsure if thats how it came off, is to explain how these ratios look and feel from the pov of a content creator and what it means to us, and in the process maybe encourage someone who is unsure or reluctant to come and share their thoughts and interact with me/us, and to never think that their thoughts arent appreciated. i realize not everyone runs their blog the way i do (and when i say run, i mean that in the broadest sense of the word because mine is probably a mess that i try to organize by tagging, somewhat succesafully) and i wouldnt even think of telling people how to run their blogs, ever! im the firmest proponent of curating your own dash and experience in any way that feels comfortable to you. (general you i mean)

and i do agree, scrolling through blogs is also a dying action apparently, and i think people should be encouraged to do that too, because ive seen people think its annoying when its literally anything but.

you made some really good points here and thank you for that! i just also think that general decline in reblogs on any content is generally discouraging to a lot of content creators, and if these lil rants/explanations of mine make some people a bit less self conscious and more prone to sharing stuff they like, its a win-win situation.

and it is all meant without any pressure, genuienly, because not everyting is for everyone, and we all differ in how we approach thing, thats why its important to look at anything from multiple povs, so thank you for this ask and sharing your thoughts! 🥰

[softness-and-shattering]

What direction do I wanna start this in

Someone good naturedly asked me today if ive been assessed for adhd

YuPppp

Im stalling

Ok so I got up the saving the grove party. Spoke to everyone. Considered propositioning Halsin, spoke to Laezel who propositioned me. She does not mince words. Told her Id think about it. Ive only had a romantic scene with Shadowheart and expected a proposition from her, but no just talk of enjoyment now penance later. Yeah Im probably not gonna pursue her now with that penance comment.

Wyll Im not using bc as Ive discovered I struggle with warlocks. Maybe easier as not-my-main but Im not bothered. So that left Karlach. (I double-failed to save Gale including a nat one, from the rock, so alas he perished there on that beach with nothing but a teleport marker to remember him by. Hmm can I sst up some kind of monument. Of wizard hats perhaps. It bears contemplation (no thats Halsin)). I tell Karlach I like her and shes so thrilled. Her little "Yes!" as she turns away ugh. Dammon had just tuned up her engine so I thought she was ok now. She hasnt been touched in ten years except in utter violence she deserves a cuddle at least. A hand hold. Bap her nose. Something. She seems like a very physical person with her dancing amd everything. I wanna summon her a pet to cuddle like cmon.

Regardless the scene is really swet and hot. The thing is. My guy is trans. And she says "I wanna ride you till you see stars" (hott). Uh we dont have that equipment....which leads me to surprising character building, Im playing a bard. He has to have at least 3 straps in his bag, maybe 6 or 7 to be excessive. And bet there are magical ones that feel like the real thing in Faerun. Im deciding there are.

I also like Karlach and Laezel together as a battle wife couple but I rarely need both of them in the party together. And I was considering playing as polyam as possible for fun but my research tells me Karlach and Laezel are both monogamous, Asterion doesnt like me much, no Gale, meh to Wyll and probably not Shadowheart anymore so. I was considering.

But Karlach. Its not even the strappy leathers tbh, I wamna buy her better clothes, better strappy leathers perhaps because hers have literally been to hell and back and find they look messy in a way thats unappealing to me. Id usually be into the leather tbh.

Shes so cheerful and forthright, she sings and dances, shes so joyous to be alive in a really genuine infectious way. Theres nothing preachy about it. She has no guile. I love her.

And its interesting to me because the way my particular flavour of aceness works - and yes this is probably a somewhat allo experience as well, you dont have to tell me - theres a million varied abnd theoretical layers of attraction up till like, actually yes I would do them if they wanted.

So like, Astarion the whole trickys vampire thing. Im into that in a game or a fic but I dont love it. Happy to see where it goes and have some fun. Anything remotely real-life, absolutely not I also dont know if I want to be his friend.

Laezel....hot yes but more distant. She doesnt share of herself. As a theoretical one night stand, or something super casual, sure. Irl, nope absolutely not, i dont think we'd be great friends but I could hope for mutual respect/not enemies. Exist peacably in the same circles.

Shadowheart I could be friends with occasionally but I could NOT be her therapist. I might not be there to hold her hand through her baggage either. Probably would turn down a proposition.

Wyll, eh hes attractive enough. Maybe as a one night/short term thing.

Halsin....idk how I feel about Halsin. Hes almost too wholesome? Mr druid peace with nature he doesnt want to be a leader. Id like to see him not as Mr Responsible with his hair down more. (I cant seem to add him to my party? Does he stay at camp?). With Halsin Im torn between desirr and fear of his bigness and strength. Which to some people might be ideal actually but Im not sure. I think I need to see more of his personality first. And thats def the aceness there.

Ive left her for last. Karlach. Shes my favourite. - Actually the only person whos come close is Elfira the tiefling bard, who sadly is not romanceable. Her cutscene with the song is the brightest joy and my favourite moment of thr game so far. The emotional honesty, the enthusiasm, the passion. (Am I starting to suspect I have a type. Its also often dark dashing boys like Kaz Brekker and Vaxildan but maybe its dark boys amd bright women. Idk.)

Karlach, if she were a real woman in front of me in the world I would say yes no hesitation. That is so rare for me.

Like I was being calculating about who to go with keep my options open and then she was so excited and shes just so deeply desirous not just of sex but also kind touch and also life, its kind of intoxicating. And shes jointly imagined and programmed and designed and voiced and she exists as software and art and thats beautiful?

Im a very inexperienced gamer. Ive never played or even heard of a game thats so normal about sex. Other games have sexuality but its like, seedy, theres a scene in a strip club or some gang boss has sex workers in their base, its always degrading. Theres shadowheart and her penance line, but like Keyleth in legend of vox machina, its very clearly the characters hangups, not the devs not the game experience. And here its just normal. You dont have to pursue anything with anyone. You can because its an adult game with adult characters. If you scroll the tags here you would think it was a dating sim.

I just think thats really cool, and Im really enjoying it. Thr only big thing missing is the same-time collaborative aspect that the devs cant extrapolate and create stuff influenced by our choices. Its more linear, they built in options, we collaborate by playing and making choices. But thats what tabletop games are for, not video games

If youve made it this far, re games. So far ivr played disco elysium, hades, and now bg3. Throw me some reccomendations please, Im enjoying all three. Oh and also In Other Waters, and Potionomics.

[faeriezlove4eva]

well

i feel bad for skater... he seems like he doesnt like hinself a lot and like thats a bit unfair since he's an amazing person! its horrible how the worst people always think so highly of themselves while the best always feel worthless... if i could give skater like... 2/5 of my ego, i think itd equal out and he'd be happier and i'd be less of a meanie (which, i cant give him some of my ego unfortunately, but it would if i could; itd solve both of our problems somewhat)

but besides hypotheticals, in general, he's an amazing person! hes funny, smart (at times), creative, well-meaning, kind, silly, and hes extremely skilled. ive only found myself annoyed at him minorly, which is a huge feet considering most people annoy me a lot. he, on the other hand, is like... the least horrible person on earth probably! he doesnt deserve to have such a low self esteem, he deserves to have a beautiful life where he can do whatever he wants and be happy doing it!!!

i think ill just start naming good things about him!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

well, for starters, he's surprisingly good at planning things. even if my impulse is known for leading me to the right path, his planning and ability to actually use maps (instead of running around trying to find the right path like me) is very nice!!!!!! thats a good skill to have

hes also amazing at art; his style is very nice. sometimes it doess seem a bit uh... wobbly (i guess) but it doesnt really matter to me since it still looks good no matter what!!! and when he does art that he colors & renders its so beauutifulll and amazing!!! hes also very good at animating. i mean, idk how to animate so any animation is good to me, but yk what i mean! hes pretty good at animating.

and he's a lot more chill than some others. another person ik is genuinely triggered by the word SKIBIDI. skibidi???? you gotta be kidding me. but me and skaterfan do "brainrot jokes" allll the time!!! he's so funny too. and we joke flirt a lot too. though, at this point, i think we both know we love each other (but idk if he sees it platonically or romantically. and honestly, idk how i see it either. maybe a mix of both?)

i mean, i guess i do love them to an extent but idk if i'd say its ROMANTIC. like, i wouldnt mind if he wanted to date, but i guess as long as were together i dont really care. though, im not sure if i want to verbally ask him if he wants to date... at least not yet. i feel like it'd ruin our beautiful friendship (though rn its more of a situationship, though i might be a lil delulu so idk) and then itd be awkward and eventually we'd stop talking... and ik that because i know myself and ik ill probably feel awkward about it and/or angry even if i try not to! which is natural human emotion but... i dont really want that to happen :/ itd be very inconvenient for my mental state and maybe his too if he feels the same. though, i'd never reject him! if i was dating someone, i'd probably break up with them for him loll he's so perfect and beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! well, idk if perfect is how i'd describe it, but its his imperfections that make him perfect blah blah blah... pretty much, he is the best living person on earth and nobody could convince me otherwise.

he's also very nice! i have a friend who barely responds to my texts, right? like they only talk to me if they need something most of the time. and one time skater like got his phone taken or something, and he couldnt respond (i didnt really care though since it normally happens to me, so my main feeling about it was "well its ok i guessss :P") and next time he responded he seemed guilty about something and he apologized for it? like.. wow... thats. the nicest thing anyones ever said after not responding to me!!! and he didnt even have to say sorry, considering i wasnt mad. also, the friend i mentioned earlier has been getting better at responding (surprisingly) andu hh... that good i guess

honestly, skater is like. amazing! he's the world to me (well, i only have like 4 friends so like. that makes sense) and uhh yeah. im tired and my nback hurts xddd mayhbe ill text him... but he seems like he needs some time alone. ig ill wait til the morningb (unless i decide to text, though he's probably asleep actually so nvm)

goodbyee

[whogavemoththerighttohyperfix]

Since these are out you know what that means? THEORY TIMEEEE

IM SO HYPED FOR THIS SCENE BECAUSE WE KNOW FOR A FACT ITS PROBABLY A SPARROW VS LUTHER WHICH MEANS THE SPARROWS ARE PROBABLY GONNA APPEAR ONCE PER EPISODE WHICHE SOME PEOPLE WERE CONFUSED ABOUT SINCE THEIR ONLY CREDITED FOR 2 EPISODES

ALSO IM GONNA GUESS THAT CHRISTOPHER BEING RED MEANS HES MAKINH SOMETHING HOT LIKE HOW HES GREEN IN THE END OF S2, MAYEB GREEN IS HIS NATURAL, RED IS WHEN HE MAKES STUFF HOT AND SOMETHING LIKE BLUE FOR COLD ALSO FEI DEF USES HER POWERS IN THIS SCENE SINCE THE SPARROWS IN THE BACKGROUND WHICH SHE CAN TURN INTK SO IM HOPING WE GET ALOT OF SCENES WHERE SHE APPEARS LIKE DIMERESETSU(?how tf you spell it?) DAUGHTERS FROM RESEDENT EVIL VILLAGE CAUSE THATS HOW IVE ALWAYS IMAGINED HER PIWERS

THIS IS THE PHOTO IM TALKING ABOUT

NOW ONTO THE NEXT PHOTO

IM PRETTY SURE THIS IS FROM THE WORLD GREATEST BALL OF TWINE, IM PRETTY SURE THIS EPISODE WILL BE ABOUT THE SIBLINGS TRACKING DOWN WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM IN THIS TIMELINE AND WHERE THEY ENDED UP. ALSO WHAT THE SPARROW ACADEMY HAS BEEN UP TO BECAUSE THEYRE THE SAME AGE AS THE UMBRELLAS AND STILL FIGHTING CRIME TOGETHER WHICH MEANS THEY WERE PROBABLY SOMEWHAT SUCCESSFUL AND ENJOYED DOING CRIMEFIGHTING

ALSO SINCE FIVE HAS PLACES ON THE MAP CIRCLED AND ALSO NEW CLOTHES WHICH MEANS HES LOOKING FOR SOMETHING AND HOPEFULLY NOW ALONE THIS TIME SINCE HES TALKING TO SOMEONE IN THE PHOTO

Not much to say about this one sadly BUT ITS DEF GONNA BE INE OF THE FIRST SHOTS IN THE NEE SEASON, ALSO LOOK AT KLAUS FACE HES SO EXCITED TO SEE BEN WHICH IS GOING TO BE DEVASTATING, ALSO THIS IS PROBABLY WHERE HES GONNA SAY THE QUOTE THEY GAVE HIM ‘why is everyone looking at me like that’ ALSO THIS IS DIEGO, FIVE, LUTHER AND ALISONS FIRST TIME SEEING BEN GROWN UP WHICH IS JUST <\\3

ALSO IMAGINE VIKTOR THE LAST TIME HE SAW BEN HE WAS HUGGING HIM AS HE DIED WHILE TRYING TO HELP HIM, TEHER HAS TO BE GUILT FROM THAT RIGHT? I MEAN ITS VIKTOR WE’RE TALKING ABOUT

HONESTLY NOT MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THIS ONE AS WELL BUT AM I THE ONLY ONE KINDA HYPED THAT REGINALD IS IN THIS SEASKN CAUSE IMAGINE ALL THE ANGST AND DADDY ISSUES THE SIBLUNGS WILL BE GOUNG THROUGH SEEING THEIR VERY MUCH DESD DAD ALIVE AND PROBABLY TRUING TO KILL THEM.

ALSO I HAVE 0 CLUE WHY HES HOLDING THE COOKIE SEWING BOX BUT I DONT THINK ITS EITHER LIKE IT WOULD JUST SEEM WEIRD TO ME MY FIRST THOUGHT IS THAT THE KEY TO HITEL OBLIVUAN IS IN THERE OR SOMETHING AND THE TIN IS JUST SO NO ONE LOOKS IN IT

LILA IS HONESTLY SO PRETTY AAA ANYWAY I DONT RLY KNOW WHY SHES THETE BUT MY FIRST THOUGHT WAS HER GOING TO THE ACADEMY TO FIND THE SIBLINHS AND FINDING THE SPARROWS WHICH HONESTLU WOUDL BE A COOL FIGHT SCENE WITH HER WHOLE POWER AND ALL . ALSO THE ADDED FACT THAT THE SPARROWS DONT KNOW ABOUT HER POWERS AND WOULD DEFINITELY HATE AND TRY TO KILL HER FOR THEM BECAUSE THEY SEEM TO HAVE A HUGE EGO

SLONE AND JAYME ARE SO PRETTY LIKE HOLY SHIT ALSO THEY SEEM TO GET ALONG IDK I JUST GET THAT FEELINY BY THE PHOTO BUT LIKE NOT MUCH TO SAY ITS PROBABLY A SCENE IF THEM TRYING TO FIND THE UMBRELLAS AND MAUBE WE GET A CHANCE SCENE SIMILAR TO THE ONES IN THE BOWLING ALLEY AND FIVE IN THE MANNEQUIN SHOP

ANYWAY IM SO HYPED FOR THIS SEASON LIKE GENUINELY I CAN WAIT IT WILL BE AMAZING

[keilemlucent]

pretty eyes & starshine: i

(NSFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i   ||   part ii   ||   part iii

beta’ed: @shadowworks & @keiqos​ (thank you!! 💞)

word count: ~9.4k

Keigo surrenders to losing himself in the blank-walled, temporary home he inhabits. He finds familiarity in the routine of aches, pains and pills. 

You’re his only solace. 

warnings: bodily trauma, medical trauma, PTSD, dissociation, suicidal ideation, alcohol as a coping mechanism and graphic description of sustained injury

a/n: oh wow so here it is, big sad fic :’^) part one!! it’s canon divergent from manga chapter 296 onwards.

this one has been a long time coming. please mind the warnings!! this fic deals a lot with trauma and mental illness in tandem. the warnings are going to change with the coming parts, so please be mindful. i don’t wanna get too sappy, but this piece has been my Baby for the past few months, and i’m excited to finally share. that being said, enjoy loves 💞

Everyone is fucked up after the War.

There is no kindness in an aftermath like this one, not so soon, and certainly not with dried blood of old comrades and mud still caking under its metaphorical fingernails. The world was in shambles, and every hero is along with it.

There is something horrifying about being at the center of it all, Hawks, no, Keigo thinks solemnly, all too often. 

He’s used to the attention he’s getting, touches and poking and prodding by near strangers. Except, he was used to exclamations of how great and powerful and remarkable he was. Now, all the attention he receives is followed by little sighs and sad, broken eyes.

He’s sure he looks equally as sad; Keigo had been nothing but an empty shell since the War had ended and he’d been carted off to his hospital room. Numb despite all of his burns. 

It’s the shock, he tells himself, he’ll snap out of it any day.

Any day.

...

And it is any day.

He wakes up to screaming from the next room over, agonized wails that pierce the air as his morning nurse enters. She’s over-worked and haggard while checking his vitals with a forced smile. They don’t make conversation with him much anymore, and Keigo doesn’t have the energy to try and force it. There isn’t enough in him to pretend that he’s okay enough to banter with folks. 

If he still had his wings, he would’ve wrapped himself up tight in the plumage and let himself rot away in some corner. He’d let the dissociated numbness fade, however long it took, and then succumb to whatever psychological wounds revealed themselves. 

Waste away, all alone.

But he doesn't have that luxury. He is in an overcrowded hospital with swarms of civilians and heroes, all stuffed in one place because the world doesn’t have the time to differentiate between the wounded, nor the space or resources to give different resources. Though, Keigo is a special case, hence why he’s had healers coming to him for the past three weeks since the War trying to coax his body into genesizing a new pair of wings. 

The Commission’s hospital has all the bells-and-whistles that a medical professional could need, but Keigo, and so many others, are facing problems that don’t have good and easy roads to healing. 

That’s assuming healing was even possible.

Keigo is convinced, has been convinced, that there is no way to come back from the War, nor the absence on his back, nor the shouts and cries of pain that echo around the hospital like a new genre of music that Keigo so desperately wants to scrub from his brain.

Things change, it’s inevitable. Everyone falls eventually, and he was just used to flying.

It’s a harder descent. 

...

Keigo doesn’t meet you on any day, he meets you on a lonely night.

The evenings and early mornings were the most peaceful at the hospital. Most folks, three weeks after the end of it all, had serious enough injuries that they had to be somewhat sedated to sleep, either for physical or mental pain keeping them from sleep.

It’s morose, Keigo thinks, quietly and privately, but he craves those hours. All he hears then is the hum of air vents and beeps of his own medical machinery. None of the audible agony of the folks he was sworn to protect.

He’s slept most of the day, not lucid enough to do much else, and the nurses haven’t been giving him sedatives unless he asked (though he always did.) Without forced quiet, he’s antsy, fingers twitching and flaring the new (and growing) pains rooted in his (empty, isn’t that horrifying—) back.

He rouses himself, adjusting his scratching hospital garb (thin sweats and a cheap crew neck with the back almost entirely cut away). With his IV pole at his side, he resolves to take a few laps and quiet himself, hopefully.

(Keigo would need sedatives, he always did, but it was nice to play pretend that he didn’t. It made things easier for a precious hour or two.)

His laps are usually quick, despite how much his body aches when he walks. So much new, burnt tissue that needed to learn how to move, how to live again, kept him throbbing and gritting his teeth.

Masochism be damned, he keeps at it during his sleepless nights. Physical therapy wasn’t an option when the world was caving in with him at the epicenter.

There’s a common room at the end of the foyer of identical (filled) hospital rooms, just a collection of stuffy, uncomfortable couches that face an aged TV and a wide bay of windows. It’s rarely used, just a formality for when the space of the hospital had regularly hurt victims and heroes. When it wasn’t bearing so much weight. 

Sometimes, he would stop to idly regard the mostly barren world around the hospital. Far from the cities, a little hideaway for heroes and their loved ones to heal in privacy. Other than sheer distance, there is a thick, organic shield around the complex.  It’s a towering forest, man-planted with identical types of trees in perfect rows. 

It’s grim in its predictability. 

(When did he get so fucking pensive?)

(Oh yeah, too much time locked in his goddamn skull.)

He hadn’t been planning to have any inner musings that night.

But, that night, he notes that he is not alone. 

On one of the hard couches, you sit, with your own IV-pole companion and injuries, an arm carried in a monochromatic sling and set in a hard cast.

You turn to him, blinking wide eyes at him.

There’s a single lamp on, and the light dances in your eyes with its own unexpected rhythm.

Something compels Keigo to smile, cocky, like he used to, and greet you with a little wave, and a finger to his lips.

Your expressions melts, a hand going over your mouth to stifle a giggle.

It’s like you’re pulling him after that, he finds himself resting across from you.

You must look like a pair, he realizes. You’re greasy, he’s greasy. He’s got a fine layer of built-up stubble that shouldn’t be called anything other than impressive peach fuzz (not that Keigo’s seen it, he’s felt it. The idea of looking in a mirror makes him sick to his stomach. Though you don’t have any pseudo-beard, you’ve got your own unkempt look and feel that makes you two kindred without sharing a word.

It feels comfortable, warm.

“Hi,” you speak first, voice soft and gentle. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nah, who can?” Keigo replies, shaking his head. “But what about you? Midnight oil doesn’t burn without a cause, you know.” 

Your expression is also painful in the way it’s so open, yet worn (most everyone had locked up by now, the ones in the hospital and Keigo imagined the ones outside of it too.) 

“I like the sky— the stars are pretty.” You sigh, wistful. “I watch for shooting stars.”

The thought, the significance of that obvious wanting, makes something pang deep in his chest. Childlike hope in a place like this, foolish as well as frail.

“Trying to get a wish?” Keigo clicked his tongue. “Smart.”

“No, no— wishing doesn’t... suit me, right now.” You snorted, shaking your head, the light in your eyes dancing, “I just think they’re pretty.”

Keigo blinks, unable to stop the way his eyes widen.

Your posture reads nothing but earnestness and vulnerability, so freely given (so undeserved) without a hint of pullback.

“What do you want to be called?”

“... Excuse me?” Keigo is not used to his thoughts being interrupted in the blanket of dark that he feels most comfortable in. Your words shock him enough with their meaning, let alone the way you’re so brazen. 

“I, uh,” You stumble on your words. “I know who you are, but I also saw that whole broadcast, which I’m going to easily assume you don’t want to talk about. But, I don’t know how much you want to be called ‘Hawks’ at this point either.”

His mouth is dry.

“So, I ask instead,” You lean forward, your IV line pulling the slightest bit and you wince. His discomfort must be very fucking apparent, because you backtrack in moments. “... Or, neither. I can call you something else, too.”

“... A nickname, for someone you don’t even know?” Keigo, Hawks, whoever he is now struggles with words. There’s too many, and they’re all too fast, and he doesn’t have his wings to catch up to them or outrun them— 

“Yeah, why not?” You shrug with a lazy smile. “I’ll call you... pretty eyes. How about that?”

Keigo does have pretty eyes. They’re gold, light and glittering amber in the lowlight. Before he, ya’ know, lost them, and when things were good, but awful, but normal, he darkened the organic marks around his canthi with liquid eyeliner. He liked makeup, prettied himself up and accentuated all the good he had. Preening.

None of that is left, just what organically was on his skin, and he hasn’t seen it in its raw state in years, and like fuck if he was going to look in a mirror just to figure out if his natural eyeliner was half as good as that by his own hand. 

“Sure, that works,” He relaxes, mirroring your expression like the practiced... pro he is. “What do I call you, starshine?”

You roll your eyes, but nothing about you fades as you tell him your name, something that calms and fills him, “But, you can call me starshine if you want. Sounds nice.”

It’s sweet.

So, Keigo greets you.

“Nice to meet you, starshine.”

...

That’s the first time you kept each other’s company. Most of it is quiet, you truly do just want to watch the stars. Keigo did with you, tracing the shadows of clouds and moonlight with his eyes.

(Occasionally, his gaze shifts to you, regarding your figure with the same care for only a moment before returning to the sky you both miss.)

Eventually, the quiet heat of it puts him half to sleep, and he bids you goodnight.

You wave goodbye, rising as he away.

The light isn’t in your eyes anymore, and your warmth feels a little too far away.

...

The next days are long.

He slips into that shell-state again, where he’s a husk that stares emptily at the ceiling as the Commission tries to piece him together to a fraction of what he once was. 

They fail, each time, because no healer they’ve brought can regenerate quirk-formed appendages, but he commends their efforts all the same. It’s out of desperation, sure, but he’s heard whispers of the new generation. In recalling his own sidekicks, he isn’t as scared for the future. 

(Everyone else’s future. He’s so terrified of his own that he turns extra numb if he thinks about it.) 

Selfishly, he just wants his wings for himself. They’d keep him plenty company. If he ever did get them back, he’d fly somewhere, faraway and alone to live out his days under his feathers and feel as empty as he wanted. 

They fuss over him all day, not knowing those desires. They are private, and he only puts on his old, self-confident bravado so they don’t lock him up somewhere to have his brain picked and to fill the new holes with pill-shaped gauze. 

As established, Keigo was content to rot.

(He can’t fully parse all of his feelings and they consume him.)

The healers for the week all failed, doing nothing but making his back bow and burn. It’s painful. Obviously, trying to stitch a body back together, or rather making a body make when it was so tired of creating—

(Feather after feather after feather, for how long?)

He’s glad his sessions are in a different room, a spare, horrifyingly metallic exam room across the hospital. It reeks like iron and isopropyl alcohol, but Keigo doesn’t mind. The filmy paper that rolls from the exam table gets soaked with his sweat as opposed to his familiar bed dressings. 

Not to mention, it’s nice, not having to hear his neighbor’s screams and pleadings to God, any god, for reprieve. Calming. 

(He feels less guilty. Less like it was his own hand that scarred up their bodies. If he can’t hear them, he only thinks of his own agony under ‘helping’ hands.)

His body is exhausted at the end of each day, and even his restlessness fades with the necessities of his body.

He doesn’t see you, and practically forgets about you.

It’s a week or so later when he takes one of his strolls, and finds you tucked away into your nook, dimly lit and with a blanket over your lap.

Keigo feels it as he nears you, that comfort that your expression bleeds into his very soul. Even as he watches your healthy hand nervously toy with the thin knit in your lap, it doesn’t dim you.

The lamplight dances in your eyes as you nod to him, “Fancy seeing you here, pretty eyes.” 

“You’d never know it, but I live just down the hallway— me,” He touches his chest proudly, surprised by his own jest. 

You gave a fake gasp, mirroring him easily, “Never knew I had such a well-known soul in my neighborhood. Forgive my transgression.”

Bending at the waist, as much as you can with your right leg extended, straight, you choke on laughter.

Keigo follows you in it, giggling, genuinely giggling, high and light and girlish like he’d never heard from himself before.

He snapped his mouth shut, thickly swallowing and shaking his head.

“No need to be shy,” You assured him with an affectionate turn of the head. “You have a lovely laugh.”

“Now you’re just flirting with me, cute.”

Your head tilted farther, confused, “I’m simply being kind to you.”

Why didn’t he have the snark to reply to that? Probably because he was half-dead and on painkillers for nearly a month. He’d beat himself up about it later, maybe.

There wasn’t an ounce of malice in your tone, just earnestness that tugged at his own insecurities.

You backpedaled. “How was your day?”

Keigo takes a few moments to respond, shaking his head without mind to the way his too-long hair flops in his face. 

The banter isn’t forced, but it’s not welcomed yet.

As comfortable as you feel to him, Keigo isn’t comfortable.

“Same old, same old,” Living hell. “Boring, mostly. Painful, but dull. It’s crazy how much hell smells like cheap disinfectant, huh?” 

You agree, quietly, “I’m pretty sure there’s many hells in this place.”

Keigo doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t. 

You both regard the stars again with growing reverence. Specks of light dance back in your eyes as you both settle into the hard cushions like they were made of goose down and Sherpa. 

...

Your conversations are... disjointed, to say the least. 

There’s an inability for words and phrases to flow between you. There’s starts and stops, stalls like an engine that putters on tarry oil without ever truly firing. There are good feelings, still, safety in silence before words as you stargaze together through the comfort of a window.

It should feel disarming, to be so far from the sky yet have no way to reach it. And it is, but Keigo can swallow the reality these days. It’s easier when there’s someone on the mend close by, sharing in the discomfort of a rawed mind and the comfort of a yellow-toned fluorescent bulb.

It’s unspoken kinship. Keigo never had time for it in the past, but now it was all he had. There had to be some cruel irony in it (as if there wasn’t enough in his life), but he couldn’t make himself mind. 

Everything he’d once excelled at, everything he had was gone. He was barren and stripped (don’t think about it—), exposed to the elements in all the worst ways. At least the hospital was clean and safe, relatively. 

It feels safest with you near.

Sure, your conversations were clearly that of two horribly broken people, but that wasn’t new or surprising. It simply was.

“Do you know constellations?” You ask one night, a colder one, where you’ve got two blankets over your lap. 

Keigo thought for a moment, “A handful, but I never took to stargazing, you know?”

You don’t relate, just chew your lip, the light of the dim lamp dancing across your irises.

“Can I show you some?” 

“...Constellations?”

“What else?” You crack a smile. “Come on, pretty eyes.”

Whatever you’d like, he’d do. 

He can’t refuse, he’s already getting weak for you. 

Shifting, Keigo joins you on your typical couch for the first time. Your IV poles, thrumming and humming their own rhymes harmonize, quietly and mostly imperceptible. 

You regard him even more warmly, so close, a little smile playing on your lips.

“What’s your sign?”

Keigo deadpans, “What?”

“Like... astrology. What’s your sign?”

You wiggle your eyebrows, knowing the double-meaning of your words. 

Flirting again.

Since when had he been so bad at it?

“Capricorn,” He huffs back. He keeps his back off the stone-like cushions of the couch— his scarring had been itchy the whole day prior— so itchy— 

You tap the plastic-y fabric gap between the two of you, grabbing his attention, “Hey, pretty eyes. Stick with me, let me show you where that one is.”

So, you do.

Your light-filled eyes trace the sky’s nighttime freckles, searching until you find what you’re looking for.

“There,” Your finger raises, tracing the patterns in the air. “That’s Capricorn, can you see?”

Not really, the stars are just a meaningless smatter. If there’s some sort of pattern he’s supposed to find, he comes up with none. 

“Not in the slightest,” Keigo rolls his eyes. “Show me again?”

You don’t reply, but rather scoot a bit closer, mirror his hunch and pose with precision and tiny adjustments. 

He doesn’t dare to breathe as you carefully grab his arm, extending it. You lay your cheek over his bicep, watching from the closest view to his own that you could. 

“Do you see now?” 

The only starlight he sees is right in front of him, soft cheek pressed against atrophying muscles. Sharing your heat so graciously as you would so easily come to, you chatter about the stories that are written in the stars, by all cultures, for so long.

Keigo hears, but he’s far more focused on how he wishes you were even closer.

...

After that night, you always share the same couch. 

You face forward, right leg always extended and stiff-looking. Keigo doesn’t mind, hardly notices. He faces you, fragile back bandaged and kept away from the unforgiving grit of the uncomfortable couch. It looks a bit uncomfortable, the posing of it all, but with the words flowing easier, neither of you mind.

You keep showing him stars, the constellations you can remember and see in the night sky. 

Keigo makes fun and crafts his own, connecting new dots and winding stories about them.

“See those three there?” He guides your hand, close enough to share your breath. “That’s the comb of the chicken. Star comb, if you will.”

You snort, rolling your eyes and pulling your hand from his grip, “There’s no cock in the stars, pretty eyes. Chickens can’t fly anyways.”

You both freeze.

Keigo’s mouth goes dry—

Chicken can’t fly.

As much as you’re both learning to be human again, there isn’t talk of your injuries. Maybe, there’s mutual curiosity (you’ve been here two months. just for a broken arm, why?), but like fuck Keigo wants to broach the subject.

“S-sorry,” you stumble over your words, physically retreating. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

It is a fact, chickens can’t fly, but Keigo isn’t a chicken. He’s a debauched, defamed hero whose home is the same set of a milky white, hospital ward walls. Once, a real hero, before the war, before selling his morals just for a chance at rest, before blue flame— burning— 

“Pretty eyes,” Your voice trembles, shaking and lonesome. “Come back here, now. Come on.”

You’re holding his cheeks, unkempt nails pressing (blessedly) a bit too hard into his cheeks. The heat of you is so close, almost scalding him, but he wants more of it, more of the heat that doesn’t burn—

“You’re okay, pretty eyes, s-see?” You hold yourself together, jerking your head to the wide window and glittering stars. “We’re just stargazing.” 

Keigo’s has tears leaking down his face, but neither of you acknowledge them. You release him, quietly spinning another tale about a hero hung in the cosmos. He thanks you for it silently by tugging you into his side. 

(It was the first night you really touched him.)

(The light in your eyes was so close, he wanted it all for himself.)

...

They’re running out of healers to try.

From the weakest to the strongest quirk, no one could revive his dead wings. There was no root to push from the scar tissue, nor resolve left in Keigo to try and make new pins and feathers sprout.

His back isn’t fertile. It’s just as poisoned as the rest of him.

...

He wonders where you disappear to during the day. He takes his strolls then, too. Waves to nurses these days, not charming, just friendly, trying to make a little brightness. 

There’s one day where he asks one of the nurses he knows best for a pair of scissors.

She looks at him, worried, “Don’t tell me we need to put you on psych watch.”

“What? No,” Keigo shakes his head, shaggy hair quivering around the frame of his face. “I just need a bit of a haircut.” 

“... We can ask the Commission to bring someone in—”

“I can do it myself.”

She doesn’t argue with the firmness of his voice, rather, she hands him a pair of safety scissors with bright purple handles. They’re for a child, but Keigo’s fine with that. They’d do. 

When he was younger, and in a pinch (and so poor he tried to eat grass and lick scraps from metallic packaging of discarded junk food wrappers) he’d cut his hair with his own feathers.

Safety scissors would be even easier.

It did mean that he had to confront his own visage, which he had gotten too good at avoiding.

The bathroom in his room is small, it would’ve been claustrophobic if he was still carrying a twenty-five-foot wingspan. 

But, he isn’t. It was just him and the scars on his back that he definitely wasn’t ready to see. 

He’s caught glimpses of himself over the past weeks, but nothing substantial. No view that would’ve given himself time to scrutinize over his imperfection. 

The dull hospital mirror reveals too much about him. It feels too vulnerable, makes his chest tighten, as he stares himself in his ‘pretty eyes’.

Purple stamps below his eyes, probably not from sleeplessness itself, just the sheer exhaustion of living. The one under his left is an odd maroon color, mixing with the scar that is burned into that half of his face.

The skin was once soft, plump cheeks always tended too and well taken care of by expensive skincare products. Now, it’s charred and gaunt. Healing, but still obviously scarred heavy and deep.  The weak beard he’s been growing (accidently) is patchy around the thickened tissue. 

It bothers him— 

It doesn’t look like him in the mirror. 

It helps to take care of himself for the first time in a long while. 

He shaves with the cheap foam and single blade razor they’d given him in the toiletries pack the first days he was there, while he was still numbed out and half-dead. The metal glides over his skin, stripping away the numbness just a little. The stubble and cream slide down the drain and away.

His hair is different. The waves had for so long been pushed back and held that way with the winds of his flights. The longer, feathery patches now hang around his face, dangling down and mingling with the too-long sections that curl over his ears and down his neck.

Wetting his hair, he cuts away what he can. 

It’s blunt, messy, and not elegant. 

All the same, the trim feels good. 

Though, his mood goes sour when the screaming starts for the day.

The far wall of the bathroom was shared by him and his shrieking neighbor, and he took great care to never shower when they were singing their awful chorus. It grates on his ears; he should’ve been a bit empathetic to their suffering, but he didn’t care that much. It was so regular, that the screaming that might’ve once sent each one of his feathers (don’t think about, don’t fucking think about it) sharp as the razor in his hand, didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Just a poke at his temple, a jab and a drop of water that irks him more than anything else.

It is a... somewhat pleasant distraction. He can focus more on his fellow patient than his own haggard appearance, the scar, the lack of red at his back— 

It’s all okay, ‘okay’, until the patient starts babbling.

“M-make it stop!” 

Keigo stills.

A scream tears through the drywall. Even without his wings, it makes him thrum, far-too sensitive.

“Help!” The voice yelps. “HELP!” 

There’s a thud and thump from the other room.

“Please, please!”

Keigo’s heart stutters in his chest, and the razor falls from his hand, clattering into the sink.

“MAKE IT STOP!”

It’s you.

It’s your screaming and shrieking that’s burrowed in his ears. It’s your voice that’s trembling in desperation that has him running out of his room, nearly pulling out his IVs as the pole teeters and follows behind him. 

Why are you screaming?

Why have you always been screaming?

A nurse is trying to stop him, urging him to settle but he can’t. There's an urgency in his chest he hasn’t felt since back before and he has to heed it. He needs to.

He pulls his forearm from the nurse’s grasp, hissing in his own pain, muscles pulling and aching with disuse but he doesn’t care.

The nurses drag him back from your door, and they almost have him, almost have him on the ground.

And then he smells burning—

Cloth.

Flesh.

And something in him snaps.

He clocks the nearest nurse with a tight fist, ignoring his atrophied muscles and kicking with everything he could muster.

They release him, probably out of shock. (He’d been such a model patient, so complacent and quiet until then.) 

Then, he stumbles into your room, and sees you, and wants to die.

...

There’s plenty of times in his life where Keigo felt like an animal. When the Commission first got their hands on him, they took to studying and picking his quirk about to figure out the most efficient way to rebuild it to their needs and uses. Now then, he felt very much like an experiment, only half-human. He was too young to really ‘get’ it, but the feeling persisted.

Sometimes, he felt similarly when he played celebrity. The talk shows, the modeling and media felt hoops he had to jump through just to get a decent night’s sleep. It was an additional job aside from heroics, one he excelled at and entertained him. But that didn’t mean each flash of a camera didn’t suck him dry of a bit of his dignity. 

He was sure you had to be feeling similarly.

You’re writhing and arching in your bed, curls of smoke rising from your papery hospital gown. Every machine in your room is screaming with you, bloody and loud and angry—

And scared. Keigo recognized well, and it drove pins into his heart to realize it was you.

It’s even worse when he realizes some part of you is burning. 

At your bedside, he freezes.

Nylon straps wrap around your wrist, around your cast, and keep you held tight to the bed. You’re tied down, held to the plastic bed frame as you wretch and scream.

You don’t even notice him.

The smoke rises from your burning hospital gown. He rips it away, tears the burning section away with his shaking hand. It’s crass, and Keigo sees a bit too much.  The gauze wrapping your leg below is burning as well, in little veins of char that burns black and smoldering. 

Keigo tears it all away, he tears and tears—

And then he sees the wound.

He was trained, once, to see this type of horror and not bat an eye. That training was gone, and all that remained was his starshine with a writhing, molten wound.

Keigo is numb as the nurses drag him back to his room, trying to decide if he prefers the apathy and numbness to injury that his old heroism gave him, or the blinding pain of empathy when someone you... care about is hurt.

He can’t decide which he’d rather suffer with. 

...

You appear in the common room a few nights later.

Keigo still takes his walks in the late evening, even if you aren’t there. If anything, he needs them more. He’s restless, always listening for the screams or howls from the next room over. His annoyance towards them was gone, and all that remained was a concern that knotted in the pit of his stomach. 

There’s a sigh of relief on his lips when he finds you, nestled into a pile of blankets with your IV pole, watching the stars with sad eyes.

He joins you on your couch, cracking a decent joke that you don’t respond to.

Then, there’s silence.

It’s as loud as the stars are bright. The expanse of sound is filled by the hum of the cold air and distant beeping.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice shakes. “You shouldn’t have seen me like that. It’s not... Easy to look at. Or, I imagine it’s not.”

Keigo wants to rip the apology from your tongue and burn it.

“No, please, it’s alright,” He’s begging too much. “I get it.”

As much as he can, anyways.

You’re quiet again, biting your lip so hard it must be close to breaking skin.

“Can we... talk about things?” You ask, softer. “I can’t keep pretending.”

“...’Pretending’?” Keigo knows, but he selfishly wants to hear you say it.

“Well, you didn’t think I’ve been here for two months for my bum arm, right?” You laugh weakly. “And I’m well-aware that you don’t have wings.”

We just don’t talk about it. 

“It’s nicer to look at the stars and pretend everything’s fine,” Keigo lays the statement down and regrets it.

Your fist tightens, jaw clenching.

And there’s more silence.

It’s deafening to Keigo, he wants to speak, scream, but you’re quiet next to him. He can fill voids with his voice so, so easily, yet he turns in on himself.

“I know, it’s all hard,” Tears drip down from your words, though your cheeks remain dry. “I know, but there was a War two months ago, and we’re still holed up in a place like this, and we never talk about why.”

You turn to him, light dancing slowly in your eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no sound comes out.

“... I didn’t want to ask.” Keigo speaks, gaze shifting down to your leg. He questioned why a broken arm would keep you here, but you can’t just ask that. “It’s bad form to ask a stranger about their injuries unnecessarily when they’re traumatized.”

“But we’re not strangers, not anymore.”

Keigo can’t disagree. 

...

You had been in a conbini when Gigantomakia tore through your little suburb. It was a few miles away, but the ground shook as if the goliath was just outside the automatic doors.

Your demon was near, though.

It was a man from the PLF who tore into you so badly. Just some random, emboldened civilian who ascribed to Destro’s ideology hard enough to think about taking out his frustrations on ‘weaker-quirked’ individuals.

That meant the young couple getting slushies in the corner, the old man behind the cash register, and you.

(You’d told your roommate you’d be home quick to help her study—)

(Your roommate is dead, under several tons of rubble.)

“The old man died before the heroes even started trying to rescue anyone. The couple was begging each other to hold on, but only one of them lasted. He died within a few weeks of being taken here.”

There was just you.

You’d hardly been touched by the man, the fucking villain, who’d set his mark on you. But it was more than enough to leave a writhing scar.

Keigo asks to see it, and quietly, you oblige him.

You’re in a gown, you always have been. The hem of it is pulled up by your visibility shaking fingers, and slowly reveals the scar in the lowlight of the ever-present lamp. He’d seen it once, but that didn’t change how startling it was. 

It’s molten.

The skin is gnarled, twisting and scarred worse than anything Keigo’s ever seen. It was like the gore of a torn flesh was frozen over your right side, from your calf, to your thighs to your pretty hips—

“It goes higher, but that’s not exactly couth to show you,” you joke, but neither of you laugh. 

“... It’s not moving anymore?”

“Oh, yeah. It calms down, when it’s dark. Nighttime and all. It stops being so ornery.” 

Keigo has a laundry list of questions, but with the expression on your face that just bleeds exhaustion into the air, and the fresh burns from the restraints on your wrists, he keeps quiet. 

Maybe, three months ago, he’d jabber on about the injury, try to gode some information out on the villain, profile him, track him and beat the tar out of him for touching you—

But this is the present, and Keigo is a wingless soul. All he has is a prescription for painkillers on a rigid schedule, and the awareness that you both appreciate each other.

Keigo scoots to your uninjured side, lifting his arm up and around your shoulder. It hurts, it fucking hurts, but he doesn’t mind.

You tense for a moment, turning to him with wide eyes, scared like he’s never seen.

Then, you melt into him.

...

Keigo’s busy with healers the week, though none speak his language, literally. They’re international, foreign aid that’s been flown in to try to pick up the disaster of a society that’s been left in the wake of the War and the dissolution of Tartarus.

None of them make progress. 

As much as it burns (haha) him to his core, he’s accepting the reality, slowly but surely. 

...

Endeavor visits him.

It’s the morning after a particularly sweet night with you. You still sit together in the starlight, though you’ve run out of constellations to show him. It’s less quiet than it used to be, just little banter that flows between the two of you. It feels more genuine than his old bluntness, welcome after so much odd tension when you first started enjoying the heat of each other’s presence and the far-off stars.

You’d taken to spending time together during the day as well... As much as you could. Strapping you to your bed was for your own safety. Your broken arm had snapped the first few days at the hospital because of the severity of your spasms and flares. The nurses keep you wrapped up, but Keigo drags a chair close to your bed and talks to you as much as he can.

It helps you relax.

Though the days fill with tension as you try to negate the inevitability of your molten scar coming to life, nights remain calm.

And so, so sweet.

You’ve taken to tucking into his side, telling him little treasured facts about the cosmos. It’s easier to guide his eyes like that, as your cheek rests over his collarbone. 

It lingers with him, the feeling of your casual touch, so tentatively offered and so graciously received.

He traces his own constellations over your gown, mindful of the flesh beneath that heats beneath his palm when he gets too close.

After one of those wonderful, early nights, Enji Todoroki enters his room with all of the gusto one would expect. Which is not very much, but the sheer presence of him is enough to make Keigo quake.

 Just like the little boy from Kyushu, Keigo regards him with stars in his eyes. 

The hero, not a speck of flame on him (thank god) pulls up a chair near his bed. Keigo sits cross-legged and cocks his head to the side.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods, number one?” Keigo smiles.

“Number fifteen.”

“... What?”

“Since my injuries, I’m mostly on bedrest,” Enji replied, folding his hands on his chin. “I’m number fifteen now, and that number will more than likely just drop. I’m not much of a hero with only one lung. I’m planning to officially retire at the end of the month.”

Keigo’s chest goes tight and it feels like he’s joking. He tosses on a tight smile. 

“This is hardly time for a pillar—“

“I’m no pillar. I never was,” Enji sighs, running a hand over his scarred cheek. “The kids can handle this.”

Keigo breaks so easily these days.

“That’s not fair—” He had been tossed into this all too early and god it fucked him up— 

“Hawks,” Enji sighed. “There’s hardly anyone left to fight. They’re either dead, missing part of themselves, or gone.”

“So, you’re giving up?”

“If I didn’t, I’d die.”

Coward.

No, just honest and smart. 

“Since when are you this selfish?” Keigo’s own words surprise him, but he doesn’t back down. “And this wordy, number one? You’ve changed.”

He spits the last phrase like an insult. He hates himself for it and would hate himself even more for it later. 

Enji’s face remains solid and unwavering. The twitch in his brow is the only indication that Keigo’s words were even heard. 

“Since we lost, Keigo. Things have changed.”

Keigo knew, of course, but it didn’t stop the anger from rolling his belly.

“Oh, like I don’t fucking know,” If Keigo still had his wings, they would’ve been extended and fluffed, angry as the pinched skin of his forehead. 

This was his hero, he couldn’t be giving up too— 

“Rest, Hawks,” Enji stand up, “You deserve it.”

Seems Endeavor really died. Enji’s face is worn, his expression neutral and jaw slack. He looks hollowed out and empty, not an ounce or morsel of fight left in him, even for a flightless bird in need of some encouragement. 

There’s more to be said, but Keigo’s too angry to listen and Enji doesn’t have the energy to try. 

Whatever news the old hero had come to bring was left undelivered. 

...

You settle together the next few nights, both so damn tired, even though you’ve done nothing other than lay around a hospital for so-many weeks. 

The air always vibrates between the two of you, that comfortable warmth shared between mingling breath and senses. Light dances in your eyes, twisting and bouncing like something otherworldly.

(Maybe it is.)

Your fingers lace together, held in Keigo’s lap. You trace the others hand in relaxing little lines and shapes, trying to soothe each other’s wounds, always.

“One of the doctors said the scar might start shrinking,” You break the tender silence, nosing into his jaw in the same way an affectionate cat would. “They’re not entirely sure, but it’s been stable for a few days.”

Keigo’s feathery (don’t think about it) eyebrows shot up, “That’s amazing, and there’s only a few spasms this week, too.”

(He kept good tabs on you, he had to.)

You hummed in agreement, a sad smile playing on your lips as it so often did.

With a quick blink, the light bouncing in your eyes faded, and the world felt a bit colder.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I get out of here,” You pressed closer to him. “There’s shelters, and some cities are taking refugees, but I don’t—”

Your jaw clicks shut, brow furrowed and mood soured.

(Keigo, mind you, is still focusing on the lack of light in your eyes and the chill of the air in the room.) 

Something stirs, deep in his gut, but he doesn’t say anything. How Keigo used to have such a mouth, he didn’t know. These days, all he can is act, like somehow the loss of his wings came with the loss of his tongue.

Tugging you by the waist, mindful of the tender scar, he pulls you close, internally resolving.

...

She, the main Suit, visits him.

(It’s his last visitor at the hospital.)

There are no trumpeters, guards, or the like. It’s just the haggard president, matching Keigo with his dark circles and creased with new wrinkles and far-more grey sections in her slicked back hair.

The air stands still as she pulls up a chair, burying her head in her hands.

She, the Main Suit, has never been one to inquire as to how he is. Many of the others at the Commission were sweet, kind to him in youth, but she was all business. 

Some things never change.

She breaks the silence of the room, “... do you want to be done, Hawks?”

The cords in his chest tighten, gaze going sharper.

He doesn’t answer.

They meet each other’s gazes; twenty years of fucked-up emotion being shared between the pair of them.

“We’ve done everything. Every healer, every quirk, every treatment, conventional or otherwise,” she’s too soft. “There’s nothing left to try.”

He knew that, he had to know that, right?

His throat feels sticky as he swallows down bile, the scars on his back burning anew. It’s somatic, it has to be, but his flesh crawls and writhes just like yours. His starshine. He hates the way his mind is racing, just as fast as it always has, but his body lacks the ability to keep up.

He grounds himself in the thought of you, his starshine. Your body. Your heat. 

His narrow pupils refocus on the light tremble in her shoulders. 

“I’m being honest, so I’ll ask again,” She meets his gaze, grey eyes as soulless and full as ever. “Do you want to be done?”

“Well, obviously I can't fight—” 

“I mean it. All of it, Hawks. Maybe a few media appearances, but all this... shit. You’ve done enough.”

You’ve done enough. 

The words bounce around in his skull.

“Do you want to be done?”

Done with being a hero.

That’s all he’d ever been, right? That is him, he is Hawks, for fuck’s sake, no one other than Dabi (may he rot and die and immolate in hell) even called him his actual name in years.

Keigo is Hawks.

His mouth is dry, and he tries to ignore the tears pricking his eyes. He’s not sure why he’s beginning to cry, and definitely not sure why tension is draining from his shoulders as he sighs out an answer.

“I’ll be done.”

You’ve done enough.

...

Hospital beds are a hot commodity, and now that Keigo had thrown in the towel (along with everyone else) to stop trying with his wings, he was to be discharged within a few days.

(“Just a few more days to adjust your body to your new medications—”)

He’d stopped listening after that.

...

Your last night together is so bittersweet, you taste it on each other’s tongues.

You have an episode early in the day. Your screaming wakes the floor, the burning smell of flesh cementing that it was you.

Keigo’s only half-lucid when he shoves into your room, holding your hands while nurses desperately try to administer pain medication.

It’s too much for you, the crawling edges of the scar once again consuming you in the molten, glowing amber veins of heat that tore through you so terribly.

You sleep the day away. Keigo stays with you for much of it, stroking the bones in the back of your hands. 

...

He fucks you for the first time, that night. 

His own IVs have been removed, he’s to be discharged first thing in the morning—

And he wants one more night of stargazing, please, please—

(Why’s he clutching at you so dearly?) 

But you’re not in the common room. 

Rather, you’re under a few thin blankets, eyes tired and lightless. Your arm is out of its cast, laying over the bed clothes. It scares him shitless at first as he tentatively enters. It’s you though, and the moment you see him, it’s like a flame, a good one, heats the room full and wide. A few specks of light dance in between your irises as your skin crinkles in a gentle smile.

You both know he’s leaving tomorrow.

The knowledge settles in the room like a weight that neither of you can move. So, Keigo takes to it and does what he can.

As opposed to his normal perch next to his bed, he sits beside you, removing the restraints on your wrists and helping you to sit up.

Keigo fishes around in his pocket, pulling out a folded square of paper and placing it at your bedside. It’s his phone number, an odd detail. Relationships usually shared far-earlier.

But there is nothing linear or normal about the two of you, or the situation you both sit and stewed in.

You both are making peace with it at your own pace.

The bed creaks as you move to sit beside him, legs dangling from the bed. There’s gooseflesh beneath your gown, the boring pattern obscured by the darkness of the room, but the molten lines of the scar ever-visible.

“I’m glad you’re getting out of here.”

But I wish that you weren’t leaving.

His hand finds your waist, careful like he always is, but so giving in the same breath. 

“I am too. It’ll be nice to be.”

But I’m going to miss you.

It’s inherent, and has been forever. Since the moment you both stargazed in the common room and watched the worlds high above twist and shine without regard to your own hells, you’ve been ensnared in the other and neither of you have a want or need to let go.

Even with the inevitably of progress.

Keigo drowns in these thoughts, and has been since Endeavor visited and he was reminded of the harsh reality just outside of their tree-ringed prison. The reality he has to return to—

He presses his lips to yours, more desperate and needy than he had before.

Keigo had taken his share of you before, little pecks and the rub of the bridge of his nose over your jaw and cheeks. He had been a bit greedier with his hands, uncaring of the eyes of the night nurses when he’d touched you in the common room.

But he’s insatiable that last night.

The sheets of the plastic bed are too scratchy, they’re too harsh for you, and it burns Keigo to his core as he lowers you down. He cradles what he can, as your fingers latch onto his clothes (real clothes) and tug him as close as you can get.

The machines in your room cry, but they’re forgotten. 

You nip at his bottom lip, dragging yours across his clean-shaven jaw before laying into his neck with kiss after kiss. His muscles shake, holding him over you, both of you atrophied but uncaring.

You suck a deep, throbbing bruise on the fragile skin of his neck. It’s something dark that won’t fade for a week. The thought stirs something in his chest, a white-hot feeling that wants to crack his ribs and consume him. He doesn’t give in, he can’t—

“Stay with me, pretty eyes,” you whisper, so sweet and gentle as you push floppy strands of hair from his face. “Stay here, just for a little while longer.”

The reminder jolts him back, back to you, and the way your body (so tired, but unwavering) jumps and rolls under his touch. He’s a glutton for attention, always has been, but your particular brand and sounds keep pulse hot and hard. 

Shaky fingers pull his shirt over his head, sweaty palms push the gown over your hips. By the starlight, you’re both seeing too much of each other, but this is a goodbye, there’s no time to dwell on the discomfort.

Keigo tries to be careful as he adjusts your legs, tries to be mindful of the raw skin and flesh that makes you whine and half-writhe. You clutch at him, still trying to pull him closer despite the proximity and heat, like you need him as opposed to just wanting him. 

There’s no fanfare in it, just more rushed kisses and the swirling of fingertips over covered clit. You catch each other’s gasps in the mingling of breaths you share. It’s choking, suffocating, yet entirely not enough. You beg, quietly, for more. Your fingers latch onto his wrist and urge him to help pull your panties off and away.

More, more, more. 

By the time he slides into you, you're still tense, but so is he, and in a pile of tension and fear and wishful-thinking, you both come undone, and undone, and undone— 

...

Keigo leaves the next morning. 

The press is there, flash bulbs blinding him after so long with just fluorescents and starlight. He manages an easy wave or two, no autographs or gleaming smiles, just business and numbness that he needed to hold onto, so he didn’t fucking break.

He slips into the Commission’s car and leaves behind the hospital, you, and its wall of man-laid greenery and prays to forget it all quickly. He has enough to mourn. 

...

Keigo wants to off himself when he arrives back at his penthouse. 

How can he not?

His ‘home’ (if he couldn’t even call it that) is a dusty, time capsule of everything before. Before he got fucked up with the League, before the PLF, before the war, before Jin—

Every untouched bit of his life from when it was a few, precious fractions better stands unturned. A discarded jacket, wing slits visible and frayed. Scattered dead feathers that make his skin crawl. Memorabilia too, old merchandise that he never cared much about, but he definitely didn’t need to be seeing it now that ‘Hawks’ had burned up and died. 

All disgusting reminders. 

Something burning fills the base of his skull when his gaze fixates on one of the old plumes. He reaches out to touch the spine of it, instinctually expecting a little jolt of feeling from it, like he always had. 

But there’s nothing. It’s dead, decaying, and so is he. 

The reality of it breaks him, quick, hard and hot. He burns alive a second time. 

He clears the liquor cabinet while blaring music from his over-priced stereo system loud enough to make his ears ache and throb. The music isn’t drowning anything out, but it’s better to pretend.

He finds a bottle of old pills and downs them with a few swigs of expensive whiskey and lets go.

...

When he comes to, he’s staring into a smashed mirror, with his own nails crusted in blood from thin welts in the skin of the scar on his face.

Much to his chagrin, he hasn’t forgotten anything. The memories of blue flames, red feathers, and the smell of your skin mixed with isopropyl alcohol feel brighter than ever. He grounds on them as he sobers up, latching onto the pain of his scar tissue and the solace you gave. 

And won’t ever give him again.

Something in him wilts as he defeatedly goes to his phone, arranging any number of things to get him the fuck out.

...

The penthouse is sold, his more important belongings gathered in bland boxes. 

And he leaves. There’s no sentiment holding him there, not anymore.  

Fukuoka is gone and some distant memory as he drives (yes, he forgot that he had that skill) him and his things to his new home.

His penthouse had been immaculate. Crisp interior design, new shapes and colors that were on trend. He was hardly home to appreciate the modern beauty of it, but he’d received enough compliments from random hookups to know that it landed aesthetically.

But honestly?

Who the fuck cared?

His penthouse had been sold to the highest bidder and far behind as he arrives at his new, high home in the sleekness of his far-too fancy, disused car.

...

...

He gets a call from an unknown number, another one, on some snowy day, deep in winter. 

Keigo debates answering it. He almost lets it slip to voicemail. The only calls worth answering are the handful from the Commission that he has to heed, or the odd one from Rumi, Fuyumi, and on occasion, Endeavor.

Not random numbers, he has no patience for it. 

Yet, he answers it lazily.

“Washed up hero, how can I help you?”

“P-Pretty eyes?”

His heart stutters in his chest, he swears— 

“Starshine?” He sounds breathless, the air leached from his chest as he white-knuckles his thighs.

He’d given up on you contacting him, yet there you were, or at least your voice, mechanical and high bouncing around preciously in the walls of the cabin

There’s a moment of silence, nearly, just your light breathing that receiver picks up.

Your voice trembles when you break it, “Y-yeah, it’s me, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call—”

You don’t need to be sorry; he would wait for you forever, and then some. 

“I d-don’t actually have a phone? Mine got trashed, uh, back then. I’m on the hospital’s line.”

Keigo hadn’t really considered that, he’s slipped the paper with his number on your bedside without a thought. 

How much had you lost?

“No worries, chickadee,” Keigo is sure his smile is audible. “Why call now? Miss me too much?”

He had no idea.

You laugh, though it soured as you spoke, “I get discharged tomorrow.”

Keigo’s heart seizes again and he’s sure he’s going to go into cardiac arrest.

“The guy who gave me the scar and all? He fucked up a few other people, word eventually got here. Once the scar stops... glowing, it rests. If you make it until then, you’re good.”

And alive.

“The whole injury is stable, has been for a week now,” Surprisingly, there’s no relief in your voice. “They need my bed, so they’re releasing me.”

No, no, no.

Where will you go?

Keigo doesn’t say it, but the question hangs in the air and is quickly answered.

“They got me a spot in one of the shelters close by... It’s only a couple hours by train!” You try to sound happy, but it’s so hollow and unnatural; it makes Keigo physically sit up.

No, no, no.

That won’t do.

“... What won’t do?” 

Keigo hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud.

Something is buried in his chest, something warm and molten, like the old veins of your scar, just kinder and better. It’s full of urges, so seldom used, selectively as needed throughout his career as a hero.

The need to keep something precious safe. 

The thing hasn’t thrashed in months.

Yet now? It’s practically screaming.

“Pretty eyes?” You sound scared through the phone. “A-Are you alright? I can call back—”

“No, don’t, do not.” Keigo lets the flame fill his chest, welcoming it. “You’re not going to that shelter.”

He has something to protect.

“I don’t have another choice—”

Someone.

“You do.” Keigo keeps his voice even, the muscles in his back writhing. If he still had his wings, they’d be puffed out and large. Impassioned with feeling he finally let breath between his ribs. “I’ll come get you, tomorrow.”

“... P-Pardon?”

He doesn’t hesitate, and for a moment, he starts to feel like his old self. 

“Come home with me, starshine.”

++++++

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!! 💗

look out for parts 2 and 3!!!💞

ko-fi

[shoichee]

okok hc or fic: reader was teiko’s “head” manager(?) and her talent was being a medic (if someone gets injured they’re back on the court in under a minute type thing) and training plans. suddenly momoi’s talent blooms, she starts working w/ everyone in the team (+ reader’s crush akashi) and people think she’s a better manager than reader. because of this, she overworks + collapses in front of her best friends kuroko + kise (don’t let akashi know yet i have plans for that 👀)

HELLO? YES OFFICER? I JUST FOUND A BANGER REQUEST RIGHT HERE? YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG AND SEXY IVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS🏃🏻‍♀️💨 part 2 here and part 3 here AND update: part 4 here

Akashi x Reader

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

you had a knack of being a natural chiropractor in loosening up tense muscles instantly (for more fluid play) or easily putting in back dislocated joints

basically you have crackhands

in your free time as a hobby and a job as the “head manager” (that Akashi announced to the team himself), you’d often bury yourself in anatomy studies and gym plans on the internet and databases to review over Akashi’s team training routines to see if they were effective and safe; oftentimes, you’d return back with improved plans, and as time went on, Akashi entrusted you with creating the plans yourself completely

you took on the job so eagerly to impress the Teiko captain, if you were being honest to yourself

your enthusiasm even inspires Momoi, Teiko’s other manager, to work harder

no one in Teiko knows physiology better than you, and as expected, it was also your best subject along with health

Kise often looks at you in horror and respect at how you don’t cringe/flinch at the loud cracks resonating across the room or court when players come to you for instant relief (the origin story of how he came to call you (y/n)-cchi was the very fact that you manage to put back his dislocated shoulder in 3 seconds flat one game)

when Kuroko first joined the 1st-string, he was a walking magnet for injuries, and you ended up being there for him every single time… nosebleeds? check. sprained ankle? check. nausea from over exhaustion? check.

both you and Kuroko relish in the fact that everyone in the team can never understand how the both of you do some incredible things with your hands

both of you being quite dexterous, you both often teach each other your specialties for fun; it’s almost shocking to see Kuroko effortlessly loosening up a stress knot and you pulling off a well-done palm pass

you admit, you do juggle a lot of responsibilities… from being a makeshift nurse, to a chiropractor, to a budget gym coach, and even to being moral support

Momoi often reminds you to take breaks being the caring person that she is

you often showed her the ropes and tricks of being a manager, on top of your duties, and you find it really endearing that she’s so earnest in learning from you

even if you enjoyed doing what you do, part of the massive workload is to try to get into Akashi’s good graces

talking to him about basketball duties is easier to achieve than talking to him outside of the extracurricular

you might be a tad bit insecure about it; after all, what middle schooler is already so accomplished in academics, sports, and everything you could think of? wasn’t he also studying to take over his father’s company??

to you, who only starred as Teiko’s humble manager, it felt hard trying to establish common ground for conversation outside of basketball

so you stuck to working hard at your position, hoping that your work ethic would get his attention one day; you were a firm believer of actions over words, so you hoped your actions would come off as genuine

picture you and Momoi running across campus with stacks of papers for the team… it makes most of the teammates’ hearts melt at the sight

your work certainly got you praises from other teammates, but out of all players, Kise was the one who figured out your motive

you felt absolutely morbid; to think that Kise, of all people, would figure you out like the back of his hand

Kise being sweet as he is, offers to help you get with the captain but you merely prompted to threaten to break his arm if he spilled your crush to anyone else

“(y/n)-cchi… I’ve been thinking.”

“Yes, Kise?”

“It’s really cool that you’re working so tirelessly for the team, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason why you work so hard.”

“O-Of course I do! I want to see you guys all succeed!”

“Then I’m curious as to why you always look at Akashicchi—o-ow, ow, ow!! (y/n)-cchi, I’m sorry! So can you please let go of my—ow!”

“H-How did you know?!”

“I-It was as obvious as day, (y/n)-cchi! I’m pretty sure even Kurokocchi found out about this before I did!”

“N-No way!!”

“Tell you what, I’m super duper knowledgeable in this stuff! You can count on me for this sort of advice—OW!”

spoiler alert: Kise was right in that Kuroko definitely noticed your attraction to Akashi before anyone else… he just never brought it up to you

one day, Kuroko comes up to you to whisper:

“(y/n)-san, have you realized that Akashi-kun has been observing you recently during practice?”

“W-Wait! Is he looking over here right now?”

“Not that I think. He’s occupied with the coach right now.”

“D-Do you think this is a good sign?”

Kuroko gives you a small smile before he replies, “I would like to think so. Keep working hard, (y/n)-san.”

and you do, you’re constantly on top of your game for the next season until Momoi suddenly gets more recognition for her “precognitive defense” skills

her newfound talent was extraordinary and never-before-seen, and her ability became more critical to Teiko’s victories than your own skills

you were happy and proud for her, because after all, her achievements were extremely deserving to be praised

it’s only when some 1st-string players started making offhand comments about how you weren’t really needed in the 1st-string and was more suited to the lower strings that placed seeds of doubt into you

these people would often compare you to Momoi in how she improved much more despite you being in the team for longer

there’s also talk about how your skills are more useful for 2nd-string and 3rd-string players because Momoi’s ability is already sufficient enough for Teiko’s starters

after all, how would a player even be injured if they can predict their opponents’ moves to avoid such incidents?

there’s also the fact that Akashi has been calling Momoi more frequently to research on upcoming teams for analytical data because her talent has become very useful to ensuring victory

the same peers and adults who gave you praise were the same people who began to ignore you or dismiss you; that being said, the collective change in attitude is definitely subtle enough that it would fly under most people’s radars

Kuroko was the first to notice and defend you against a small group of players who were bold enough to badmouth you in the gym

Kise would find out a little later about the somewhat unpleasant gossip about you and would pull the “no you” reverse card, returning back with MEANER underhanded comments that would send these shit talkers CRYING HOME (manga Kise strikes here unexpectedly eh?)

Murasakibara is someone who would be slightly uncomfortable with the gossip about you, especially since you’ve always been so helpful and kind to the team and himself; he’d either leave the room himself or easily scare them away with his looming height and presence without saying a single word when he enters the room “minding his own business”

Midorima is a bystander judging from how he’s reacted to the Teiko dynamic changes in the actual show // he, of course, wouldn’t like the nasty talk about you but would actually mind his own business, choosing to focus on himself and what he has to do to contribute to his team; he assumes that you would work hard the same way he is and let your contributions do the talking

now Akashi surprisingly wouldn’t hear much of the gossip, since his presence alone SHUTS them up and commit to their practices like normal; after all, it’s very clear that Akashi doesn’t tolerate this type of behavior in the team (example: Haizaki), and it’s more apparent that he wouldn’t hesitate to drop kick them out especially since he has a soft spot for you (which Kise never fails to bring this up to you, but you think he’s reaching too much into it) // TLDR; the teammates mostly have the common sense to not utter anything bad about you… maybe one kid would slip out and get punished for “bad sportsmanship,” but Akashi merely assumes that it’s just one bad apple and not necessarily… the many others as well

Aomine???? bro he ain’t even at practice wdym (HELPPP LMAOO) // jokes aside, if he catches wind of players shit-talking outside of the gym… say at the convenience store or when he’s walking home or something, well… they wouldn’t have a good time…

Momoi simply chastises the gossipers when they try to talk shit on you to make Momoi herself look good, and it leaves? such? a? horrible? taste? like, she wants to believe that they’re just really poor jokes and not what they really believe in, and the teammates merely reassure her that they’re just bad jokes and that they “wouldn’t do it again;” poor Momoi wholeheartedly believes them

the weird talks about Momoi being “the better manager” just signalled to you that you haven’t contributed enough to the team yet, and it motivated you to work even harder

oddly, you weren’t jealous of the fact that Momoi was receiving more positive attention than you

you were more afraid of the fact that you were going to get left behind, and this fear only tightened its hold on you when more teammates (who used to talk to you a lot) have changed their tunes when they speak with you now, compared to them talking to Momoi

and you felt that the Generation of Miracles would do the same too… including Akashi

it wasn’t an irrational fear for you because he’s already been calling Momoi a lot more frequently for help than you recently

so you even offered to mop the gym floors after practice, offered to stay later than usual to be the one to lock up the gym for anyone (cough, Kuroko) who wanted to practice whenever they wanted

at one point, you even tried to do what Momoi does: researching on upcoming teams and making your own predictions (that didn’t really work, and that cost you a few nights’ worth of sleep every single time)

not to mention that you still had regular school like any other student? you were the epitome of a mess

Kuroko was with you in the empty gym, you putting away the extra basketballs in the storage closet while he practiced his dribbling, until he heard a crash in there and a few basketballs rolled out the door

you collapsed right when you rolled in the basketball cart

POOR KUROKO HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO // he just tries to give you a piggyback ride as he abandons his plans of practice and tries to jog to the nearest local clinic

that’s where he bumped into Kise, who was heading home after an evening shoot when he saw the two of you

chaos ensue as Kise freaks out and Kuroko had to calm him down himself after answering the never-ending questions

at least the doctor there gave relieving news that you only collapsed from over-exhaustion and that the bruises from the fall were very faint

Kise makes a joke to Kuroko about, “What’s with you and (y/n)-cchi falling to the floor and fainting? You guys can’t be that alike.”

when you shortly regain consciousness, you were met with a… very stern Kuroko and Kise, who were both ready to hear your explanation and to scold you to oblivion

to your surprise, they were understanding; Kuroko understands the feeling of not being enough and working hard to meet other people’s expectations, and Kise understands the struggle of juggling multiple things in his schedule (come on, student, athlete, and model?)

they still scolded your ears off:

“(y/n)-san, you idiot. Why didn’t you ask anyone to help out?”

“That’s…”

“(y/n)-cchi, do you think we’re undependable?!”

“Er, no, that’s…”

you were still dizzy from the fall and the lack of proper sleep (and maybe nutrition if we’re being honest), and you were just a ball of stress

you kind of begged your best friends not to tell a SOUL to anyone about this incident, especially to Akashi… you didn’t want to look even more incapable in his eyes than you already were

they do agree on one condition: for you to take AT LEAST a day or two off school to completely recover and rest up (you reluctantly agree; besides how were you going to explain the bruises that can’t be covered to your peers?)

HELP WHY ARE KISE AND KUROKO THE BEST LIARS TOGETHER ON CAMPUS LITERALLY NO ONE SUSPECTS A THING… except Akashi, the ever sharp captain, felt something was amiss

especially since some Teiko players emanated a feeling of relief at the news of you not being here that day, or the next

Akashi would play detective sleuth and find out what’s really going on sooner or later

End Note: gonna cut this off here b/c I KNOW this anon got a juicy part two i FEEL IT

[wizkiddx]

heyheyhey idk if u do req but love your dad tom stuff! PLZ PLZ do tom helping his kids with homework but cant do it and reader has to help and its all fluffy 😩💕

ye im down to do req and this had me going completely ott cos its v cute (and a lot less angsty than what ive written recently aha) so apologies for my ramblings:

Summary: tom has the kids for a day and maths homework throws a spanner in the works - tomhollandxreader

implied smut + v slight reference to porn but basically just fluff I promise xox

\\\\\\\\\\\\///////////

Tom had dealt with a lot of whining today. Nova and Leo were the absolute joys of his life, there was no doubt about it. Of course, he also loved you a hell of a lot too - sometimes to his detriment though, hence the position he was in now. 

You’d had a busy week at work and he had been away for the first half of it - leaving you as an almost single mother to a 5 and a 7 year old. So completely fairly, you’d asked if he wouldn’t mind watching the kids for a the day on Sunday, allowing you to go to a friends baby shower. There was no answer but to agree, Tom loved quality time with the kids and he wanted you to kick back and relax with you friends too. 

However the afternoon had not been nearly as idealistic as it were supposed to be in his head. You had left him only one real job (apart from the unavoidable essentials of keeping the kids alive with food and water, something you’d hope he need not be reminded about now). Really it shouldn’t of been that hard, it was just each kid had two pieces of homework. After convincing and cajoling the kids into sitting at the table which he’d already set up with Nova’s ‘Liverpool FC’ and Leo’s ‘captain marvels’ pencil case, the English was easy. 

In fact 5 year old Leo took great joy out of writing a poem with his Dad, which basically involved trying to rhyme any word with another - especially when he tried to convince Tom that all his completely fictitious words were real and worked together. A personal favourite had been ‘snakes’ and ‘palakes’ which Leo was convinced meant pancakes - arguing so vehemently Tom almost started to doubt himself on basic English. 

Thankfully though his eldest and most sensibly child eventually took him out his misery. If anyone had any control over the Holland boys, Leo and Tom - it was the Holland girls. You and Nova had both boys completely under you spell, often taking advantage of the fact too. It was only when Nova got bored of hearing Tom and Leo mock arguing, interspersed with the little boys giggles that Tom tried his absolute hardest to keep a straight face at, that she swooped in.

“Stop being silly Leo, mummy told you he’s not good at school!” She looked oh so innocent, eyes immediately flicking down to continue the little short story she was happily going on with. In response  Tom scowled, knowing your highly curious and intelligent daughter had asked you (for one reason or another) why he was not so academic. Yet instead of Leo bursting out laughing, instead he just nodded and accepted it too - making Tom scowl even more. Not even Leo thought it was a joke. 

So apart from his children apparently taking pity on his simple mind, it was all going smoothly. Perhaps, due to the thankful fact your children had inherited their brains from their mother - something Tom was forever thankful for, until he was shamed for his substandard intellect in the family. Then again though, he was Spiderman. So take that. 

Until Nova brought out her maths sheet. Then the afternoon quickly descended into chaos. It was fractions, something she hadn’t quite grasped from school yet - a concept that still hurt her head somewhat. Normally though it’d be fine, she’d bring the sheet to you and the two of you used ‘ girl power’ to figure it out… you prior experience as a tutor while in uni helping you know how to break through to her. 

Unfortunately Tom didn’t share this same experience. Nor did Tom share a maths qualification… something that had evaded him completely during his schooling career. Of course, it had never been a particular issue, acting didn’t require the use of maths and algebra and Tom was in a very lucky position of being able to pay someone to manage his finances from a very young age. So no, dividing 2/3 and 3/7 didn’t come the most naturally to him. Or at all to be quite honest. 

“I CANT DO IT AND GRACE IN MY CLASS COULD!” For context, Grace was one of her school friends, who forever liked to compare herself to the young Holland - especially because she was normally ahead. Nova had gone from quiet frustration, staring at the questions with her tongue sticking out slightly, to one of pure rage - yelling at her dad with tears in her eyes. Nova was normally incredibly intuitive, she always found it difficult when she couldn’t do something. Now, with a ‘teacher’ who was more useless than her - the frustrations inevitably bubbled over. 

“Hey, we can work it out, just calm-“

“YOU CANT DO IT EITHER YOUR STUPID “ She was just young and frustrated, Tom tried not to take it personally but … it wasn’t always easy. Chiefly because this was the height of offensive statement Nova knew - this was her version of adult explicit language. 

“Nova you can’t be rude.” He used his stern voice, something Tom very rarely used with his little girl. Though he never wanted to upset her, neither did he want her to think it was ever okay to be so rude to anyone like that- no matter how crappy at maths they were. It hurt him to do so but it was necessary - life lessons about the importance of being kind needed to be learnt. And it worked… if what Tom was aiming for was his beautiful baby girl’s eyes to brim with sparkling tears, her bottom lip quivering slightly. 

Instantly Tom’s eyebrows drooped, trying to fight his natural reaction to scoop her onto his knee and reassure her everything was okay. But as you had lectured him many a time before, he had to put his foot down once in a while. So instead, the father and daughter were locked in a silence and intense eye contact, until Nova hesitantly began to speak. 

“I’m sorry Daddy.” During which, Nova shoved her chair back, making it screech against the tiled floors uglily before running off up the stairs. Tom knew she was crying a lot. Knew this was going to take a bit of fixing. 

With a sigh of his daughters name, Tom popped his head into the living to check on Leo who had already finished all his stuff. Seeing him completely zombified in front of ‘paw patrol’ on TV, Tom trudged up the stairs. He knew where she was, when Nova was upset she always hid in the corner of her wardrobe and cried in the darkness. So after steadying himself with a little internal monologue of how to approach the situation Tom walked in and sat down beside the wardrobe - knocking on the door slightly. 

“Nova… can we talk please?” All he heard was sniffing echoing from the wooden chamber until she tried to shout through the door.

“Go-go… go away daddy.” It broke his heart, the way her voice wavered, making Tom pout - gently letting his head fall against the wardrobe doors. 

“I don’t want you to be upset beautiful…. And you did apologise which I appreciate. You know why Daddy got angry right?” Her sniffles heightened before she muttered a quiet ‘yes’. “And you are sorry? Because that might’ve made me really sad too.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Then that’s good and we don’t need to cry. You want a cuddle little one?” Before Tom could even properly get up the door was being pushed open by her little hands, revealing a tear stained face and big glassy eyes looking up at her Dad. Swiftly Tom scooped her up and out of the cupboard, whispering to her while she buried her face in his chest. 

“Oh come here my little bean.”

//////////////////////

When you came home late that evening, only mildly exhausted from spending the whole day gossiping with your girls, it was weirdly quiet. All the lights were out in the front room, which made you close the door gently, thinking Tom had managed to exhaust the kids - and himself in the process. With a relieved sigh at the peace you pattered into the kitchen to get yourself a drink (it had been a little concern that Tom would’ve worked the kids into a hyperactive and delerious state that kept them up long past bedtime - which ultimately you’d have to deal with). The house was remarkably silent and though it was clear from the littered toys everywhere that it had indeed been Tom alone in charge, everything seemed pretty okay. 

It was only as you were about to head upstairs to join your hubby in bed that you realised the study light was still on, streaming through the small crack in the doorframe. Assuming Tom had just neglected to turn it off, in otherwords Tom being Tom, you nudged it open with your hand. Surprisingly though, there was your husband, hunched over the desk, looking almost angrily focused - between the computer screen and a piece of paper below him. Normally you would’ve just assumed it was another script sent over or an edit Harry had sent of another screenplay they were writing together. 

But no, the blatant red flag was the screen that you could see. A screen on YouTube, of a man pointing at a whiteboard of fractions. 

So with a soft wrist you wrapped your knuckled on the side of the door, even if you had technically already entered the room. The reaction had you stifling a laugh, it was as if you’d caught him watching something *less PG* the way he jumped out his seat, closing the browser immediately. 

“Love!! I -er … didn’t know you’d got back?”

“I just did.” You smiled gently, while walking into stand behind his chair, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Soooo…. what’ca doingggg” The glee in your voice was evident, making Tom groan and shut his eyes. 

“I hate you, you know that right?” 

“No you don’t… but you were watching a primary school video on fractions, if I’m not so mistaken?” He sighed deeply, making a point of turning the paper with his scribbles over to obscure it. 

“Nova’s homework.. she couldn’t do it and neither could I, so then she basically screamed at me for being thick and udseless and then had a breakdown.” 

Now you felt guilty. This was a bit of a sore spot with Tom, he always for some reason felt inferior because of his academic ability. Which was stupid- mainly because he was the most clever and talented man you’d ever met. Just…. Just not at fraction. 

“Oh T… you could’ve just left it for me to do with her, I don’t mind.”

“That’s not the point Y/n.” He snapped a little, shrugging your arms off him and spinning in the chair so he could face you. “She’s my daughter and I should be able to help her! It’s not like it’s that hard, it’s just I’m unbelievable thick.”

“Tom stop. Look - you can do this I assure you, it’s just been a long old time ‘kay? Your rusty and that’s only natural.”

“I really don’t think I could ev-“

“Can I teach you? It’s just the method and then I promise you’ll get it.”

It took a bit of persuasion but eventually Tom agreed, letting you pull the corner chair forward to beside his desk so you could demonstrate it to him. To be fair, he really could do it- just a bit of familiarising on the ‘stick-change-flip’ method. The way the lightbulb moment literally caused his face to light up; scurrying to do the question for himself, tongue sticking out in the process; then presenting it to you proudly - well it had you melting in your seat. 

“See! That took all of 5 minutes and you got it.” You elbowed  his side by leaning forward in the chair, which instead of letting go, Tom reached and caught, before pulling you up and round. You landed with you bum perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, Tom now stood up- his legs in-between your parted thighs - your feet hooking round the back of knees. 

“It’s all down to my incredibly talented teacher.”

“No…. No I really don’t think it is” You mused with a soft voice, fingers instinctively going to the nape of his neck - twirling the little curls round your fingertips. 

“Well even so… I think I could teach you a thing or two too.” Never one to mull on anything, Tom’s tone had immediately switched to something a lot more… mischievous. 

“Not even going to ask about my day? Wheres the chat mr smooth?” He had to repress the grin at your smirk because as much as you infuriated the hell out of him - you also had this weird ability of making him feel so entranced and helpless. He relented with a sarcastic chime.

“Fine, how was your day love.”

“Good…. but I have a feeling you’re about to make it a whole lot better.”

That was all the signals he needed to lean forward, in doing so forcing you back until your back landed completely on the cool wood. His lips feathered yours, both hands pinned either side of your head.

“Oh darling… you have no idea.”

[phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust]

Ultimately in general, do you think Paul is into men? Or like do you think he tried something with guys?

(I just wanna take 2 seconds to say that ive been taking painkillers recently, and although they’re pretty mild, they still leave me a bit disoriented. So if im talking utter rubbish - that seems out of the ordinary to usual nonsense - that might be why)

In my ever so humble opinion, I don’t think Paul is bisexual/gay, and ill outline my main reasons for believing he is straight:

1. Paul has stated that he is straight, and has never claimed to be bisexual/gay

Paul has been known to lie in interviews, and with him being an 80 year old man, whose been married 3 times with children, and is one of the most iconic, beloved and respected figures of the 20th century, it is understandable why he might want to keep his bisexuality concealed (assuming that he is bi). Its a lot of pressure to put on one person - and if you include the addition of him having a relationship with John, thats even more pressure. If he were to reveal he had a relationship with John, he would be all alone in that declaration, because of course John is not here to stand with him. Plus, he’d be changing the entire narrative to the Beatles breakup; and id assume that if him and John did have a sexual/romantic relationship, there must be parts that were messy, and mean-spirited. We know how dark the breakup was, even without the involvement of sex/romance. Paul tends to resist talking about heavier subjects, so I think an interviewer would have a lot of trouble discussing sexuality with Paul. So of course its possible Paul could be lying, and he has a reason to; but I do think that his word is worth something, and the fact that he has never identified himself as being bi is still something worth accounting for. It doesn’t have to be end of every discussion concerning Pauls sexuality, after all, there were times John appeared to claim he wasn’t bi, but its still just a factor to consider.

2. The lack of rumours concerning Pauls sexuality

When it comes to John, we have the word of several people to account for his sexuality (eg. Yoko, Pete Townsend, David Bowie) - and even John’s own words validate this. Of course, John could’ve been kidding with every comment he made about his bisexuality, and I suppose it is something we’ll never know the real answer to; but I feel we have enough reason here to at least doubt and call into question Johns sexuality. But with Paul, there appears to be few people accounting for him being anything other then straight. Rumours are obviously not the most reliable sources in the world, but they’d at least be suggestive of something. I get the feeling that with John, his bisexuality might have been a sort of “open secret” amongst many (“John Lennon had reputedly spoken to mutual friends of his own experiments [with homosexuality]” - Pete Townsend). And perhaps Paul being bisexual is an “open secret”, but ive personally never heard anyone make that claim, so I just wouldn’t be able to say with any real certainty.

And in fairness, as a few different people have pointed out, it could just be that Paul has a great PR team - I mean, he very rarely seems to have an controversies, so it must be a pretty damn good PR team - but then again, it could also just be that there has never been a substantiated claim to Paul having had sexual/romantic relations with another man. Perhaps we’ll find out more once Paul (I hate to say) dies, but for now, we remain at a loss.

3. The evidence for Paul being bisexual overall just isn’t strong enough for me

There are things that might make me doubt my belief that Paul is heterosexual. I can see the argument for song lyrics supposedly being telling of the truer nature of their relationship (eg. Dear Boy, The Long And Winding Road, Oh Darling!, Coming Up, Call Me Back Again). Even the Lennon/McCartney breakup on a whole shows a profound emotional turmoil between the two, that is somewhat evocative of a breakup between lovers. And then of course, there are the looks and off-hand remarks that maybe tell us something about the two. But at the end of the day, none of these things are concrete enough to convince me that Paul is bisexual, or that him and John had a full-blown relationship; it just feels like speculation to me. And I think we run a danger to some extent in pointing to things like “song lyrics” as certain evidence that Paul is attracted to men (specifically, John), because the way people express and articulate themselves is complicated and messy, and somewhat difficult to comprehend. Especially with lyrics as an art form, they are not always as straight forward as we may perceive them to be. The “evidence” that I would consider the most reliable, are probably things either Paul or John have said in interviews, or anecdotes involving the two (especially from the breakup). But as I said before, its just not concrete enough for me.

As for your second question, id hazard a guess to say he tried something, at least once, with a guy. I couldn’t prove this, but I just feel like most people will experiment at least once with someone of the same sex, and with Paul being an already-progressive guy who has knowingly surrounded himself with and supported gay people for decades, I feel like at some point or another maybe he just tested the waters y’know. Like he’s probably at least kissed a guy, just to find out. But like I said, I cant prove that claim, but its just a guess from me.

If anyone has any “evidence” - I always feel a bit silly for some reason saying “evidence” when discussing someones sexuality - concerning Pauls sexuality that I didn’t discuss here, or disagrees with anything ive said, feel free to challenge me on this! I am intrigued to hear why you guys believe Paul is bi!

[theunconcernedembalmer]

Toko! I was thinking of creating an ask the character blog for IDV or Genshin Impact and wanted a few tips on how to start off. Anything you can share?

ey yo my dude!! thank you so much for this question, now im lowkey tempted (again) to make a genshin ask blog sjadhlkshgkahshglsaj anyway my 1.5 cents is under the cut, yall know how much i talk here HAHAHAHAH

uhhhhhh so i guess we start with picking a character u really Vibe with tm? I KNOW THIS SOUNDS LIKE COMMON SENSE BUT LIKE ive been considering making a genshin ask blog for a while now but i never really got to it cos i couldnt really decide on a character (plus the fact that their outfits are. so intricate. is also a hmm since i try to follow details to a t) (at first i wanted to do zhongli, but i feel like to be able to muse him well u need to know the lore super super well, which i dont n im too lazy to research on that aha. n u know how much i respect characterizations, especially for such a complex character like him. i also considered xiangling for a period of time mostly for guoba but also like i have 2+1 blogs here n having one more might not be a very good idea aha) (as for aesop he was my Hyperfixation Character tm also cos i looked at his kit n went Yep i could work with this. probably)

so assuming ur not a dumbass like me n u kinda know who u wanna pick, id actually say to snoop around here for other ask blogs n kinda get a feel of the... scene? is that the word? or like u know, other blogs that u can potentially vibe with. ive run a couple of ask blogs before this current one (both that have died for different reasons) n from my experience interacting with other blogs (if theyre okay with it, i think most should be) is pretty fun. it also kinda helps get ur blog around to other ppl on other blogs so they can go Oh whats this cool shit n check u out, n its also a reason why we kinda reblog promo posts for other blogs (also cos we’re always excited when someone new comes on, its really the more the merrier. we see all :eyes:). interacting with other blogs is also an option when ur inbox is looking real roomy too

another reason why i havent exactly done a genshin blog is that idk i cant actually seem to find genshin ask blogs around (i have seen rp blogs, or those that answer asks with mostly text instead of art, but thats. not my thing since i hate my own writing aha) (i did find one aether blog some time ago, but for some reason i hardly see them around anymore??? idk man i might be wrong). its not like im trying super hard to find them ask blogs, so im sure they exist out there (hopefully?? im not sure but im being optimistic). i mean theres nothing wrong with just starting an ask blog without others around, but for me i do find a difference when i interact with other ask blogs n when i dont, n i prefer when theres others to have fun with (unfortunately i couldnt find any ask blogs to interact with in my previous fandom. i tried, but the blogs i approached seemed to go inactive shortly afterwards...) plus u get to meet friends that way too :D (i made a lot of friends via idv askblogs n its really been a joy vibing with others)

as for the idv scene. gestures around me. unfortunately there are a lot of ask blogs that arent that active anymore, but theres still some of us who are alive n kicking empty inboxes, n im sure everyone would love to see a new face around. winks at u. also there seems to be a lot more blogs popping up lately, which is really heartening to see.

then u kinda just. make ur blog? n a starting introduction post so ppl can reblog it n spread the word XD n yay u have a blog i guess??? XD

i gotta say tho. dont expect ur blog to take off immediately (especially for smaller fandoms like idv, tvbh i didnt think my blog would even get half this far when i started cos of how non existent idv tumblr seemed to be) n ur inbox will probably be looking pretty empty a lot of the time (or at least filled with some that u havent quite thought of how to reply to yet aha) (but also like empty inboxes happen pretty often, im sure most of us here have experienced this problem)

in the case of the first ask blog i ever started, it never really took off at all. ngl it was kind of demoralizing n depressing but to be fair i had picked one of the more obscure characters in the series, so obscure that many ppl in the fandom would have never heard of this character before. if u wanted to know, i took a character that only appeared in the 2nd musical of the series, who also made a very brief cameo in the manga to acknowledge his existence within that universe. thats how obscure my character was, but i went with him purely because he was my favourite character. i will say though i did enjoy it while it lasted n i learnt a lot from the experience, n i think thats whats important really.

i guess this kinda leads on (not really but let me digress) to the whole uhhhh thing where if u choose a more popular character, u get more attention. which is fine i guess? if u really vibe with the character, i mean theyre popular for a reason. n choosing a more popular fandom (like genshin) would objectively also get u more viewers n numbers. but like honestly i believe that ask blogs are meant for u to have fun with, n like trying to get popular gets tiring pretty fast (this shouldnt be like a main goal, but u know sometimes u subconsciously also want that gucci follower count n bomb ass notes or something. i used to be guilty of this until i realized it isnt worth it) especially if ur not enjoying yourself in the process. (case in point: my previous fandom was considerably larger n my blog got about 700 followers within a year or so, but it got very tiring n stressful to maintain after my interest in it died, n no one was really interacting with the blog even though i tried which kinda made it even more depressing despite the so called success n popularity of the blog)

anyway on a less serious note, theres a lot of fun stuff u can do with the ask blog, like some ask blogs have really fancy tags that i really like n try to do but also like not really HAHAHAHA. i kinda just channel what i want to see in an ask blog into my own ask blogs (good art is one, i try very hard for it to be good :,DD another is characterization, n others is just extra miscellaneous arts n stuffs like au ideas or memes. these are also somethings u could work on during ask box downtimes perhaps)

uhhh another side thing is like a posting schedule i guess? like ppl would be more likely to interact (i think) if ur blog is relatively active, n this is usually determined by the last post u made (i think XD). but like generally for blog maintenence id say try to kinda find a frequency that ur comfortable with?? cos i know my once a day posting is kinda insane if i wasnt so hyperfixated on all of this n fight the urge to dump all ur replies when u finish them XD (though ive seen some blogs do that n they do it pretty frequently so its pretty nice to know once u see their post u can spend some time going through the latest batch of posts XD) the queue function is pretty useful here even though i truthfully have never really used it, i kinda just post from my drafts really but it also helps to space out ur content to seem somewhat active especially when u dont have the time to be working on replies sometimes. i hope u know what im trying to say here aha

ANYWAY that was like my 1.5 cents cos i dont even think its worth 2 cents HAHAHAHAH these are just my thoughts from running all my blogs up till now, some that are still running n the others that have just died a natural death. i wouldnt actually delete them (theyre still around actually XD) cos theyre kinda like archives n i can look back at what i did last time. cos ngl i made some high quality stuff back then, n i dont even know how i managed to do that aldhflhdsgk. also ppl do look at archive blogs every now n then for the content thats there yknow

BUT YES anyway if u do decide to join the idv ask blogs hmu, ill be sure to give u a lil shoutout here. winks

[presszl]

Hi! As someone who deals with lifelong chronic GI (gastro intestinal issues) and ive got some little tips for your trouble! (If you want, feel free to ignore if you want.)

1. Of course if you can, look into a doctor that specializes in gastro issues, bc a professional opinion is the best thing you can get. They may also point you in the direction of some over the counter meds that can really be life changing! Don't be afraid to get into detail, ya gotta say whats up.

2. Try to look for probiotic products, they'll help with digestion health!

3. Perhaps do get allergy testing, bc depending on your symptoms you might be allergic to something that you commonly consume.

4. Keep track of what you eat, if you have the attention span keep a record of what you eat and how it makes you feel after. This is how i figured out I'm sensitive to dairy, greasy foods, tomatoes and a handful of other odd specifics!

5. (This is a bit gross srry) but if your troubles lie especially in the in the lower intestines levels and functions, make sure you pay attention to the productions, and log that along with what you ate prior. If you have like, a Lot Of Blood, its not normal and you should get a doc's attention about what to do, for it could mean a lot and not a whole lot good. (As u can see im sidestepping a lot of words um. Again sorry. I know u dont want some anon talking abt the scary/ickyness bits)

6. For some reason i find bread sometimes agitates on bad days (other fam members can recite why but i can never remember why) so if you find yourself making a lot of sandwiches, maybe just roll the ham n cheese or whatev up in a little tube and consume it that way! Or do the bread for lettuce swap but ive heard a lot of recalls so maybe not-

7. If you want a more natural reliever for stomach issues, Ginger is your bestie. Tea, candies, get a product you can tolerate and keep it handy. If there is a ginger candy id reccomend, it would be Gin-Gin's, but specifically the hard candy kind. The flavor is somewhat strong but it's easy to get used to when your bod gets to know it helps (or u can just. Cronch) ginger is the main one i remember currently but research into what can alleviate naturally is worth it, cuz sometimes it's all you need on a decently troubled day!

8. Things like tums can also help, worse comes to worse take some ibuprofen with it too. Pain is best not endured is the motto.

Anyways, that's the advice i have! I hope it helps, pretty please take care and reach out to those that can support you! You deserve to lead as painless of an existence as possible. Gn! - 🦓

marry me right now 💍

YES omg so i am doing some of these things (seeing a GI again, taking ginger frequently (550 mg pills once a day)) but i know i need to get my ass in gear & start logging what i eat & stuff (a little late to do it ten days before my appointment but anything works i guess?)

i did not know that about bread or probiotic stuff and i've been curious about allergy testing for a little while now. i suspect red sauce might be troublesome?? but that's just because that's what i was told is troublesome so. idk LMAO. spicy food is obviously a no go, i will never eat spicy things again unfortunately

all in all your message is very appreciated!!! i have never gotten a thorough bullet list of tips like this before & tbh coming from an actual person it is more helpful than just rereading medical websites over & over and not knowing what's true or what's not u know. i am proposing right now

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter III

 AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I finished the third chapter! Made with love and care for your enjoyment. I know this one is shorter, and I'm sorry. But I trust you will like it despite that detail! I made it extra fluffy, after the angst of the anterior, we all deserve a sweet.

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter IV coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 111

TW: None!^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was clear something changed in Kurapika after that night. It didn't go unnoticed by Melody. She noticed in the rhythm of Kurapika's heart that the man's grief was lighter. Not to mention discreet short glances the young man sometimes gave (Y/n) when they were in the same room or how he tended to stay closer to them. Kurapika's heart longed in the days when (Y/n) was not at the Nostrade mansion. 

And for Kurapika? He was neither oblivious of that change. He taught about how (Y/n) would serve him tea or coffee each time they did for themselves. He noticed the characteristic small manias no one else appeared to remark about (Y/n); like the silly way they stood with their hands in front of their chest when nervous, they touched their hair when they were concentrating on their work. Or even their nervousness around crowds. Despite the warmth that thoughts about (Y/n) gave him, they also filled him with doubts and fear. That person saw a side of him that very few had seen. On one hand, it made him feel less lonely, and he shared the burden of his soul with someone who, seemingly, comprehended him. On the other, it was his ugliest side. Don't get me wrong, at no point did he believe his cause was erroneous. It was the fear of lowering his defenses further, which had allowed him to survive so far, to at the end losing someone dear again.

There laid the dilemma. 

~

On Saturday evening, as was customary (Y/n) went to "keep her company"-as Neon referred to her therapy. Neon, her bodyguards, and (Y/n) were in the girl's room; while she just played with her stuffed animals. Neon being herself, talked a lot about her pastimes and trifles. And then it happened. The trigger pulled. "You know, (Y/n) you're dumb sometimes." Neon said directly in the face of the mentioned. Kurapika did not appreciate the insult to his "darling"- Being his boss he couldn't face Neon directly nor punch her, although the desire was not lacking. In the end, Kurapika ended up saying, with a slightly irritated tone, sincerely "Neon, it's time for the pause, we'll all go take a breath" Without Neon giving any value to the subject, she permitted everyone to go. (Y/n) sticking to their routine, headed to the employee kitchen to prepare coffee, and began to boil water. Kurapika also followed, aspiring somehow to comfort them-only something lost in how- stated "That was rude. Are you upset?"

(Y/n) turned to see him, inclined their head, smiled, and denied "No at all! She's right. When I was a child, someone throws a rock at my head, and I ended up like this." - responded teasing, possibly to relieve Kurapika's worries- "Plus, it's not her fault... I mean... she said it, but she's entirely unaware of the impact of her actions on others... Not because she's mean, I'm not trying to be impolite."- they added, gaining a disconcerted look from Kurapika.-"Neon has a dissociative disorder. She has lived in her distorted bubble all her life. Consequently, she disconnected from the consequences that her actions may have!"- (Y/ n) explained excitedly to Kurapika. Their enthusiasm, more than their tone of voice, was also reflected in small movements that (Y / n) made with its hands. Inadvertently, Kurapika smiled, considering their enthusiasm adorable. To finally recognize how charming (Y/n) was to him. 

~

Kurapika was sure he wanted to decide the whole condition with (Y / n), but he was still confused about what to do. He inferred that the wisest choice was to request advice. Next, he led towards the only other person he recognized as his friend in that place. Melody knew that Kurapika was young and inexperienced after all.

"I'm unsure about what to do, Melody. They've greatly helped me with something crucial to me, and I'm appreciative. (Y/n) is charming to me. They're so patient, thoughtful, and kind. I enjoy their company.

But what if it's not worth the trouble? It's illogical; we have known each other for roughly three months. They might not accept it or disappear. I can't permit myself to get disturbed." -Kurapika voiced all the insecurities he had. After a moment of meditation, Melody replied.

"I believe you like them. (Y/n) appears to make you happy, that's true. When they helped you, did they judge you, did they left?"-Melody tried to make Kurapika question his insecurities.

"Not at all; they were pretty reliable."-Kurapika answered, staring away. Melody gave him a sweet smile and continued-"If they proved themselves trustworthy, they merit a chance. I think you deserve to allow yourself a chance. I believe it will do good for you."

"Thank you, Melody." And he returned a sincere smile.

Likewise, Kurapika decided to take his chance. 

~

Already 7:30 pm and the workers of the Nostrade house were leaving. (Y/n) was preparing their bag when they felt a slight touch on the shoulder. Kurapika quickly took a step backward when (Y/n) instinctively shrunk in surprise at his touch. They promptly looked at Kurapika, who cleared his throat before speaking. "(Y/n) do you care to stay a little longer. I require to tell you something."

The mentioned one gave their sign smile as they hummed and nodded-"Sure!"

"Accompany me to the kitchen please, it will be quieter." request (Y/n) fulfilled. Already in the empty room, Kurapika took a deep breath. So many details made him nervous at the minute. He doubted himself. He had no idea how to approach sentimental topics.

(Y/n) 's gaze was on him, but without meeting his eyes. Which caused him to not decipher what they were thinking. He had no idea if they would reciprocate, get angry, or react. If there was something that intrigued and delighted Kurapika, was (Y/n)'s way of being. For him, it was mysterious and transparent at the same time. Genuine but selective in what they showed. And he wanted to ascertain more.

"(Y/n), since our time together has been relatively short, this may seem illogical to you. However, for me, it has been remarkably important and enjoyable. So I reasoned: I like you." 

(Y/n) still without seeing him in the eyes and without changing their smile, blinked a pair of times and sang, tilting their head "Thank you! I like you too; you're quite nice as well!"- Maybe they were a bit foolish after all...

"No, no! It's not that... I mean... I also do like you. I alluded to like you romantically." the young man amed to the person in front of him. Whose eyes widened making and making an O with its mouth. And while a flush creeped their cheeks , also rectified. "I do... too... like you romantically."-(Y/n) proceeded to put a hand on their forehead, the face visibly darker and embarrassed, to tremble-"I... That is much more logical... I am very sorry...I'm truly ashamed. I'm not good at those subjects!"

As (Y/n) felt bad, Kurapika also felt bad. He raised his hands, shaking them and little in denial "It's alright, it's alright. Worry not!" It was an embarrassing disaster. But they were a disaster together.

After some shame whines, (Y/n) sigh and continued "In this case, please allow me to invite you to morning tea tomorrow. It's the last I can do. I beg you." In an attempt to not make things more awkward, Kurapika quickly but joyfully added -"It would be splendid!"- to obtain a -"Marvelous!"- from his newly obtained sweetheart. They both went home ashamed. If something is clear, it is that neither of them stopped thinking about that event throughout the night. Also that the more they reflected on it, the more fortunate they felt.

~

The date was settled! The sole issue was that, due to the embarrassment, they both forgot to arrange an hour. And they both felt ridiculous. 

Kurapika wondered what time would be proper to present, to ultimately arrive at 9:30 a.m. While (Y/n) was waiting for him since 8:30, worried they were going to be late. Since (Y/n) always wore some kind of embroidered floral ornament, Kurapika assumed they liked flowers. And showed up with a bouquet, plus it was the first time (Y/n) saw him with his traditional Kurta clothing.

"Good morning (Y/n). I bring you these, I hope they'll be of your taste." Kurapika greeted, handling the flowers. The (h/c) gladly accepted them as they made a sign to come in.

"Greeting Kurapika! They're splendid. Please come in and get comfortable." they told. Kurapika sat on the couch, and (Y/n) arrived with two cups, a teapot, and a kettle. "Do you prefer tea or coffee?" 

"Tea, please." followed by the answer, (Y/n) poured tea into the cups and sat next to Kurapika. As if it were a silent understanding, neither mentioned anything regarding the incident on the schedule.

"I like your clothes. They are gorgeous!"- a little remark that touched the boy, who muttered a gentle -"thank you." Kurapika reflected a lot about his choice to confess, but he never repented it. The warmth he felt in that moment was pure for him. 

(Y/n) raised his hands to their chest and, fidgeting with their fingers, modestly asked -"I apologize if my inquiring is stupid, but... are we lovers?"- They had their gaze concentrated in their hands. The first thing that people usually think of when meeting (Y/n) is that they were a serious, refined, and intelligent character. This was partially true, but it had a somewhat childish side, more intimate, and it was what Kurapika was witnessing at the time.

"Naturally," he answered.

"I'm sorry if I don't fulfill your expectation for me. You are the initial lover I have. In fact, also my first friend." Despite being a relatively sad statement, (Y/n) had their grin stamped on their inclined face. That smile. That it always seemed the same regardless of the emotion her voice conveyed, with certain narrow exceptions. Kurapika felt the obligation to if they were blue, comfort (Y/n). Just like they had done. 

"I discerned that you invariably smile, and the smile is identical. Can I request an explanation?" He asked, knowing what his goal was. His partner was a bit uncomfortable with the question and shrugging their shoulders uttered.

 "It's quite complex to elucidate... I have some challenges expressing emotions to others. Not because they are not explicit to me.  Just my facial expressions don't mirror my sentiments.

Regularly, in addition to smiling, I can take a serious aspect. It does not cause me much trouble, since people consider me as someone friendly- not that I am not. Though may cause others to judge me uncanny. I'm sorry if it's the case." 

"Do not apologize. It doesn't appear eerie to me." Kurapika assured with a sweet smile. (Y/n) looked him in the eye again, showing their happiness in their distinctive way.

"You are a kind person, thank you." following their remark, the room fell into a comfortable silence. Kurapika and (Y/n) were two shy souls enjoying each other's company. Although everything happening was alien to both of them, they appreciated it.

They needed a little kindness and company, which they seemed to have finally gotten.

Who could have guessed? Neon did something helpful for once!

[timextoxhajima]

HOSTIS, Chapter XI: Et Invisibilia Filum, An Invisible String

Previous Chapter (X: Medium Duorum)

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz)

Genre (by chapter): drama, comedy, fluff

Category: Short Novel/Long Series

“nice to know that you’re beginning to enjoy this.”

you spend most of the day afterwards either making rounds or sitting at your cubicle in the research department working on whatever doctor kim assigned you to do. 

it was a little painful and agonising to have him talk to you and lee hyunjae so casually, given what happened earlier in the day, but doctor kim seemed like he couldn’t care less -- or rather... he just didn’t bother as long as the two of you did whatever you needed to do.

eric was sitting about two tables to your left, and lee hyunjae was sitting at a cubicle that was behind yours, so thank god you wouldn’t need to see him unless you stood up and turned around. 

the screen of the computer was sucking you into its void of virtual reality of words, numbers and medical terms, until mother nature called to you from outside the building.

your entire body shrinks and crouches in itself upon the loud clap, and the lightning flashes throughout the floor through the offices that lined the perimeter of the area. 

the words on the screen lose your attention despite your eyes still glued to it. there was nothing on the document that was being processed in your head while the rumble dies down, the lightning still flashing every few seconds 

your fingers begin to dig into your ear canals when the rain starts to slap against the windows of the offices. the sound of mother nature was so intimidating, even with all the layers and doors of glass between you and the outside world. 

you start to wonder about the ruthlessness of mother nature. 

you start to think of mrs kang. 

light flashes through the space again and you duck into your seat like someone just hurled a ball at you.

the lack of light and anything in your vision tells you that your lids were tightly shut, elbows resting on the table top as you wait for your heart to calm down from the rampant slamming against the insides of your rib cage. 

you could hear your breath in your own head but the shuffling around the space doesn’t die down. 

after you were confident the sky was done playing its own definition of music, your eyes open and you free your ears again, the scattered conversations and clacking of the keyboards coming back into your wariness. 

you were just about to return to your work again when your chair gets pulled backwards, and your neck whips a little too fast to glare at the person you saw in your computer screen.

“stop being such a wuss,” he says. your eyes roll away and he releases your chair. “i’ve decided to be nice today, on the account that it’s raining... you’ll meet me in the basement and i’ll let you sit in my car. your rounds today are later than mine, so i’ll be in the basement by the time you’re done.”

lee hyunjae doesn’t wait for you to respond before looking away like he was searching for someone else. he turns on his heels and walks away with his clipboard, and the clock between the two lifts which he stops in front of reminds you that he was going off for one of his rounds. 

“fuck’s wrong with him...” his back disappears into the lift and he looks at you with eyes that made your stomach flip. 

you shudder in disbelief, looking away just as the lift doors closed. 

the rain starts to let up in the hours of the evening, though the sun was really nowhere in sight. doctor kim had dragged eric to some research archive facility by the time you were needed for your rounds, so you begin to count the days you should have eric’s number when you didn’t.

your rounds concluded with a patient refusing to eat his dinner, and he said he’d eat only if you stayed to feed him, which you happily obliged. 

the nurses around were offering to take over you, knowing that you were done for the day. but being around your patients and creating a real, personal level of connection with them was different from simply being their doctor. 

maybe this was why your parents were never available, because all they wanted to do was to be a good doctor, not just a doctor. 

the happiness and satisfaction that overwhelmed you while he told you stories about his life while you fed him was so rewarding. there was nothing in the world that you would’ve loved more than to sit here and connect with another person. 

not just because you were his doctor, not because he was your patient.

the nurse hands you his medication and among the pills was one that made him drowsy, so it wasn’t long before his lids started to get heavy and you watched him drift off to sleep while he bid good bye to you. 

the time strikes you on the way down to the basement, and you were already prepared to go home on your own. there was no way lee hyunjae would’ve waited for you for nearly an hour.

but you still chose to try your hand at surprising yourself, so when the lift doors open to see him waiting for the lift, your eyes widen in pleasant wonder.

strangely enough, worry was written all over his face in his features, and his eyes looked like the ones you imagined he would have if he was talking to mrs kang. the phone was planted to his ear while someone speaks to him on the other end, and his eyes slowly tear away from yours to return his attention back to the conversation. 

“alright, i understand. i haven’t left the building, so give me a few minutes, i’ll be right there.”

doctor duties.

the phone gets slid back into his pocket and his chin tilts upwards, free hand patting down his dress shirt with his knuckles whitening around the handle of his briefcase. 

you were expecting him to berate you for being an hour late, given that stupid arrogant chin tilt he always did before he pissed you off.

yet for the first time in ten years, he speaks to you like he wasn’t going to shove a knife through your stomach. 

“i’m sorry, i have to head back up. mr jung-- my patient -- might have suffered a stroke, and the nurses need me to take a look at him because they couldn’t tell what induced it.”

the loss of words become oddly overwhelming, yet somewhat fascinating, when you had trouble processing his tone. 

not only that; he looked like a whole other person. 

“uh-- no, it’s fine,” you shook your head and stepped back into the lift, gesturing for him to come in. “whatever the patient needs.”

the lift panel lights up when you hit the floor where the wards he was in charge of was located, and you could feel his attention pressed into your side profile as he steps in.

there was a peculiar atmosphere that hung between the two of you throughout the entire lift ride, but when the door opens, he makes such large steps that made it difficult for you to catch up with. he didn’t even bother clocking back in, only heading straight for the ward where the patient of concern was in. 

you watch the edge of his briefcase disappear into the ward while you struggle to tail him, and the sight of him dropping it at the foot of the bed to pick up the clipboard with the patient records made you feel like you’ve just stepped into an alternate universe. 

one where lee hyunjae wasn’t your other ares; one where he wasn’t your lucifer.

you stay outside when you realise none of the patients in this ward were yours, and you observe him walking around the bed to the iv drip, talking to the patient, and the nurse who came around from behind you when she noticed him inside. 

the nodding, the small polite smiles, the frowns and the stress on his face make you wonder if you’ve ever looked like that, even if it wasn’t for him to see. watching him hold the patient’s arm while the nurse hands him gloves and a mask for him to carry out whatever procedures he needed to do made you feel immense guilt. 

for a second, you wished he wasn’t your enemy.

your phone chimes in the back of your jeans, and you open it to see that your father had dropped you a text.

dad: are you at home now? your mother and i are in the area, wanted to check if you’re home for us to drop in on you. 

the distant talking inside the ward earns your attention again, and this time he was sitting on a chair by the side of the bed, diligently writing down notes while both the nurse and the patient talk to him. the dim lighting of the ward (due to some of the patients already sleeping) was barely enough for you to make out the look of concern and professionalism on his face. 

but beyond that, you could see little strands of tiredness and spent energy, yet he still kept that little comforting smile on his face.

you wonder what it would’ve been like if the two of you didn’t just spend a decade at each other’s throat.

you: sorry dad, i got caught up in work today, i won’t be home early. 

dad: it’s alright! completely understandable. give me a call once you’re back home, we miss you.

a weak smile spreads on your lips before you shove it back into your pocket, and a passing pair of nurses walk past you talking about dinner. 

right, dinner.

you inhale a large breath as you pull out your phone again, and your finger hits the application button even before your mind tells you to. 

hyunjae spends easily forty five minutes talking to and checking on his patient, even the nurse was sent away by him to have dinner when he found out she hadn’t eaten. 

your rear was planted to the stool in the pantry of that floor, two boxes of ordered food charged to your card sitting on the table behind you. you could still hear the little howls of wind that were seeping in through the cracks of the pantry window from the aftermath of the thunderstorm, but this espresso machine seemed to warrant your attention more. 

never in your life have you felt so defeated by a stupid machine; you’ve pressed every single button on the damn device and yet the thing doesn’t come alive. 

you weren’t sure how long you’ve been angrily staring at it, but you were snapped back to reality when the pantry door beeps open. 

he was carrying his briefcase and the concern in his eyes was slowly wearing away, so you could guess he’s probably fixed whatever happened with his patient. 

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you were going to murder that coffee machine.”

your lips get sucked between your teeth as you watch him head over to the table and pull the boxes open. setting his briefcase on the floor, he sits down on the stool opposite where you would be sitting, and he picks up his phone instead of eating without you at the table. 

the machine takes your attention away again when he starts talking to his mother over the phone; most of the time he was just convincing her he’s eaten and he’s back at home. 

shoving your fingerpads into all the buttons on the machine, you shake your head while listening to him lie to his mother over the phone.

then again, you did it too.

“alright, yeah... i got it... okay, bye mom, i’ll see you soon.”

you hear a small thud where his phone would be placed on the table, and the silence only makes you more agitated with the coffee machine.

“that thing’s broken by the way. it doesn’t work.”

a frown slaps itself on your face when you turn around to glare at him in utter irony. 

“so-- you just sat there and let me fiddle with this thing, which doesn’t work, for the entire duration you were here?”

his laughter ripples through the air when he gets off the stool and strides to you, his hands in his pockets and one of your hands still on the machine. an exasperated sigh leaves your lips when you turn around to turn off the main switch connected to the machine, and his footsteps begin to near you.

“it was entertaining to watch you try to figure out something that doesn’t work.”

a bemused scoff runs off your tongue just as you turn around, only to find him barely a foot away from you. your pupils dart away when you notice his hands coming out of his pockets.

this was all too familiar but why does it feel different?

one of his fingers finds the belt loop on the back of your jeans and he pushes you forward. your palms find his chest for support upon the sudden movement, but your eyes flutter shut when kisses you for the third time that day. 

it lasted for barely five seconds, but the warmth from him flowing into you was eerily comforting, so much that you were beginning to feel scared.

he pulls away and scans your eyes for a moment, but it’s not lee hyunjae if he doesn’t open his mouth to say something that completely ruins the magic of the moment.

“nice to know that you’re beginning to enjoy this.”

“ugh,” you huff and push him off yourself, your attention gravitating back to the food. “you’re unbelievable.”

you were worried you were going to get used to it, or that you were probably never going to get used to it; having hyunjae sitting directly opposite you, eating his food that you ordered, and telling you everything about the patient he was just attending to.

two weeks ago, you would’ve sworn that he wouldn’t even want to be in the same room as you, since you didn’t either. 

it was becoming a little complex to understand the relationship that was developing between the two of you. 

sure, his antic quality isn’t going to vanish completely; that was what most of your rivalry with him was based off: constant bullying and vulgarity-hurling fueled by resentment and hatred.

then again, it could just be because the both of you had nothing to compete for anymore, besides a promotion of course.

hyunjae keeps to his word and lets you follow him to the car, the entire time spent in silence because the both of you were spent from the day. 

the window by the passengers’ seat was slightly rolled down, the scent of rain in puddles on the asphalt road made you feel like you were in another country. 

it was your favourite part of a thunderstorm. 

the amber lights from the street lamps were being reflected off the puddles, every now and then a ripple appearing from dust or a lone drop of water dripping from a tree. 

the cool air was gently whizzing past your face as the car drove along the road, and the sound of the tires against the gravel was oddly intriguing. 

you were surprised that lee hyunjae hasn’t said a word since he started driving, only occasionally hearing a shuffle when he fiddles with the cover of the steering wheel. 

the car pulls up right outside your residence and a dog barks somewhere in the distance, your eyes fixating on the little droplets still rolling off the leaves of the plants in your backyard. 

“you were awfully quiet throughout the ride.”

the fresh scent of the rain and nature gets sucked into your lungs, comforted that he didn’t ruin the moment again. 

“i’ve learnt to keep my mouth shut whenever i want some peace and quiet.”

you pause.

“maybe you should try that too,” you turn your head to face him, and he smiles with a scoff, one hand still on the steering wheel. he turns off the engine and gets out of the car, and your eyes trail along his movements, waiting for him to drag you out of the vehicle.

he gets the door of the passenger’s seat open, and he goes ahead to ruin the moment. 

“okay now, get out of my car.”

a snort coughs its way up your nose and you shake your head, grabbing all your belongings and stepping out of the car. 

“you really know how to make the most of a--”

another kiss.

one arm finds your waist and the other rests lightly on your chin to help angle your jaw. the gentle, chilly breeze runs shivers down your spine despite being in a coat, and butterflies start to emerge in your gut, the same way they did the first time you had a conversation with eric.

hyunjae’s eyes open to meet yours after he slowly pulls away, the air rushing between the two of you creating some sickening sense of longing in your blood. 

his lips get sucked between his teeth as he gradually loosens his hold around you, and something flashes in his eyes before he completely lets you go. 

“stop getting your lipstick on me.”

“... wha-- jesus!” your lips fall apart in complete disbelief and bewilderment, his hand reaching to the door behind you and slamming it shut against the door. “how is it my fault tha--”

“shut up and go home,” he gives you a gentle push towards your residence and he turns on his heels. 

you were blinking so profusely, you would’ve thought you were having a seizure while you watched him walk back round to the drivers’ seat.

he gets it open and has one foot into the vehicle when he pauses, looks up, and raises his voice loud enough for you to hear. 

“i’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: can i just say im so fucking uwu for this two rn... but im gna be honest... i’m #teameric... this shit hurted... big time hurted...

Chapter XII: Terminus

[uwuowotf2waslife]

The mercs with an s/o who is on the autism spectrum? If you want to

 as a person with diagnosed autism( ASD that later changed to SCD but concidering my countrys lack of proper diagnosis and non-existant support when i was growing up, im not sure,it might was a result of chronic abuse or i was a really weird kid) its my duty to answer this ask,

always know that you are perfect with all your imperfections 

just because maybe your brain is wired different it doest make you less of a person

you are poetry

Scout

-my boy has adhd ( probably undiagnosed until he was examined by Medic) so you two might have a little problem at the begining.

-he might be the closest to a jack russel in human form, but he cares about you and is willing to sit down and do his research so he can understand you and your struggles. He isn’t a hypocrite, he is a hyperenergetic bundle of daddy issues and is sure he will annoy you from time to time, he annoys pretty much everyone except his mom on rare occasion, he is a hanfull and he knows that years now. But he also has come to understand that everyone has struggles and little things that make them more special than others.

-if you have problems with communication , he’ll be your mouth .Problems with sensory overstimulation? he will escort you to the safest place and hug you tighter than he thought hes capable of. People mistreating or bullying/insult you? the bat is in his hands and his ready to hit home runs on their balls. You might not be the perfect couple, you will struggle like every couple and have fights and arguments, but he is ready to phase every difficulty that comes on your way. He loves you and he is here for the ride even if its bumpy.

Soldier

-( I and i think a big part of the community claim he is actually autistic) Probably the most tricky of the mercs, since at one side he might completely relate/understand you and the relationship go smoother than soft butter on bread, or he might have problems communicating the relationship problems with you.

-as all relationships you two must sit down and communicate your problems. Believe me he isn’t mentally retarded ( a horrible misconsumption ive seen being thrown around), yes he is stubborn and can’t read social cues to save his life, but he is a loyal beefcake with a golden heart hardened by a lifitime of war. He knows he isn’t the perfect man, he has nightmares and panic attacks on the regualr after so much trauma in his life. But he also knows that if he S/O needs him, it doesnt matter if its a small or big thing, he is ready to go through hell and back to make them happier or more comfortable 

-you can’t stand loud noises? copy that privet, he will stop yelling/ screaming around you. Certain things make you uncomfortable/ anxious? hes at your side and he is ready to snap necks...you have his heart and his adoration, he ain’t a coward or a pansy, you’ll win over any challenge that comes your way like the absolute unit you are and he is there to assist

Pyro

-fresh from the start they can recognise you have autism, i lowkey think they might be ( actually in young adults asd and mild schizophrenia can be mixed and confused by not good qualified doctors, its been years since i read that study so correct me if im wrong) or have really good gut insticts. Either way, they know you are struggling and trie in subtle ways to help you

-did an important call without stuttering? hug and smooch on the crown of your head, completed all your work/homework? they will cover you in stickers and cuddle you in their pillowfort, stood up for yourself? my girl theyll make a huge cupcake tray and youll two will eat while watching sappy disney films

- you won’t struggle as much, i see them as more easy going than other members of the team. But they also have big issues that may create problems in the relationship that you both need  to work on. They are more than a handfull and they aren’t unaware of it, they spended years locked inside their own head doing god-knows how vile and harming things to their mentality and body, they can’t believe they are alive and they wake up every day next to the most beautifull human being they have come across their lif, ( Y/n). You will bond slow but strong , you are their sunshine and theyll make sure their sunshine shines no matter what they have to do

Engie

( lowkey i think is canon he has some form of high-functioning autism, just hide its behind the southern warm and soft hospitality)

- when you confess, he hugs you ( a big thing coming from him since i dont consider him a touchy fella)  and returns the confession that he is too. He knows each person experiences different so he won’t press you for explanations or description of what you have is excactly. He just assures whatever happens, he is there to help you with

- doesn’t really change how he views you, but he takes the initiative for things like talking to strangers, calling to order or things that you struggle with, but he doesnt baby you. You are an adult person and will be treated as that, even if sometimes he feels he needs to “help” or “protect” you

-one of the most  easy going of the mercs, but his work is his priority so there will be long arguments about it. He understands your frustation, but he is a workaholic years now before you came in his life and can’t bring himself to change that. His work is his routine, the only comfort he knows and the only place that accepted him for who he is. But, he will be more elastic and have more breaks/ days off even if it means the project will be finished an hour or two later, unless it has an urgent deadline. He knows he can be very cold and emotionless, he is an engineer, not a spy for that reason. Furthermore he has his own times when he is stubborns or has an anger explosion because something broke/didnt meet his expectations or got way too invested into something that turned to be worthless/ uselless so he isn’t the one to judge if you are in a sour mood or you have your own “ explosion”. After all said and done, late at night when you are both alonein his workshop he will just cradle you in his arms and make a silence promise to always be there for you through thin and thick ( as we say to go through 40 waves and 40 more ) because you are something that no machine or creation can emulate or recreate, you are ( Y/N) and you are the love of his life.

Demo

-arguably one of the three more knowledgable of the mercs in the topic of mental health department. Being raised in an orphanage i doubt he didnt had at least a dozen other kids who had from high to moderate to severe autism ( during the 20th century it wasnt uncommon for people with autism to be thought less human or that the family of said people couldn’t provide for them in severe cases so theyd be dropped on orphanages and psychiatric hospitals)., so he has some first hand experiene with what autism is. It isn’t something for him in all honesty, after so much trauma and hardship in his life he is at peace that peopleare different and their brains are rarely wired the same

-he also know he isn’t ideal, he acts really stupid when he is drunk and his alcohol consumption alone is a very big problem for any relationship he ever had in his life and i doubt he is the image of psychological perfection, but he also knows that if you are willing to keep him around you have seen him wasted out of his mind, he is more than willing to put up with anyof your quirks or difficulties.

-you want to stim? go ahead he’ll leave the room/the house so you can stim to your hearts content, you want to stay? sure thing lass, hell sit in a corner and drink a bit while you have your thing. Work/ school/ home life is stress full and you are in the verge of a breakdown? he has already wrapped you like a burrito and he is holding you while you cry/vent, you dont want to be touched at that moment? hell take you to an open field and you can blow things up to get all those feelings out of you. He isn’t ideal, he is at peace with that, but now that you appeared in his life, you became the apple of his eye. He’ll cherish you and protect you both as body but as a mind and a soul for whatever shit life throws at you, he was never one to back down a challenge.

Heavy

-due to the language barrier and his nature as a quiet man it’ll take him some time. If you bring it up he’ll simply nod and run to Medic or Spy for translation. He isn’t shy to do a doctors worth of research so he knows what he has to deal with, he knows his english is broken and would prefer to have a migraine over the amount of books hes read than make you feel uncomfortable. Probably will ask advice from Medic ( the most qualified on the team) untill hes satisfied he knows enough.

-probably the sanest of the mercs, but he isn’t perfection. He had to endure famine and death from very early in his life, always be the stone his family anchored on and most people on his life, so he has his own big problems. At one side he is used to so many things, he is somewhat indiferent. You aren’t harming anyone nor its life threatening, so it doesnt really change what he feels about you. All people have flaws, noones perfect and if they do think they are perfect, they are very, very wrong. I won’t lie to you, some times hell get confuse with your behavior or will get tired of being the “ anchor” of the relationship, but he will never admit it. He survived the Gulags and years in Siberia, this is nothing but a walk in the park for him. He isn’t a fuckboy, he doesn’t want you just for some fuck and then hell forget you exist, he is much more sentimental than he appears to be. He beginned this with you because he sees you more than a body, he sees you as someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with even if itll be a challenge, he was never a quiter and he wont be now.

- don’t expect much communication help from him, unless its in russian. But whenever you feel the tiniest bit of self-doubt or anxiety his arms are open to embrace and warm you with  his love. He might was raised among anarchy and war, but he is a gentle giant with a heart bigger than Russia herself. He knows you two will struggle especially on the communication domain but he is willing  to do what it takes to make your life easier/ less challenging. He came here to stay, only if you allow him 

Medic

-Arguably the most medically qualified of the mercs, but considering the era of his studies hes at least rusty on modern terminology and general understanding of what autism is. Nontheless his a doctor ( with or without a medical license) and i doubt he ever followed the rules of ethical and unethical medicine. He is a healer primeraly and he can’t claim to be the most mentaly stable of the team.

-he might be many things, he knows hes at least crazy by normal standards and has made extremely questionable choices in his life,but he cares for the people he is close to, lovers and collagues alike. He won’t try to ‘change’or ‘medicate’ you; unless you specifically ask him for, like yes he has defied any sort of ethical medicine and has played god many times in his life, but he knows that if he changes you, you won’t be ‘you’. You will be you still, but nothing more than a lobotomized version of yourself and he fears that. Let’s be real, he probably choosed you because you are a smart individual ( that includes both street and book smarts alike) so if he “killed” your smart he would essentially kill you and this doesnt sit well with him.

-feeling down? no worries, the doctor is here ( afterhe finis hes re-connecting snipers new kidneys). Stressed? Archimedes will be your own personal cheerleader and the rest of the flock won’t let you all stressed and alone while Medic is working. In the simplest of works,he wants you to know that  he might be a madman on the field and the medbay, but he is also your lover and that means he cares about you. He doesnt care if act a lil strange or you have some special things about you, guess what? he doesnt cares. H e never cared and he will never cared, all the greatest minds had something  special about them and you are no exception. He chosed to have a relationship with  you and you accepted the love request of a surgery-happy maniac , im sure he is beyond equiped to handle you in all aspects. He might not be the most touchy but he will make his point across that you are someone who means wayy to much for him to change

Sniper

- ( i highly think he is autistic, just the way hes potrayed in most fanfics he acts lowkey autistic, mostly in the communication and sociable part) growing up in the middle of nowhere probably he has never even heard ‘autism’ as a word , so his very lost. (another headcanon of mine is that he is also iliterate) You need to explain to him what autism is and how it affects your life. He has a non-pleasant expression on his face, because he realises most things that you say what that “autism”is and the thing it has are things he actually  has and felt throughout his life. He looks like hes having a religious expierience and when you are done he only nods and hugs you almost mechanically.

-he will need some time, not because ofyou, but because of him. You might think he is breaking up with, butin reality he just needs some time alone to sit down and think about all the things you said. Its one of the biggest revalations he has experienced on his life and it has hit him like a wall of bricks.

- after a few days he will return to the base and will ask you to meet with him on the most secluded of his snipers nest. While you prepare for the upcoming breakup, he actually showers and wears somet hing nice for the first time in a while. He goes out of his way to make the sniper nest a bit more “ comfortable” even bribe spy into giving him one of his fancy wines. Once you go up the nest and you two meet, he is the most clingy he has ever been and almost drinks the whole bottle out of pure anxiety. Once his tipsy enough he actually confesses that from the things you said, he found out hes also autistic. Que him basically clinging you like a broken koala baby while half-sobbing to expell all the tension he  has inside him. Please pet his hair and rub his back,he will melt and quit his rugged manly man persona for that moment. He needs you there, he needs your soft touch to ground him while his whole life comes crushing down and a weight he never imagined is being lifted from his shoulders.After that, its quaranteed you two won’t be seperated ever again, he needs you to ease all this pain he has gathered from his troubled life and he will provide you the world and the stars.

Spy

- he knows what autism is( as a spy he should know about human psychology/mental disorders just to know how to impersonate any person with or without issues) and he is a very observant man. He has above average attention span and knows how to read body language so he has figured you are autistic a long time ago. He is just waiting for you to open up about it or confess it, but he also knows the social stigma around autism so he keeps his mouth shut because he really doesn’t want you  to feel uncomfortable or ‘naked’ in front of him

- i heavily headcanon him to be at least depressed/having an ugly anxiety disorder or even a dissosiative disorder considering a big part of his life is carefully crafted theater , so he can’t say he is any more better than you.Furthermore he never really cared about what society thinks about mental ilnesses, whos here to judge who sane and not? he has seen so much shady things behind closed doors of “ pure” people he has lost all respect for what society thinks its normal and what is weird or not acceptable. Yes he follows the rules of “good” society but thats more of a habit than a need. Plus have you seen what the good ol’ society behind close doors? yap youll need a good bible study and some church to wash away the sins.

-eventually when you confess to him,he doesn’t really act. He knows its a heavyemotinal moment for you but he can’t open up for his own problems, at least now. But he will embrace you for now and say all the sweet words you need to hear...untill the same time he gets drunker than he can and confesses to you in french all his psychological troubles while he cries on your chest. He won’t let go unless he wants to vomit and he will cling to you for dear life while he experiences one of the ugliest meltdowns he has experienced in the last decade. Probably will wake up with a monster of a hangover, but once he feels you wrapped around him and feel your heartbeat on the bones of his back something will meltin him. He will gather whatever strenght he has, turn around, give you one of the most genuine smiles he has ever given in his entire life and peck your lips bore he starts whining and requiesting you to either kill him or fetch medic. Perhaps one day hell say all the things he wants to say in you mother tongoue but for now, just know he will cherish you and love you like the most exquisite poetry that has graced his life

[gothamcityneedsme]

I saw this bouncing around my dash and decided to fill it out myself for fun :)  I decided to not double-list any games, and I tried to mix up the companies I used too so that the list would be more unique.

Long post, so I’m doing a readmore for my longwinded part lol.

(read more)

Favorite Game: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords - I could talk about this game forever.  How it tears apart the Star Wars universe from within, how it creates a compelling story while challenging the usual themes, etc.  I could talk for ages about the characters and how their motivations slot in place, and how this game lends itself to interpretation and analysis alongside roleplay.  It’s just a wonderful game, one I deeply love and will always love.  It’s a game that isn’t afraid to have you talk to other characters for twenty or thirty minutes at a time and honestly I’m always riveted at every line.  This game deserves the cult fanbase it has, but I think there’s a lot the fanbase misses in appreciating this game.  (Note...gameplay is a little janky and a community made mod restores a lot content that was cut before shipping-the game wasn’t properly finished).

Best Story:  Fallout New Vegas - It’s the setting that makes the story here, and all the moving pieces and factions alongside the main conflict really make this game stand out.  There’s so many little pieces to find along the way in the world and the way the main quest splits based on who you want in power feels important--and you are choosing a future for this whole region.

Favorite Art Style: The Witness - This game is peacefully wonderful with its visuals.  There are wonderful nature scenes and nests of wires and panels spreading in various parts of the island that are fascinating to look at.  The environment is half of the gameplay in most areas, so it’s important to look around even though exploration is not really the gameplay.  You find puzzles in the world, even in nature, and it’s fascinating.  The colors are bright and beautiful.  There is even a map in the middle of the island inside of a lake that helps you track your progress if you notice it (it isn’t like a normal ‘map’).

Favorite Soundtrack: Shin Megami Tensei IV - I love video game soundtracks, but SMTIV is something special.  The music booms in ways that make you really understand the atmosphere of the world, and there’s a great mix of different kinds of tracks for different places.  I love the tracks for the other worlds you enter, and the themes of the different routes are done so well.  Some of the music draws from past SMT games, but the remixes done for this game really are stunning to me, and there’s so many fantastic original tracks.

Hardest Game: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - I love this game but I literally never touch it without a walkthrough, which is why it gets to be the hardest game on the list, despite being a point and click adventure game lol.  Also just emotionally this game is challenging too, but I definitely mean this more in terms of getting a ‘perfect run’.

Funniest Game: The Stanley Parable - Trying to make this list has taught me that I don’t really play many ‘funny games’.  I don’t know if a game where multiple endings demand that you kill yourself should count as a ‘funniest game’, but it is also a game where the narrator tells you to stare at a fern and memorize its features, so....it counts.

Game I Like that is Hated: RWBY Grimm Eclipse - I’ve been playing this game since it was in early access and have loved it the whole time.  I find the gameplay soothing and fun, and I like playing the different characters.  It’s a game I play to chill out and just enjoy some fun battle mechanics.  It’s a fun game and I’ve spent over 100 hours in it, so I hope I like it, lol.

Game I Hate that is Liked:  Nier Automata - Neither this game’s gameplay or story impress me, and the fact that you have to replay basically the same stuff from a more boring-to-play-character’s pov in order to SEE all of the plot is a huge damper on the experience.  The story, to me, someone who engages with a lot of robot-focused fiction, is far from impressive or new, and it hardly engages with genre specifics at all, let alone in a new or interesting way.  I view this game as ‘a story with robots in it’ rather than ‘a story about robots’, which, to me, is a detriment.

Underrated: Nevermind - This game is amazing and very unheard of--and when it is heard of, it has been marketed incorrectly.  Nevermind seems like a horror game, and does market itself as one a bit, but it’s much more than that.  It’s more about trauma, recovery, therapy, etc.  This is a game that is so mindful about the topics it engages in that I am impressed by it every time.  It’s heavy with symbolism and character, despite lacking conversations or other similar game mechanics.  This is a lovely game that I really wish more people knew about-`p5-all of the patients are so interesting, and the focus on recovery and mental health is impressive.

Overrated:  Fire Emblem - I sort of mean this as the series as a whole really.  I have enjoyed the entries I have played somewhat, but I overall consider the series much less impressive than I was led to believe by others.  The gameplay especially is not impressive to me in any regard, even though I sometimes do find myself enjoying it.  The stories are alright, but many of them are weighed down by the gameplay and as a writer and person who likes to analyze writing, it’s very hard to do so when it isn’t able to fully exist under the chains the gameplay forces on it.  There are ways to mix gameplay and story well, Fire Emblem has not really done that in any of the entries I’ve played.  That being said, I don’t regret playing them, and I will occasionally replay, but I consider them mediocre games at best.

Best Voice Acting: Devil Survivor 2 - I love the voice acting in this game.  I feel like all the characters are really suited to their voices, and it’s really easy for me to visualize their voices.  They really bring the game to life and make both the dramatic and the funny scenes more enjoyable.

Worst Voice Acting: Jedi Knight Jedi Academy - I love this game, I really do, but some of the voice acting is janky.  Some of it is okay too--I think Kyle Katarn’s voice actor does fine, and some of the others I like NOW but hated when I was a kid, but the male protagonist voice in this game is just awful.  Which is bad when Jennifer Hale is the female voice actress lol.  His performance is passable though unless you’re playing darksided--the darksided ending to the game lacks all punch when you’re playing the male protagonist.

Favorite Male:  Battler Ushiromiya from Umineko no Naku Koro Ni - He’s the protagonist for most of the visual novels and I adore him utterly, especially once you move past episode 2.  He’s a wonderful character who I care about deeply.  I love his drive and how he fights--he’s someone who is easy to cheer for.  He matures well throughout the series and his character development is just wonderful.

Favorite Female:  Naoto Shirogane from Persona 4 - I really like how Naoto fits so well in the game, especially for being a final recruit--oftentimes the final recruit of Persona games (post 3) have a bit of a more difficult time feeling right with the group.  Naoto works really well though, and I love her struggles and story as well.  I think the difficulties she has concerning living as a woman in her field hit very deep to a problem that has existed for a very long time.

Favorite Protagonist: Connor of Daventry from King’s Quest 8 Mask of Eternity - I’m like, one of four fans of this character in the world, lol.  KQ8 is not a very well liked game and it does have a lot of issues, both with age and with how much of a departure it is from the series prior to it.  It’s strange to take a puzzle adventure game and make it a hybrid with what basically is a shooter, and it doesn’t really work.  Add to that the fact that you spend most of your time in the game without anyone around to talk to and it leads to this really polarizing and weird experience.  For me, Conner goes through what I would consider to be the ‘Ultimate Nightmare Scenario”.  Everyone in the world is turned to stone except him (and he survived out of mere chance) and so now it’s up to him, practically alone, to save the entire world.  There is no game lonelier than this.  I adore him for his bravery in the face of it, and how he just picks up to do what must be done because someone should do it, and if no one else can, then he will.  I also really love how he apologizes to people who are encased in stone while he takes money from their houses to help him on his journey.  I really do think he went back after the game was over and gave everyone heaps of gold to pay them back with interest lol.

Favorite Village:  Oakvale from Fable - The first Fable is the only one I really like, and it was one of the games I played when I was little, so the hometown in the game always meant a lot to me.  I like how you grow up there and how your tragic backstory is there--and then how you get to return to the town years later after you’ve come into your own, and you can see it completely rebuilt.  I like to spend a lot of my time in this town, just wandering around it and playing the minigames.  Even though I have a house in every town, Oakvale is where my hero calls home.

Most Hated Character:  Merril from Dragon Age 2 - I don’t really want to lay into how I feel about Merril, but what I will say is that it was suggested to me that I totally ignore her when playing, and I did so.  I only met her for her quest, dropped her off in town, and literally never spoke to her or interacted for the rest of the game.  I had a much better experience for it, honestly.  She appeared after I made my choice in the end of the game, which felt weird since I hadn’t spoken to her in several ingame years, but other than that, the game was totally fine without her.  I sort of just wish you could kill characters in DA2 the way you can in DAO, then I’d just do that, tbh.  It doesn’t suit very many (or any) of the characters I rp in DA2 to keep her around or support her in any way.

First Game I Played: Mixed up Mother Goose Deluxe - I’m not actually sure if this is the FIRST game I’ve ever played or not, but it’s one of the first I played alone as a kid.  I really loved it--this is probably what created my love for point and click adventures, and the game was very silly and fun.

Favorite Company: Bioware - I’ve always been a sucker for Bioware games, ever since Knights of the Old Republic 1 was my favorite childhood game.  I love how they do stories and party members, and while I’m not a fan of all of their games, I really love what they’ve made and their style of storytelling and character driven plot.  Even though sometimes their stories get cliche, I think the suit video games well and most of my early gaming was within their games.

Hated Company: EA - Bioware truly only started to go to shit after the EA acquisition, so I fucking hate EA.   I know Bioware had issues before EA too, but I definitely don’t think EA has helped the situation whatsoever.

Depressing Game: The Beginner’s Guide - I relate to this game as a creator and a writer, and it affects me deeply because of the story it tells and the questions it raises.  It makes me reflect on how I think of myself as a creator, and it reminds me of friendships I used to have.

Creepy Game:  The Path - God, I love this game.  It’s just aimlessly wandering around and finding symbolic scenery and watching your current character comment on it.  Then, you go off to find your girl’s wolf, and each one is different and unique to her, and you watch it ‘kill’ her--and facing her wolf is the only way each girl can truly mature.  Whenever you get to grandmother’s house, the camera switches to first person, and your eyes keep closing, so you can only see while clicking to move.  It forces you to keep moving so that you can see, but since you are moving, you only get to see things somewhat vaguely.  It’s got a great atmosphere, and I love the symbolic storytelling.

Happy Game: Eastshade - This game is so sweet.  There’s some drama around to with many of the quests, but I like this as an rpg without combat, and I think this would be a really good kids game.  There’s a lot to see and explore, and the game was made to be really pretty so that you want to paint several aspects of it.  It’s really lovely to just wander around in this game and bike around the area, painting anything that suits your fancy.  As long as you don’t finish the main quest, you’re free to wander, and materials do respawn, so you essentially can infinitely paint once you get far enough.

Favorite Ending: Virtue’s Last Reward - I love the questions this game asks and where the ending goes.  It thematically ties together--the whole reason the game itself exists is to get the attention of a ‘higher being’--the player, essentially.  I love how it plays with that concept, and even though the final game in the series doesn’t entirely pick this idea up where this game left it, standalone this game is stunning in how it comes together.