#like i also saw someone saying ray gets everything he wants and there are no consequences for his actions

[akkpipitphattana]

Having a tiny little curated bubble on here is fun because it means I only learn days later that people think the raymew fight was actually about sex, and not the equivalent of having a breakdown at 3am because you spilled a bag of crackers. Like, sure it's a little bit about the crackers, you wanted to eat those and now you have to sweep, but sitting on the floor sobbing about it is definitely because there's other shit going on you haven't dealt with

exactlyyy. like i knew people would think that because of the way it was framed and because people love to shit on ray for any and every reason, but i’ve come to accept those people simply lack media literacy and aren’t capable of thinking past surface level, and that’s helped me deal with the raging stupidity in this fandom 🫶🏼

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (17)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n try to outsmart the situation. wc: 3.5k Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA A/n: this took longer because trying to come up with a climax scene was SO hard, I hope I did some justice here

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

HER BODY ACHED. Every muscle seemed to join a protest, sending out persistent signals of pain. The cold air seemed to snake through her limbs, and the chains that bound her wrist seemed to cut into her flesh. The bed underneath didn't do much to ease things—it was as stiff as a board, offering about as much comfort as the floor.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been here. It was likely no more than a week, but it felt like months. Maybe hunger messed with her head, making everything feel fuzzy. The lack of nutrition had her feeling delirious. For someone who claimed to be in love with her, Eric showed no mercy for her well-being.

Of course, he didn't, she thought, because there was no love in the first place, no genuine care, no honest affection—just an illusion crafted by his distorted mind.

Her eyes drifted shut, and a sigh escaped her lips. The air in the barn was thick, almost suffocating, with its heavy, musty scent. It offered no peace for her tonight—or was it already early morning? The darkness seemed to stretch endlessly, blurring the line between night and dawn.

But something felt different.

The atmosphere shifted abruptly, a quiet change that quickened her heart. The unmistakable sound of a vehicle reached her ears before it abruptly stopped on the other side of the wall. A car door creaked open, accompanied by distant voices. Then came the purposeful footsteps, growing louder with each step as they approached her.

The barn door groaned in protest, creaking open slowly, letting in a thin ray of dim light. Her breath caught as Eric stepped in. Yet, it wasn't his presence that shocked her; it was the man he dragged along, someone she least expected to see.

Her eyes widened. Spencer?

He was here. He was really here, right in the flesh, making it harder for her to breathe. Because he looked worlds apart from the last time she saw him—his shirt dirty, bruises marking his face, clear signs of whatever ordeal he'd been through. It also seemed like he hadn't slept for days. His eyes appeared hollow and vacant, yet as they met hers, she noticed a glimmer of relief.

Tears welled up in her eyes. All she wanted was to run into his arms, find comfort in his embrace, and let out the tears for everything that had gone wrong. But she couldn't do anything when she was bound with chains while his hands were tied behind his back. And as glad as she was to see him, it registered her to why he was even here. Anger suddenly flared through her body as she leveled her gaze on Eric with a glare.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He pushed Spencer forward, forcing him to stumble, landing him on his knees. "A little present for you," Eric taunted. "Aren't you glad to see him?"

Spencer looked at her with concern, his eyes slowly assessing every inch of body. His stomach churned when he took in how fragile she looked. She seemed so weak, so helpless, being held captive with those repulsive chains binding her wrist.

“Are you…” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “Are you okay?”

It was a dumb question. Of course she was far from being fine. But he had to say it, he needed to interact with her to make sure she understood how much it pained to see her like this.

But before she could respond to him, Eric noticed the interaction and pulled out a knife. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched him circle Spencer, the glint of the blade caught in the dim light, sending a chill through the air.

The cold steel of the knife traced sinister patterns in the air, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the dangerous dance. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice shaking but defiant. "Let him go. This has nothing to do with him."

Eric chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, but it does. He's hurt you, and I need to do something about it."

"Eric, please," she pleaded. "You don't need to do this."

He ignored her pleas and narrowed his eyes on Spencer. "What do you think, Dr. Reid? Should I let you go? Let you free while I'm left alone with her, doing anything that I please." Spencer glared at him and Eric's smile grew wider. "That's what I thought."

He started pacing between them again, casually playing with the knife in his hands. "You know, I usually kill my victims before I write anything on their bodies, but tonight I'm making an exception." His eyes glazed over to her. "I think it'll be fun to do the other way around."

The ominous threat hung heavy in the air, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Spencer's eyes flashed with defiance, though his bound hands limited his ability to physically intervene. She locked eyes with him. They both knew the odds were stacked against them.

“You don't have to do this,” she begged once more, desperation lacing her voice.

"But I do Sweetheart, I really do." He focused his attention back on Spencer. "Now, what do you reckon I should choose for you, Dr. Reid?"

Eric continued to circle, a predator reveling in the vulnerability of his prey. "What do you think of Proverbs 11:21?” He spread his hands out as if he was imagining the words were written in the sky. “'Be sure of this: The wicked will not go unpunished, but those who are righteous will go free'."

When he was met with silence, he approached Spencer with a menacing glint in his eye. "No? How about Proverbs 21:15 then? 'When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous but terror to evildoers.'"

Spencer finally looked up and retorted, "Justice isn't about inflicting pain for the sake of satisfaction."

Eric glared back with a sadistic resolve. "The only way to cleanse the evil here is through suffering. Proverbs speaks the truth, whether you like it or not."

At that moment, Spencer's mind suddenly shifted gears, deciding to try a different approach. His narrowed eyes showed he was honing in, not just reacting but strategizing. He was about to do what he did best—understand people, especially those on the brink. Instead of just reacting to the danger, he aimed to get inside Eric's head. He wanted to observe Eric with an intensity that went beyond the immediate threat.

"You're a smart man, Eric,” he started, his tone measured and analytical. “I can see that you've been through a lot, maybe more than most. I don't think this is about justice anymore.”

He noticed Eric stopping from his casual pace around the narrowed space, and Spencer continued. “It seems like you want to reverse the roles. To be the one inflicting pain instead of receiving it."

Eric, though still wearing a facade of defiance, couldn't completely mask the flicker of unease that danced in his eyes. Spencer's words seemed to hit a nerve.

"What do you even know about my past?" He retorted, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his voice.

Spencer, maintaining his calm and analytical demeanor, continued his probing. "I don't need to know the specifics to recognize the signs. People who inflict pain are often trying to regain control over a part of their lives where they feel helpless."

Eric's grip on the knife tightened, his jaw clenching. "You're making assumptions, Dr. Reid. You don't know anything about what I've been through.”

Spencer met his gaze evenly. "I actually do, Eric," He paused, letting the words linger in the air. "Or should I call you Henry?"

The name hung in the air, a heavy silence enveloping the barn. Y/n’s eyes darted between the two men, her confusion mirrored in the furrow of her brow. Henry? His real name was Henry?

"Henry Wyatt," Spencer continued. "Troubled childhood, juvenile records. You changed your name and tried to leave the past behind."

There was a moment of silence as if Eric was weighing his next words. "I no longer associate with that name," he finally insisted, the defiance in his voice trying to mask the vulnerability that lingered beneath the surface.

"I don't think so,” Spencer remarked. “You're still him despite having a different life now. Your current action shows how you're still bound by the past."

Eric vehemently shook his head. "No."

"Your attempt to leave it behind is what brought us here."

"No," Eric shot back, frustration lacing his voice. “You’re wrong.”

"Your sense of betrayal is the root of your actions," He pressed. "Are you deeply hurt by Oliver that you seek revenge this far?"

A growl rumbled in Eric's throat, the grip on the knife tightening. "You have no right to bring that up," he spat out.

"I do, because I want you to realize that your need for revenge is a sign of weakness," Spencer continued with a calculated intensity, his words aimed at striking a nerve. "Not strength."

Eric shot a fierce glare at Spencer as his frustration reached a crescendo. "You know nothing about me. Don't pretend to understand."

"I do understand that inflicting pain won't change anything." His words hung in the air, a challenge that dared Eric to confront the truth.

The subtle tremors of Eric's clenched fists betrayed the storm within him. The knife, once held with purpose, now seemed almost precarious in his grip. Spencer's next move was strategic, pressing on despite the mounting tension. "Romans 12:21—Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

Eric's anger boiled over. "Stop talking."

But Spencer saw an opening and seized it. "Hurting others won't bring you the closure you seek."

"I said," Eric snarled, his patience wearing thin. "Stop. Talking."

"Ask yourself, Henry," Spencer goaded, deliberately emphasizing the name. "Is this really about justice, or is it about masking the pain you refuse to confront?"

"Fucking shut up!"

Eric's outburst reverberated through the barn as he grabbed onto the only source of lighting, an old lamp sitting on a nearby crate. He smashed it onto the floor towards Spencer, the crash of the lamp echoing like a gunshot.

Fragments of glass sprayed across the floor, some landing dangerously close to his knees as the room dimmed further, the broken lamp's feeble glow casting eerie shadows on the walls.

"You thought you could defy me?" Eric seethed, his voice low and menacing, closing the gap between them. "You're fucking wrong."

With a sudden, swift motion, Eric brought the knife dangerously close to Spencer's face. Y/n’s mind raced. She couldn't let Spencer get hurt. She had to do something, anything, to protect him.

"S-Stop!" she stammered, trying to intervene. The chains rattled as she tried to move. But Eric kept going, and she tried again with a desperate plea.

“Eric! Look at me! Please!” She begged. “I-I'll do anything!"

There was a slight halt in his steps. "What?" Eric paused.

"What are you doing?" Spencer's voice filled the air. 

She glanced over to him, prepared to see the panic in his eyes. But despite the concern in his voice, he responded to her gaze with a silent plea, as if urging her to keep going.

He was onto something; she was sure of it, even if she wasn't sure of whatever plan he had in mind. She could tell by the slight shift in his demeanor before he quickly looked away. She sent him an understanding nod and redirected her attention to Eric, who was slowly turning toward her, oblivious of their interaction.

"I-I'll do anything you want," she repeated her words. 

A sinister smile played on Eric's lips. "Really? Anything?" he taunted, a cruel glint in his eyes as he considered her offer.

"Yes, just—please, let him go.”

Eric's gaze shifted between her and Spencer, contemplating the power he held at that moment. "You'll do anything to save him?"

Her nod was hesitant but determined. 

Eric's eyes gleamed with a malicious delight as he absorbed her desperation. "Anything, you say? That's quite a tempting offer."

"Just tell me what you want," she pressed, her voice quivering. "I'll do it, but you let him go. He doesn't need to be a part of this."

A wicked grin etched itself on his face. "Oh, it's not that simple, Sweetheart. You see, actions speak louder than words. I need a demonstration of your commitment."

Her mind raced, searching for a way to navigate through the situation. "Tell me what you want me to do," she pleaded, her eyes pleading for mercy.

He bent down and picked a shard of glass from the broken lamp scattered on the floor before throwing it to her feet.

"First, you're going to have to convince me that you're willing to endure pain for his sake." Eric gestured toward Spencer with the knife. "Hurt yourself, and maybe, maybe, I'll consider releasing him."

A chill ran down her spine as she comprehended his twisted demand. She shot a quick glance at Spencer. He met her eyes with a subtle nod, indicating that he was ready to seize the opportunity when it presented itself.

As Eric watched her, a maniacal excitement burning in his eyes, she knew she had to play along, at least for now. With trembling hands, she reached for the shard of glass, but she hesitated for a moment.

"Come on," Eric urged, the sadistic anticipation evident in his voice. "Prove your devotion."

Summoning every ounce of courage, she finally pressed the glass against her palm, wincing as it broke the skin. A suppressed gasp escaped her lips, but she fought to maintain a facade of resolve. 

"Now, that's dedication," Eric mused, enjoying the spectacle of her distress. "But we're not done yet. I want more."

She fought back the nausea, the pain in her skin throbbing with each heartbeat. With a deep breath, she tightened her grip on the glass shard, her hands trembling as she looked up at Eric.

"What more do you want?" she demanded, desperation still present in her voice.

His eyes glinted with sadistic pleasure. "Cut deeper. Prove to me that you're willing to sacrifice for him."

Spencer's eyes widened in silent horror, but she shot him a reassuring glance. The shard pressed against her skin once again, but this time, she hesitated. The internal struggle was evident on her face.

"Do it!" Eric barked, reveling in his perceived triumph.

With a swift motion, she sliced the glass across her skin again, the pain intensifying. A muffled cry escaped her lips as she felt warmth seeping through her fingers. 

"That's more like it," Eric praised, his eyes gleaming with madness. "Now, drop the glass."

She complied, releasing the shard to the floor with a gasp, her eyes never leaving Eric's. The room felt heavy with tension as he considered his next move.

"Now tell me you regret nothing, that you'd do it all over again for him," Eric demanded, the twisted satisfaction evident in his tone.

In a desperate attempt to stall him and buy time, she played into his game. "I regret nothing," she forced the words out, her voice steady despite the pain and fear. "I'd do anything for him."

Eric's triumphant grin faltered for a moment as if he expected her to break. But then, a cruel glint returned to his eyes. "Well, well, well. Seems like we have a devoted lover here.” A chuckle followed through. “But the night is still young."

A chilling silence took place as Eric continued to stare at her, his eyes traveling the line of blood dripping down her skin. His gaze traveled upwards to her shaking body before it settled on her pleading gaze. A sinister smile took hold of his face and she shivered at the sight.

"You know," he began, taking a step forward. "You look rather tempting covered in blood."

Her skin crawled at his words, and she fought to maintain a façade of compliance. The barn seemed to shrink around her as Eric advanced, his eyes fixated on her like a predator closing in on its prey. 

"Look at you, all frightened and desperate." Eric continued, walking closer to her. "I'd say you're quite adorable now."

Every step he took sent a chill down her spine. Eric's sinister smile widened as he reveled in her discomfort. "You thought you could outsmart me, didn't you?" he sneered. "But here we are, and you're at my mercy."

In response, she swallowed her fear and shot back, "Your twisted games won't break me. I-I won't let you win."

His laughter echoed through the barn, a haunting sound that seemed to reverberate within the walls. "Oh, I'm afraid you've already lost, Sweetheart."

Her stomach dropped when she saw him unbuckling his belt with his free hand, the sound of its clinking metal echoed through the suffocating silence. Fear gripped her as Eric's intentions became painfully clear. She struggled against her restraints, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. "Y-You promised to let him go," she pleaded, her voice shaking.

"I said I'll consider releasing him," he corrected her. "And right now I'm considering giving him a show."

She felt a wave of nausea and revulsion. Fear clutched at her chest, threatening to overwhelm her. Every inch of her body ached, both from the physical torment and the psychological torture. The chains that bound her seemed tighter, cutting into her wrists.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He taunted. "You'd let me use you while he watches how good I can make you feel."

He unzipped his pants.

“How you’d be screaming my name,” he grinned. “Secretly begging for more.”

His looming figure cast a shadow over her, his attention remained fixated on her. He was too focused on her that he didn't notice Spencer's stealthy movement behind him, and just as she braced herself for the worst, the unexpected happened.

"What do you think, Spencer? Let me—"

A sudden shot echoed in the room. The deafening sound rang through the barn, causing a momentary freeze in the air. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating in shock, as she watched a dark stain spread across Eric's shirt before he crumpled to the ground.

The gunshot rang in her ears and she blinked her eyes, trying to focus her attention on her surroundings. Then Spencer took over her line of sight, sitting on the floor with one leg stretched out. The time she had bid managed to help him escape from his restraints. 

Her gaze then shifted to the subtle holster snug in his sock, revealing the hidden firearm he was carrying all along. Her eyes met his, his expression a blend of exhaustion and concern, and a heavy breath escaped him as he slowly lowered the gun.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. The weight of the situation hung in the air, and she couldn't find words to express the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. The fear, the desperation, the relief—they were all tangled together. It was like a tornado had torn through, leaving her standing in the aftermath.

Spencer moved on instinct. Without saying a word, he stumbled towards her, sinking right on the mattress as he reached for her face. His hands were warm against her cold cheeks, and his eyes held a depth of regret as she stared into them. 

"I'm sorry," was the first thing he said as he held her gaze. When the first cry escaped her lips, a raw and unfiltered release of the pent-up anguish, he pulled her into his arms without hesitation. Her wails echoed in the hollow space of the barn as he held her close and continued to utter his apology like a desperate prayer.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he choked, his voice sounding strained. "I'm so sorry."

Her sobs vibrated against his chest. She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, her blood staining the material. The scent of hay and the earthy musk of the barn intertwined with the warmth of his presence.

"S-Spence.." she murmured, her voice a mere whisper.

"Shh, I've got you." Spencer continued to cradle her, his lips pressed gently against the top of her head. His fingers traced soothing circles on her back. "It's over. I'm right here."

Between her cries, she managed to nod, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. And maybe it did. She wasn't sure she could function properly without his presence. So she focused solely on him—the rise and fall of his chest, the soft beating of his heart against her cheek. She shut out everything around her, not even bothering to ask how the authorities knew their location when she heard a faint siren coming from the distance.

The sound of people entering the barn didn't even faze her moments later. Or the way someone came up to them, insisting the two for a medical check. Instead, she shook her head and tightened her grip, and Spencer reassured the medics they’d come to them in a while.

Time seemed to stop at that moment as she pressed herself further into his arms. The world outside could wait, but for now, all that mattered was him.

>> NEXT PART

a/n: his escape scene is kind of a nod to that truth and dare episode, idk i felt like putting it into the plot :D

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[darlingshane]

Something Crazy

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: On Natalie's wedding day, life takes an unexpected turn when you learn that your former crush, Michael, might be interested in you.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, P in V, Vanilla, Alcohol, Eating, Fluff, Crack, Pet Names, Kissing, Dancing.

Word Count: 4,6k

— You can read below or at AO3.

Today is the big day for your best friend Natalie. She's marrying her long-time boyfriend, Pete, and you've come back to Chicago for only two days to celebrate this lifetime milestone with them.

They've picked a perfect Saturday in the middle of spring to celebrate their union. Flowers are in full bloom, gardens are lush green, wind has calmed, welcoming a balmy weather to allow having a wedding ceremony outdoors.

Bright Sun rays slip like gold ribbons through the sheer fabric of the curtains as you carefully hang Natalie's gown and remove the garment bag. It's a simple but stunning empire dress, strapless, with lace and pearls adorning the corset. Though you've never fantasized about your own wedding before, as your hand slides softly along the skirt, you can't help but imagine yourself as a giddy bride, wearing that same dress.

Tying the knot is not on top of your list right now. Settling with someone? That's more likely to happen. But there's nothing like being chosen as the maid of honor, especially if you're single, to find yourself trapped in that Disney daydream of getting to meet your prince charming and live happily ever after. Hopefully, that unwelcome, sudden longing will vanish after a few drinks at the reception. Until then, your top priority is making sure your best friend's special day is as magical as she planned.

You're in the designated dressing room of the hotel with the rest of the bride's party laughing, sipping rosé, telling stories while the beautician works against the clock, getting all four of you primped and ready.

While you help Natalie get into her dress, Gigi comes back with a tray of pastries to soak the alcohol before anyone gets too drunk.

“You guys gotta see Mikey. He's so fucking hot I could die. I've never seen him all dressed up and clean like that,” she announces loudly, going around the room like a whirling handing croissants and muffins. “I swear to god his pants are so tight, it’s like looking into an x-ray photograph… you can see everything. And I mean everything,” Gigi stares at you, raising an eyebrow, while you stuff part of a croissant into your mouth.

“Ew, that's my brother,” Natalie frowns in disgust.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you say after swallowing part of your pastry.

“She's looking at you like that because, as we all recall, it was you who had a crush on him for the longest time,” the bride sharply indicates.

“She's got a point, babe.”

“I was like fifteen,” your tone pitches a little higher, as if you were still that age. “Why do you always have to bring that up?”

“Cause let's be honest, you were hung up on him for way longer than you said, and your face still lights up every time you see him. Why can't you just admit you're still love-struck?”

You open your mouth to counter her accusation, but words refuse to come out. You can't even lie for dear life cause admittedly, as fucking annoying as they are, they're also right. Michael was one of those crushes that was hard to shake off. Your friends quickly jumped from one infatuation to another, but you pinned for Sugar's cooler, slightly older brother for longer than you should have. And that's probably the reason every time all your friends get together, they use that embarrassing piece of information to tease you. Even if you ever wanted to forget, they'll never let you.

The last time you saw Michael in person was a few weeks ago for only a few minutes when you came to help Natalie with the last details of the wedding and barely exchanged a couple of words. You moved to Detroit for work three years ago, and the few times you've come back here, you haven't crossed paths with him that often. The soon-to-be married couple also forgo the rehearsal dinner altogether to save money, so you didn't get a chance to see him before the ceremony.

“All I'm saying is if you wanna take a stab at that, this is the perfect time. He's single, he has great hair, he's wearing a dope suit, and did I mention hot?” Gigi keeps cajoling. “Hell, I'll hit that, If you don't. So better act fast.”

“He always had great hair,” Samira agrees, downing the rest of her wine.

“And he asked about you the other day when I showed him the pics of our trip,” Sugar adds.

“Oh,” you try not to sound too pleased, cause you doubt he ever paid any attention to you. Why would he start now?

“Yeah, he was definitely checking you out, and loved that video of you at the karaoke bar,” Samira chimes in as she pours another glass.

“Okay, you're making that up. No more wine for you, missy,” you promptly snatch the bottle from your friend and put it away while they all laugh. “Wait… he saw the video of me singing?”

“Uh-hm.”

You file that information for later and once you are all dressed up, you hand Natalie a stunning bouquet of roses before leaving the room.

“Thanks,” she grabs your arm for a second as Gigi and Samira head out. “Sorry for making fun of you… again. You know we love you and that we just want the best for you.”

“I know,” you mumble timidly.

“Sweetie, you don't need my permission, but if you wanted to ask Michael out, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. He'd be lucky to have someone like you.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because… You've always been like a sister to me, and part of me wanted him to see how amazing you are, so I kept telling him about you. I showed him photos and videos, hoping that he would. And he did! He really loved that one of you vibing to TLC. Thought you were funny.”

“You told him, didn't you?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“I'd stab you if you weren't about to get married,” your serious tone makes her snort.

“Look, you’re not dating anyone. He’s not dating anyone… I could ask him if he's interested before Gigi swipes him up.”

“Nat,” you sigh into a heavy pause, looking into her clear blue eyes. “We’re not in school anymore, you don’t have to play matchmaker. And it's your day! The last thing on my mind is hooking up with someone. Let alone your brother. So drop it.”

“Just saying. It could really be a wedding present for me if you two were to…” you scowl at her, which makes her leave that thought unfinished.

“Okay, that's gross, let’s get you married, so I can kill you right after.”

“Alright, alright. I promise I won’t mention it again.”

In your lavender dress and matching heels, you wait for your cue as the wedding starts. The quartet starts playing. Once the officiant and the groom are in position, groomsmen, and bridesmaids walk down the aisle in pairs. You line up with the bridesmaids by the floral arch on the side of the bride in the lush garden and watch as Natalie walks down the aisle, escorted by both brothers, Carmen and Michael.

She looks radiant, but your stare darts slightly to your former crush. He’s dressed in a dark suit and royal blue shirt, no tie. His fluffy hair pushed back, shining under the sun like black licorice. His features are sharply defined as usual, but there's definitely a certain glow around him that makes him look more handsome than you remember.

Credit where credit's due, Gigi was right. They all were. He still manages to stir those intense feelings and butterflies in your stomach that you thought gone when your eyes meet for a split second as they get closer to the altar. There's also a glimpse of a smile in his lips, directed at you. Or so it looks like. Maybe you're making it up in the chaotic mess that is your mind.

Carmy and Michael kiss either side of Natalie's face when they reach the altar, and then they take their seats on the first row as she stands face to face with Pete.

The quartet stops playing, the officiant starts speaking, and you aim your focus to the ceremony.

Once Natalie and Pete are pronounced husband and wife, there's a time dedicated to take a few pictures of the wedding party in that very same garden before losing the natural light.

Despite promising she was going to let it go, your now-married friend insists on making sure you and Michael end up in several pictures together.

“Mmm… Marcus, is it?” you shake hands with him, pretending to have forgotten his name.

“Michael,” his grip is firm around your hand.

“Oh, sorry, Mario. I have a terrible memory.”

“Don't be cute. I know you remember,” he scoffs, amused, linking one arm around your waist per the photographer's instructions.

You swallow, nervously placing your hand on his firm back, trying to keep your cool. As the photographer takes a series of snapshots, Michael starts humming a familiar song. No scrubs. The one you sang in that famous video your friends filmed.

You press your lips together, and pretend you're not hearing it. It seems like they've all been scheming together against you, or in your favor. You're not sure. You know Sugar wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, but this is getting ridiculous.

“Save me a dance later, would you?” he requests with a wink once the photoshoot session is over.

“I can't, Mitchell. I've already promised that to one of the groomsmen,” lie.

“You're gonna keep that bit the rest of the day?”

You shrug your shoulders, “it's not up to me, Marley.”

“Alright, come find me when you grow up.”

He presses his lips in a tight smile and walks away, leaving you dwelling in that awkwardness that washes over you, and wondering if he's messing with you or if he's suddenly into you. Those are good questions that you can't leave unanswered. If there's a chance that Michael Berzatto likes you, and that's a big IF, you really need to find out. The ball is in your court now. The question is… Do you want to throw it back?

The party moves to the banquet room in the hotel. There's plenty of food, drinks, music, and people in the room, but none of it can't distract you from the presence of Michael. This isn't how you expected to spend the day of your friend's wedding. And it's really going to bother you if you don't at least try to have a nice conversation with him. This is probably your last chance, so right after your heartfelt toast, you wipe your tears, throw back some liquid courage to walk up to his table.

He's nursing a glass of scotch, watching people on the dance floor, when you quietly take the empty chair besides him.

“No Richie today?” you break the ice.

“Oh, you remember his name but not mine?”

“Get over yourself, Michael. You know, I always got a little awkward when I was nervous. And unfortunately, it still happens.”

“Think you're doing pretty good right now.”

“Had a little help,” you tilt your glass in his direction.

“Well, I'm glad you decided to join me,” he nods and points at the bar where Richie is conversing animatedly with your friend Gigi. “I had to convince Sugar to invite him. Hope he behaves for my sake.”

“Oh no, you're a dead man. Nothing good is gonna come out of that.”

“How so?”

“They're both insane, divorced and desperate. That's a dangerous cocktail nobody wants to drink,” you point out.

“Yeah, you're right. I guess I didn't really think it through.”

“You're screwed, Berzatto,” you take a sip of your glass and turn your eyes from the bar to Michael. “You know I was just joshing earlier, right? It surprised me that you were so… Direct.”

“Men aren't usually direct with you?”

“No, I guess I haven’t been very lucky in that department… Or maybe I’m just a bitch with unreachable standards that scares away any potential suitors.”

“That would explain a lot.”

“Gee, thanks!”

“I’m kidding. I’m sure your standards are reasonable. And I don’t think you’re a bitch if that helps.”

“Yet you’re wondering why I came here alone?”

“Not really. I didn't bring a date, either.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“I dunno. Maybe I have really high standards, too,” he winks casually at you, knocking you out of your game.

You should have come prepared for this, but you never thought in a million years that Michael Berzatto would ever show any interest in you.

Still trying to figure out if you're picking up the right signals from him, you prop your elbows on the table and let out a sigh as he presses the rim of his glass to his mouth to take a swig.

You bite your lip and watch the guests swaying animatedly on the dance floor.

“So. Do you wanna dance?” he softly taps one of your arms.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Did your sister put you up to this?”

“Why would she?”

“Don't play dumb. I used to have the biggest crush on you, and if you didn't notice, I'm sure your Sugar has told you.”

His lips draw a lopsided smile. “She might have mentioned something a while ago, but she didn't put me up to this, I swear. This is all me. I only asked you for a dance. I didn't ask you to marry me.”

“I suppose a dance wouldn’t be that bad.”

“I'll take that,” he throws back the rest of his drink in one gulp, stands up, offering his hand up to you, “shall we?”

You were hoping to have some more time to prepare, but his sharp conviction is something you can’t reject. That’s part of Michael Berzatto’s appeal. He’s always been such a bold and outgoing guy, it's daunting. It’s good to see that hasn’t changed at all. The only thing that’s different is that now he’s wasting his charms on you.

With some apprehension, you follow his steps into the dance floor. There’s a mid-tempo song playing that you don’t recognize that makes you forget altogether how to move your body. So you just stand there, three feet away from him, like a deer caught in headlights, bobbing your head, avoiding his eyes.

Michael stares at you, slightly entertained by how uncomfortable you look right now, and throws you a lifeline by stepping closer, picking up your hands and placing them on his shoulders.

“What are you so afraid of, sweetheart?” he asks, planting his palms on your waist, guiding you slowly to move with him.

“I'm afraid that I'm not a very good dancer.”

“I doubt that.”

“Wait till I step on you,” you subconsciously look down at your feet.

“Follow my lead. You'll be fine.”

“Okay, Johnny Castle, but don't make me mambo, salsa, waltz… Or anything that requires taking my feet off the ground.”

“Who the hell is Johnny Castle?”

“Patrick Swayze? Dirty Dancing?” you question, as if it was the most outrageous thing that he hadn’t heard about that film.

“I’m more of a Road House kinda guy.” Of course, he is. “Was that another crush of yours?”

“Oh, big time!”

“Ok, got it, nothing fancy, we're just swaying. See?” His hands guide your body to move side to side, but it's impossible not to feel a little clumsy in your steps.

“Hey, what do you think of Pete?” He asks, using his head to point at the newly-weds.

“Uhh,” you glance to the side to see Pete wrapping an arm around Natalie, “he can be a total douche sometimes, but he's always sweet to her. I guess that's what matters. Why? What do you think about him?”

“Words out of my mouth.”

“Michael?” You glance up to his deep dark eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Be honest, why did you want to dance with me?”

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Your lips pull up on the sides as your head nods.

“Cause I wanted to dance with the prettiest girl I've ever met.”

If this is a dream, you don't wanna wake up to find out that this was just a concoction of your mind. It's not. It feels real. If you weren't holding onto him, you'd fall to your knees after hearing his words roll past his beautiful lips.

There are so many questions you wanna ask, but you can only sigh, and smile wider under the sweet glow of his brown eyes fixed on you.

“You really think that I’m that pretty or interesting?” your mouth opens after a pregnant pause, at the same time the song switches to something incredibly romantic.

“I've always thought that. It just took me a while to realize it.”

“God, you have the perfect answer to everything. That's really annoying.”

“I don't. I swear. You just caught me in a good mood.”

“I don't remember you ever being in a bad mood.”

“I have my moments. Trust me.”

He unexpectedly picks one of your hands from his shoulder, lifts it in the air to have you spinning ungracefully under his elbow before quickly wrapping his opposite arm around your waist to dip you. He grins at the shocked expression on your face for a second before bringing your body upright.

“Please, don't do that again,” you brace your hands to his chest right after.

“Why? That was perfect, sweetheart,” he laughs, “Johnny Castle would be proud.”

Your lips curl softly, letting your palms tentatively slide on his blazer until they're caught on the warm surface of his neck.

“Am I making you nervous?” he dares to ask, knowing pretty much that he's driving you crazy.

“A little,” a lot, actually.

He whispers, – sorry – as you run your fingers at the hair at his nape. You observe up close how he licks his lips, noticing his hands clutching harder to your waist. His head leans closer, and you draw a breath, preparing yourself for having his lips colliding against yours. It feels like the world stops spinning for a second and just about when he's about to kiss you something, someone in this case, crashes against your back making you lose your balance. Michael anchors you to the floor quickly before you can fall, as a slurred-drunk voice apologizes at your back.

“Fucking idiot,” Michael mutters and checks on you, “you okay, sweetheart?”

You're not. The spell is broken, and your dress suddenly feels cold and wet from the drink that was spilled along your hip.

You excuse yourself, and rush out of the dance floor, so you can clean yourself up.

There’s a big surprise in the nearest bathroom you find, and that is your friend Gigi making out with Richie with such passion, they don't even notice you opening and quickly closing the door.

The tiny glimpse that you caught of Richie propping your friend on the sink and sliding his hands under her skirt makes your jaw almost fall to the floor. You wish you could erase that from your memory immediately, but at least it has made you forget momentarily about your dress.

When you turn around, you’re faced with Michael again. You ran out so fast you didn’t notice him following behind.

“What’s wrong?”

“Richie and Gigi,” smacking your lips, you point with your thumb to the door with no further explanation.

“Wow, they didn’t waste any time.”

“That's the thing about weddings. They make people do crazy things.”

“Tell me about it,” Michael looks down for a beat, licks his lips, and steps closer.

He holds your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up. As he leans to capture your mouth, you flinch, “what are you doing?”

“Something crazy,” the corners of his mouth quirk up, making another move, and you jerk your face a second time in reflex. It’s not that you don't wanna kiss him, you absolutely do. You just need another moment to process it.

“Damn, girl. Can you just stay still, so I can kiss you already?” He demands without an ounce of entitlement. Just driven by the desire to taste your lips.

“Alright, okay… just give me a second,” you yield to his craving, letting him slowly guide you, so your back is pressed against the wall.

There’s no escape now, this is the moment you’ve dreamed with many moons ago that seemed like a pipe dream back then. All those thoughts vanish the moment his lips are pressed against yours firmly, before letting them bounce a couple of times together. His alcohol-tainted breath mixes with yours as his lips part wider. He captures your lower lip with a light suck, followed by the tip of his tongue shamelessly drawing the curve of your mouth. It's deliciously sexy and sweet and everything in between. You close your eyes and follow his lead, opening your mouth and letting him slot his lips against yours. His tongue invades past your teeth without resistance. It challenges you to kiss him back. It takes you a moment to respond, but soon enough, you're fully immersed in the depth of his mouth, taking the reins of the kiss.

You haven't been kissed like this in a while. Maybe ever.

When your mouths separate, you realize your hands are anchored to his back, and he's fully pressed against you. His lips are covered in your saliva and vice versa.

“I'm going to change my dress,” you sigh, giving him a little push, so you can put yourself together.

“Oh… Okay,” there's a hint of disappointment in his tone.

You clear your throat and harness an ounce of confidence to ask, “do you wanna come? I might need some help. The zipper is a little tricky in this thing.”

Right.

His expression turns on a dime, eyes wide open, white edge teeth showing behind his slightly parted lips. Speechless by the implication of your proposal, he cleans his lips on his palm before responding, “I… sure.”

Proud of yourself for taking a gamble and hitting the jackpot, you go back inside the banquet hall first to collect your purse from the table and then head up to the elevators with him following closely behind.

A palm lands at the small of your back while you press the button. The anticipation makes your stomach flutter wilder than ever. Who would have thought you'd be taking Michael to your room on this day? It feels surreal. Absolutely bananas.

You don't say a word during the elevator ride up to the fourth floor.

When you reach your door, you notice his palms framing your hips from behind. His touch makes your pulse tremble while using the key card. It takes you a couple of tries to open the door.

There's a strange force, an electricity buzzing, that grows more powerful the second you're inside.

You hit the light switch, drop your purse on the chair and turn to face him.

Following that unstoppable whim, you place your palms on his chest and push back his blazer. He shrugs it off as you move to undo the few buttons he's fastened. Your fingers tremor anxiously as you uncover his defined torso. You want to stick out your tongue and trace those two lines forming a V oh his abdomen that leads to the outline of his cock behind the tight fabric of his dress slacks. It’s too bold of a move for you right now, so you let your fingers do your bidding.

When your hands reach his belt, they proceed to unbuckle it under the lust-filled shadow of that flame of his gaze that could scorch the surface of the earth if he wanted to in a second.

He’s already half hard when you unzip his fly, and that's as far as he allows you to go. Michael's dying to touch you, to undress you and fuck you. He quickly turns you around, making you gasp, and finds the zipper of your dress. Your skin rises into goosebumps when he pulls the tab down. He nibbles at the crook of your neck, pushing the top of your dress down to your waist. You shimmy your legs out of it as his hands invite themselves to your skin.

His all hands and mouth around you as he removes your strapless bra and guides you to lay down on the bed.

The fire that lights up his eyes sears through yours as he slips out of his unbuttoned shirt. He then props a knee on the bed, hovering over you, and lowers his head to kiss your stomach. His tongue darts out and draws a circle around your navel. Your head falls back on the mattress, as he leaves a trail of wet kisses up your torso. He nibbles once more at your neck, increasing your arousal up to eleven.

“Michael, please,” you groan as he presses himself between your legs, grinding slowly behind layers of fabric, coaxing your juices to stain your underwear and growing himself a hard-rock erection that can barely be held by his boxers.

Lifting lifts his head, he props himself on his elbows, and surveys the tortured expression on your face as his hips keep relentlessly moving.

“Fuck, you're goddamn gorgeous, baby,” he exhales, proceeding to swiftly rid you off your panties, and pushing his pants and underwear down.

He drives his hardness inside you with great care, pushing inch after inch of that monumental erection that stretches your slicked walls. You close your eyes as he experiments with his thrusting, molding your opening to its generous size.

“Is this how you imagined this?” he pants against the corner of your mouth.

“No. This is better… Much, much better,” you purr, palming his ass, encouraging him to move faster.

If you had a free hand, you'd pinch yourself to check if this is really happening right now. It still blows your mind thinking that Michael Berzatto is deeply buried inside you, wanting you, claiming every cell of your body for his enjoyment. You gladly surrender to his desires as the cadence of his hips drive you into madness. As much as you try to contain your moans, he does everything in his hand to force every moan, curse, and breath to fly out past your teeth.

He slams into you with passion, bites your skin, grips your tits, devours your mouth, setting every inch ablaze. It’s as mind-blowing as it is fast, but he earns himself a good squeeze of your walls when he brings you to orgasm. He comes undone just merely a second after, releasing a wild grunt that ripples all over your skin, and pouring all his warm seed into the depths of your pussy, having his hips jerking erratically until he’s spilled every drop.

His cum sticks to your walls as he rolls to the side of the mattress with a grunt. Your head is spinning out of its usual axis, overtaken by that powerful boost of endorphins, and your lungs struggle for a deep breath.

For a long minute, you both stare at the ceiling while you regain your breath.

When he composes himself, he turns to the side to look at you, sweetly letting one of his fingers brush your cheek, “do you wanna do this again tomorrow?”

“Can't. I'm leaving, remember?”

“Right.”

“But you can stay the night if you want. And repeat later. And maybe one more time even later. Would you like that?”

“I'd love to, sweetheart.”

[silent-stories]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟓

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie finds a note in his locker and doesn't know that someone has a plan to destroy his relationship with you.

Warnings: mention of drugs

Part 4

"Thanks for staying Friday night and helping me with all that stuff, really." You said as you sat next to Eddie on a bench at the back of the school.

It was a quite hidden place, but not to hide but just to not be disturbed and have a more intimate moment, with just the two of you.

The sun was shining that morning and you noticed that when Eddie's pale skin was kissed by the rays of its light you could see many small freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

They were almost invisible, you yourself had never noticed them before but they were there.

And you liked them.

You found yourself wondering if they were more visible in summer, if they were also on the skin hidden by his clothes, if they covered his back and what it would be like to trace imaginary lines with your fingers to connect them.

"Don't worry, I did it with pleasure." He smiled as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and your gaze immediately fell on the bats tattooed on his arm.

"Thanks for asking me to come." He added after a few moments, his words little more than a low whisper, an almost shy edge to his voice.

"Thanks for asking me to come?" You repeated his words bewildered, perhaps a little too melodramatic. "You absolutely saved my night, which would have been boring and lonely without you."

He chuckled. "Then I think we're even."

"Yeah, I guess we are."

Eddie pulled a metal lighter and a pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket.

"Do you mind if I smoke?"

"Go ahead." You reassured him before he lit a cigarette, before bringing it to his lips.

"Anyway, Bones has been sitting all weekend where you were, on my bed. I think she misses you, you know? She probably likes you more than me."

"That means I'll have to go back to your house sooner or later." He laughed. "Just for Bones, of course."

"Oh sure. I know she'd like to have another movie night with you soon or just, I don't know, listen to music and talk about the meaning of life at 3 in the morning. Maybe without half school at my house."

Eddie looked at you with a doubtful expression. Was he really still wondering what you were trying to say?

"Yes Eddie, I'm inviting you to my house." You laughed shaking your head. "Friday or Saturday night, maybe? What do you think?"

Eddie stared at you with his big dark eyes, almost hesitant, and for a moment you thought he was saying he didn't want to come, but then a huge grin appeared on his lips before he covered it with his hand, bringing the cigarette to his mouth.

But you saw it, you never missed it when he smiled. You always liked to see him happy.

"Yeah. Yeah, I would like to."

You smiled. "Good."

"Good." He repeated blowing some smoke out of his mouth, the ghost of a smile still on it.

"So, did you seem them?" Jason asked as he sat across from Aaron at the noisy high school cafeteria table.

"Who?" Asked the other before stuffing half a sausage into his mouth.

"Y/N and the freak. At the party. I was dead drunk but I remember them. Holding hands." He added the last part with a grimace, to express his disgust.

"Gross. Don't remind me." Aaron commented, his eyes wandering around the cafeteria, finding Eddie at the usual table eating in the company of his friends

All losers, just like him.

Aaron spent hours spreading the word about the party, getting all those people over to your house to spend time with you, and when the party finally started you were stayed on the couch the entire time until he came and you completely disappeared, with him.

He ruined everything, as always.

Jason had explained who Eddie Munson was, Aaron knew everything about him: he was a drug dealer, he was part of a satanic cult and listened to some kind of music praising his demonic activities, he was poor, he lived in a smelly trailer, just like him, he no longer had his parents. They probably didn't want someone like him around them either.

Maybe he didn't know everything, but it was all he needed to know that Eddie "the freak" Munson wasn't a good person and he didn't even want to see him around you.

Atound the girl he'd wanted from the first moment he'd seen her.

When he had seen him arrive at the party he had thought that someone had played a joke on him and had invited him, he thought maybe it was you.

And you really had invited him, but it wasn't a joke and when Aaron saw you holding hands he nearly spat out his drink.

You were friends. And he found that disgusting.

"Someone told me they stayed in her room all night. You think they fucked?" Jason asked.

"Okay, stop it!" Aaron blurted out. "I don't know what they did but I have a plan."

The girl he had a crush on since he moved to that shitty town couldn't end up with a sucker like Eddie.

"A plan for what?" Jason raised his eyebrows.

"To push them away, whatever they have going on, I don't like it. And then Y/N will be mine."

Aaron was like Jason, they both wanted what they wanted when they wanted and they thought they were the best at everything they did.

The only difference was that Jason acted without thinking and wasn't as smart as he thought he was, but Aaron could calculate, manipulate people and be convincing.

And that was what made him more dangerous.

Eddie opened his locker and immediately a note fell to the floor.

Before picking it up he looked around suspiciously, it wouldn't be the first time someone slipped some notes with insults written on them into his locker.

Instead, when he took it in his hands and opened it, above it he read:

"The bench in the woods, Today, 4am"

Eddie knew what it was right away, or at least he thought he knew, at the time: someone wanted to buy drugs after school and the woods were the perfect place, away from other people and far enough from school.

That afternoon, Eddie waited for about half an hour sitting on that bench, his old lunchbox filled with various narcotic substances next to him.

When he had lost hope of anyone showing up, a voice made him turn around.

"You can put that stuff away, I'm not here for that." Aaron walked up to the bench with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, casually.

"Then why are you here?" Eddie asked, getting defensive.

He didn't like Aaron. He didn't like the way he looked at you like you were a piece of meat, and the way she looked at him, like he was garbage. He didn't like his fake laugh and mean smile.

"To talk about Y/N." Aaron sat across from Eddie, his green eyes colder than usual as they scanned Eddie. "I wanted to ask you not to sell drugs to her, you know I care about her and I don't want her... to end up in a bad circle."

"She, um- I never sold her anything."

"Oh, you didn't? Well, she told me she'll soon ask you to sell her some of...your stuff." He uttered the last word with disgust.

"I'm not sure she uses that kind of stuff." Eddie couldn't figure out where Aaron was trying to get at. "I'm not sure she smoke at all."

"Of course she does! She got close to you because she wanted to buy from you, and she thought that if you became friends a little, maybe you would give her a discount." He said, as if it were a matter of course that you would never approach someone like Eddie except for having something in return.

Eddie felt a weird sensation in the pit of his stomach. It couldn't be true.

You didn't start talking to him just because you wanted to buy drugs from him.

You weren't the only person who sat next to him in class because you wanted to buy drugs from him.

You hadn't spent all night watching movies with him while there was a party at your own house because you wanted to buy drugs from him.

You weren't the only person at school other than the Hellfire kids and the guys in his band who didn't treat him like a complete waste of space, showing him your kindness and affection every time you were with him, just because you wanted to buy drugs from him.

Right?

When Eddie had realized he was in love with you, months and months before, he thought he had no chance with you, that you didn't even know his name.

He thought the amazing girl Dustin always talked about would never even stop in the hallway to talk to him for fear that someone at school would see her with the "freak".

Over time though, after he started getting to know you and consequently falling for you even more: you had a good heart.

Eddie thought he'd always remember the day you brought to his trailer some notes he said he needed for his math test.

He was in the shower when you'd arrived, and you'd chatted with Wayne like you were friends for about twenty minutes before Eddie had came out of the bathroom with his hair still damp and with no t-shirt on.

He'd found you sitting on the couch next to his uncle, you were both laughing and Eddie had just leant against the door jamb with his shoulder, enjoying the scene with a smile on his lips, thinking "that's my fucking family".

You simply were something else.

And lately he almost thought that maybe he could become more than a friend to you, but perhaps he was wrong.

Aaron left throwing one last look at Eddie, halfway between a recommendation and a threat.

He closed the lunchbox filled with drugs, moving the fingers of one hand to the other, playing nervously with his rings, thinking that the only thing that could stop it at that moment was your hand in his.

Eddie stayed on that bench, alone, for an indefinite time while his mind continued to travel without him being able to stop it.

Aaron must have lied.

Right?

Part 6

Thanks to everyone who is still reading this story <3

Who's ready for a bit of Wayne in the next part?

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

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[mockstarling]

Au where the Waynes have to make a reality TV show because people get too close to finding out who they are. Everyone develops their public persona as follows.

Brucie Wayne:

Wears makeup all the time.

Really clumsy but has a quick reaction time regarding when his kids are about to fight. Yes, he can sense it from the other side of the house.

Mama bear, will panic if someone gets as much as a papercut.

Always wears dark colors because if he wears anything else he always manages to get them dirty somehow.

Will sing to pop songs, gets all the lyrics wrong except the chorus.

Glitter. He always wears at least one thing that is glittery at all times. He also uses a glittery bat-themed pencil pouch in his office (cass got it for him as a joke).

Kathy Kane:

A gay aunt icon.

Fashionable but in a classy way/simple enough to still fight if needed.

Will physically attack one of Bruce's kids to "prepare them for if they get kidnapped".

Damian's favorite, he will go ask her for permission first instead of Bruce. She typically allows him before looking at the camera like 'this is about to be good'.

Is one of the best at giving advice.

Will not hesitate to argue with Bruce's friends (the Justice League in their civilian personas) with the passion of a kid who wants ice cream.

Dick Grayson:

Nice older brother type/has answered to "mom" on screen multiple times before.

Knows all Disney songs by heart and will start singing them as his brothers fight.

The one who posts the most on social media and believes they're "in with the kids".

Is in college but tries his best to make time with his family.

Recites vines with passion as he burns everything in th kitchen.

Always wears "rich people clothing that compliments his best features".

Jason Todd:

Was announced alive before the show started so he's been here since season one and may or may not be the reason that they had to start the show in the first place because people were like, "oh, he could be Red Hood. . . wait".

He's normally the one who starts shit/drama on the show.

He has some of the best comebacks out of his brothers. And yes, most of them are along the lines of, "I died, bitch! I'll kill us both and drag you to hell myself! They love me there, unlike some people!"

Claims he doesn't remember what happened those years he was "dead" and says that he still have bad memory problems to get out of doing stuff because he "forgot".

Plays into the bad boy/street kid stereotypes.

Tends to yell a lot/doesn't have an inside voice for shit.

Tim Drake:

Tired heir to the Wayne family business.

Gets physically thrown around by his brothers (mainly Jason) the most.

Is intelligent but tends to mess up on the simplest things.

Always has coffee on him and when he doesn't he is either going to fight someone or pull a prank.

Is always working on "school" (cases).

Tends to wear more normal clothing because it's most comfortable but he has been know to fall asleep in full on suits before.

Stephanie Brown:

Sings the most out of everyone.

Will never hesitate to tip off one of the Waynes about another one if food is involved.

Is always trying new clothing styles and has rearrange their room the most.

Is the type to try something because they saw it on social media.

Is a ray of sun shine when compared to everyone else.

Is the best at jokes.

Cassandra Cain:

Communicates by sign language when she gets too frustrated/overwhelmed.

Dances the best out of anyone so no one ever challenges her.

Is a silent threat when it comes to pranks.

Has been caught mid-heist (when trying to sneak food from the kitchen) by the crew.

Has successfully stolen the most of Bruce's stuff.

Is the most common one to get tea first because everyone in the family likes her enough to rant about the others.

Duke Thomas:

Will not hesitate to pick cass's side in any argument.

Started a war between the Wayne Brothers without them putting together that he started it until that season was out.

The one who always make sure everyone eats.

Has pulled the most pranks on Bruce's friends (the Justice League's cilvilian personas) because they mistakenly took him out to be the most collected out of the bats.

The one who has the best insider information when shit goes down.

No one knows for sure if he's a Wayne but he has a room in the manor and is always there so people just assume Bruce took in another one.

Damian Wayne:

Took it upon himself to look the best out of all his siblings so he spend days researching on social media outfit ideas and how to do makeup because he's "better than everyone else".

Has showed an interests in fighting with weapons, the arts, and history.

Was very quickly assigned the "furry baby dad" title from fans because of the amount of pets he has.

Is still an angry baby but the family has found that he actually explains his side of stuff to the camera really well.

Experiences the most character development throughout the show as it takes place during his teenage years.

Has been caught uses "baby voice" when interacting with his pets.

[twig-tea]

Only Friend Finale Reaction

I want to write this down now because I suspect my feelings on this will change over time. In this moment, immediately post-finale, I am satisfied. I feel happy. I am glad this show got made, and that I watched it.

Only Friends was billed as the messy gays show. I went in expecting something close to Friend Zone but with more gays, and that's what we got. Not a Warped Effect with explicit morals and lessons about sex, consent, sexualities, kinks, etc., not a GayOK Bangkok which is grounded in realism.

And because this was Jojo and Ninew and Den and Best, it's still more realistically queer than any GMMTV BL to date, and there were some absolutely stellar moments that stand alone as moving, and powerful, and beautiful, and genre-changing. And so near the beginning of the show airing, I raised my expectations; maybe this show was going to do more.

But was clear by the penultimate episode that it wasn't. I wrestled a lot on here with my need for this show to be the one that finally broke up the mixed pair expectations, and let sluts be sluts, and finally showed a threesome, and maybe even gave us consensual non-monogamy. It didn't go that far in any of those realms, but it took a step closer on many of them, and considering where BL has been to date that's still pretty huge for GMMTV, and I don't want to lose sight of that or judge it for what I wanted it to be instead of what it ultimately was.

The other thing I wrestled with a lot in this show was what other people were seeing in it, and my frustration that people were taking away moral lessons that the show wasn't giving. I think I was successful in that I watched this finale with satisfaction for what I was getting, even though I know a lot of people won't see what I saw (and btw I'm not even claiming that what I saw was what the creators intended! I am not claiming superiority here, just bias lol). So I watched this finale deciding to take what I wanted from it, rather than what I thought it was actually trying to say, and for that reason I enjoyed the hell out of it.

So. Here are my takeaways from the Only Friends finale:

We got a three-way kiss, even if it didn't lead to a threesome, after teasing us all series that was still satisfying and we got it as part of a branded pair in a GMMTV show. It was fun, and messy, and I loved it. I appreciate that it was also...maybe necessary is too far lol but it was actually in service to the plot--we all knew Sand still had feelings for Boeing, or else he would not have still been so mad at Top that he was willing to use Nick and Ray to get his revenge. Not every emotional loose end needs to be resolved with kissing, but it was kind of fun that they tried (and I also really appreciated that it didn't work lol).

I loved that Mew and Ray talking as friends got them to compare notes on and eventually team up to take down Boeing. Their friendship really is the backbone of this series, and I'm glad it survived everything. Mew is so relieved to have someone else taking care of Ray because he never wanted that role and wasn't good at it, but he does care about his friend's happiness and is more than happy to step in when there's drama. I appreciate that he made really clear to Sand that his feelings for Ray are platonic, in the bar, that's the first time I've really seen him be truly supportive of Ray, and it was nice to see.

The Mew and Top scenes were fascinating. I think this is where I'm going to differ from the bulk of the audience and I've made peace with that. I do not find stories like theirs romantic--where both partners need to be in control and play games to stay in control the whole time--so for me, the fact that these power struggles were still present in all of their scenes satisfied my desire to see them stay together, happy but on edge. So. That scene with Mew and Top in which Mew agrees to live with Top but then asks him to apologize to Sand right afterwards; I read that as pretty manipulative on Mew's part, and Top's uncomfortable face at the end means that he felt it too. Maybe I wasn't supposed to read it that way, but that's why it worked for me. The ring, too, "now or never", it's not a promise of forever, it's a promise of the present [such a strong ephemerality statement]. The conversation in the bath in which they outline their needs and identify that they have contrasting needs, and say "I'll work on it / we'll deal with it when it comes" is exactly what I was expecting of this relationship. They're not perfect for each other, and they're going to continue to push one another. Right now they're agreeing to try, without a guarantee that it will work. Talking about their needs is good, but we don't actually see them trying, so it didn't hit as romantic as it would otherwise for me either. And Mew daring Sand to kiss Top in order to get them to be chill was such a Mew power move I loved it. He asked Top to apologize to Sand, and then forced them to be in close proximity before getting confirmation that Top was ready. Top apologizing to Sand in that last second before they kissed was him clinging for power while Sand was hovering over him, and it was a perfect Top volley. Constant power struggle, that's how I read these two. Mew teasing Top with whether or not he's slept with anyone else was so interesting considering their history around that--I was probably supposed to see it as growth in their relationship that they can joke about it? Or maybe they were trying to undo some of the sexual morality nonsense that made its way into this show by pointing out that actually it doesn't matter if Mew had been with anyone before? But what I saw was Mew still struggling to have a power foothold over Top now that he's moved in. I will admit the fire scene, at first, I was so confused by. Were we supposed to be moved by Top getting past his trauma? What was that scene even about? I think, in the context of Mew's struggle with his place in Top's life, and his power in this relationship, it was about Mew understanding the invisible support he provides for Top, and why he's important to Top. Mew watched Top be competent and collected in the face of a triggering event, and was impressed at how Top had it all together, but Top credits Mew's presence for that. I think it helped Mew start to actually see a future with Top, because he understands his place in it a bit better. Even if he feels like he's not doing enough, Top sees his presence as strength, so maybe he doesn't need to worry quite so much about keeping score. But that's honestly me reaching, I struggled with that scene and think it was the weakest in the finale [and @lurkingshan I read your post and could believe that your read is true, that it was there to prove Top did have trauma].

Can I tell you how much I love how this show ended, with Mix's character smiling at Mew, and Top's nervous look? Because I think we've wrestled with Mew's confidence in this relationship for the whole show, but it's clear Top still feels unsettled/uncertain in this relationship and I love that we ended with him feeling threatened. This for me was the perfect ending for this couple, and what I've wanted as their ending all along--they're happy right now, they know there are potential bumps on the road in their future, and they're not certain they'll make it through, but they're willing to try--but the threats are real, and present, and not going to be easy because this relationship is not solid.

I also really appreciated what was happening with Boston and Nick, even though I wish it would have been more explicit or done better; what we got was still better than I expected from a GMMTV show. I loved Boston dissuading Nick from following him, and finding the romantic asks to be too many/too much, and having a different definition of "boyfriend" (but not different enough to not like to Nick's face about where you were, Boston, I see you). I love that Nick didn't get mad at Boston for "cheating", understood what Boston was offering for what it was; I also really loved Sand's advice to Nick that just because what's on offer is laid out honestly and fairly, that that means he has to accept it if it's not what he wants. I didn't love Boston trying to backtrack when Nick decided not to take him up on it; but I did love Nick's response, telling Boston to own who he is rather than trying to be someone he's not.

I think this is where my attempts the last couple of weeks to let go of what people will take from this show has helped, because yeah, you can see this as the narrative punishing Boston for being a slut, but this has never been a morality play, and so I'm taking from it how I see it. And I see it as Boston getting a clean slate with a bit more perspective going to New York. What I would say to Boston if he were my friend: This friend group was a mess and they always judged Boston for his sex life more than was deserved; they also violated his privacy by passing around his sex audio and never apologized for it. Boston also didn't take their feelings into consideration when he decided who to have sex with, and he messed with their relationships which was not being a good friend either. Does he actually want them back, or is he just feeling lonely? My hope for him is that he takes what he's learned about other people's feelings--that not everyone sees the world he does, and he has to understand that people will be hurt by different things whether or not they would hurt him, if he wants to retain relationships of any kind including friendships, and decide whether or not they're worth making concessions for before hurting them so that he doesn't lose people he doesn't want to--and finds folks who fit better with his worldview and morals, and then is better able to keep them in his life. But also these people are hypocrites, and he should not take their opinion as a statement of fact about his worth. He didn't do anything worse to them than they did to him or each other.

I know a lot of people are going to see this storyline as a punish the slut story. I was wrestling with this two episodes ago, maybe that's why I'm willing to be chill about this now. I was hoping we'd get Boston as a reason to discuss consensual non-monogamy in a GMMTV show, but I am actually ok with Nick saying listen, I need to be honest about what I want and it's not that, and Boston you shouldn't be trying to give me what I want because that's not going to make you happy either. Boston being alone isn't a sad ending; to me it's the ending he was expecting and aiming for this whole time. The only difference is he's surprised by how he feels about it now that he's in it, and he's panicking a bit. Boston was not just a slut, he was a slut who didn't care about who he hurt; it's that latter piece that he's wrestling with in this finale, and I love that Nick told him he didn't have to stop being a slut to stop being an asshole. Honestly, he'll get to New York and be fine, I really think so. And I took the Nick/Boston goodbye conversation as Nick saying "I love you as you are, a slut, and it's ok to be that. Go be a happy slut!" Do I wish he'd said that more explicitly so that people would understand that? Yes. But I've given up on that.

Cheum not going with the group to the fireworks was so interesting in the context of our conversations about Cheum over the past couple of days. I took this to be the show acknowledging explicitly that she's not actually a part of the core friend group; she schemes to keep the group together (unsuccessfully), and we don't ever get a sense of why she cares so much about that--maybe it's guilt for helping push out Boston for something he didn't do, maybe she needs the security of the group she's got, we never get that insight and I'm still a bit sad about that. But she's not there for the big fireworks finale, so we're at least clear that the show never intended her to be a Main Character. And I was so happy we got her saying her plan worked in the pool. Maybe that still won't be enough to convince the audience that she's an unreliable narrator, but it was satisfying for me! Also loved her unwrapping the photo from Boston and the group's uncomfortable reaction to it. Maybe Chuem's going to keep pushing that they reconcile; maybe she's just delusional about how well her plan worked. Either way, the tension was fun. I didn't get the full resolution of her character that I wanted, but the show nodding explicitly to the fact that she keeps herself apart from the main group so I shouldn't expect it was helpful to me getting over that. And we got a kiss! And another tiny insight into their relationship; again not enough to go on, but i did think it really interesting that the two things we know about April and Cheum are: April appreciates Cheum's positive energy, and April has asked Cheum to be more honest and not just positive for the sake of being positive (about her films). So I'm reading this as that these two are just as messy and as likely to continue to have problems as the rest of the group.

Ending in Sand and Ray because I think this is the least ambiguous; I appreciated that Sand started doing what Sand always does and saying "yeah I"ll sacrifice all of my sources of income for you no problem" (WHAT) and Ray waiting until they're alone again to say "actually that's ridiculous don't do that". I appreciated that Sand's new year plans were all about Ray because he hasn't had anything push him into actually being more selfish, and the resolution with Boeing was done for him so he didn't have to set boundaries after all (called that one), so he's had zero character growth, actually. I appreciate that Ray pushes him to try to be a little selfish, that's the best sign that Ray is finally actually caring about Sand's needs, and that their relationship might work, that I've seen the whole series. I'm taking it with a massive grain of salt, because the plan is for Ray to constantly expose himself to alcohol and partying. I think this is set up to be just as tenuous as the Mew/Top relationship, but it reads a bit more lovey-dovey because they're in a less problematic place at the moment (where they have just resolved one of their insecurities so they're more confident in one another--but it's not clear how long that will last, especially with the threat of Sand's self-sacrifice and Ray's fierce boundary-violating in the face of any threat looming in the background unresolved). Sand expressing his uncertainty around his role in the Hostel was also perfect, because he is an outsider in this project and doesn't have a role, and it's a perfect point for tension in the future between them.

Even the way Yo warns the group of friends in the very last scene that they're going to have to be better to one another and less dramatic in the future if they want this hostel to last felt ominous to me rather than preachy; have this group learned enough to make this business work? That definitely remains to be seen.

Nobody should be watching Only Friends with the idea that it's going to give them any kind of lesson about what to do; at best it's a list of what not to do's lol. None of these characters are perfect, they're all incredibly flawed, and young. So their choices, including whether or not to stay together, whether or not to stay friends, whether or not to stay in business, should not be read as a moral judgment by the showrunners. I definitely agree that this could have been more effective as a message if folks weren't happy at the end. But I've given up on it needing to be effective for everyone; they stayed in character to me, and it was effective for me.

I recognized so much of my friends and my youth in this series, and I am so grateful to have gotten to see that portrayed in a show that felt like a rollercoaster while I was watching it; I literally screamed aloud, I cheered, I laughed, I applauded. This show had characters casually snort coke, hook up, flirt with their exes, kiss their friends, make mistakes, forgive one another heinous shit, be mean, kiss outside their branded pairs, and in some cases let one another go.

There are a LOT of ways this show could have been better. It was close, so close in some cases, to being amazing, and it's fallen short in a lot of ways. It could have been a subversive and compelling narrative about slut shaming and the toxicity of fandom branded pairs. Instead, it was just a show about flawed people being flawed. But I had fun, and I'm not taking away from this show that any of these characters were in the right, or that sluts are bad, or need to change--whether it was the intended message, I've given up on that because I legitimately can't tell and if it is the message, I don't want to know. I don't think it overromanticized these flawed characters, but I can see how folks could see it that way. I'm choosing to remember that these characters have all been flawed and shown to be flawed throughout the show, and notice the ways in which they are still flawed, and the hints that things will stay messy. Maybe this is a bit like those experiments in which they found the way people in incarceration watch Die Hard very differently from how other people do or how it was intended LOL maybe I'm working too hard to justify what was just bad writing and gross moral judgments and toxic relationships being portrayed as romantic. But it didn't land that way for me, so I'm going to celebrate that and enjoy the feelings this show gave me.

[c0smoshit]

Guilt ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ Familiar faces with not so pretty words appear in Cloud's dream

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ angst!!, fluff too, traumatised Cloud, HUGE FF7 SPOILERS, Not proofread!!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ This fic contains really big spoilers from the original game that haven't appeared yet on the remake!!!

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 4.705

Aerith

Wait

"Why didn't you save me Cloud?"

What?

"You tried to kill me"

It was Sephiroth not me... What is going on?

"You left me to die there, don't you remember?"

Suddenly the voice that took all the space in that weird unlighted room came into vision. She was backwards, her long hazel braid adorned with a cute pink ribbon on top and that characteristic red jacket beyond a long dress... It was really her.

Did I die and went into a purgatory for what I had done? Am I in some sort of limbo?

No it can't be. I saw her die in front of me, this is just some stupid dream...

"I miss you Cloud"

...Right?

Her face was soft and full of live, her green orbs overshadowing the rest of her features. She looked so... real

He stayed silent as the girl approached him slowly, smiling sweetly as her dress followed her steps graciously. He kept thinking about that day, the day she let go of him, cradled in his arms as her lifeless body sank itself into the water, returning to the lifestream.

Something felt odd, her face wasn't as lively as he remembered it to be. Her face was like a ray of sun, always emanating energy and happiness to her surroundings. Now her face felt empty, altough she was smiling, it was like there wasn't any true emotion behind her factions.

"Why did you let me go?"

She kept talking, and with every word that fell from her mouth he felt himself growing deeper and deeper into sorrow.

Of course I remember her, I miss her too and I'm was very aware that I had tried to kill her on top of that translucent glass.

It wasn't him, he had done everything that he could to stop himself from slicing her in half. But no matter how hard he repeated to himself that it wasn't his fault, there was always this agravating voice inside of his head that blamed him. He still felt like it was his fault, he should've been stronger, he should've been a SOLDIER.

A hand touched his shoulder, making him tense up, there was someone else here too. His eyes fell first to the recognizable black gloves and he didn't have to turn around to be sure he'd be met with dark spiky hair.

Why couldn't I be like him?

That question often flooded his mind, ever since he was just a kid who just wanted to pursue a dream. Life could've been easier if he had just became a SOLDIER, deep down he thought that if he was stronger maybe you'd like him more.

"I thought you were strong"

A huskier voice spoke now, much stronger than the one that spoke earlier. The hand had such a powerfull hold on his shoulder Cloud pictured himself being buried into the ground just by the force of it. And he wished it was his strength instead.

"You could've protected her, protected me"

I know, I fucking know.

"Aerith will no longer talk, no longer laugh, cry... or get angry..."

He remembers himself saying that in front of that self-centered son of a bitch. Many times had he crossed his path and promised everyone that he'd kill him, but instead he was just being controlled by him. Forcing him into doing things he didn't want to, give him things he wouldn't let slip out of his grasp.

He felt grief, he felt embarrassed but on top of those feeling he felt lost.

He was already a grown up and he didn't even know his true self, everything about his life seemed... fake.

Like someone was just piloting him and he was on the passenger seat.

He also felt weak.

An adjective he had learnt to totally despise over the years.

He couldn't enter into SOLDIER because he wasn't strong enough, he couldn't save Tifa from that fall because he wasn't fast enough, he couldn't save Aerith from Sephiroth because well... he wasn't good enough.

When he was just a child he thought Tifa's friends were childish and weak, that he wouldn't be like them, that he wasn't like them.

But turns out... maybe he was the weak and childish one.

He then felt himself being dragged into the void, everything went dark around him. A pitch-black blanket covered him tightly, or what he thought it was.

Zack and Aerith were now gone, he was floating alone.

His limbs were numb, his eyes were closed for an instant before they were opened again. A familiar sandy path appeared right in front of him, an old truck resting on the side of it. He then saw the tall metalic structure, something he had crossed multiple times when he was younger. Houses adorned the little village in an almost perfect circle, red roofs and white bricks.

His younger him walked in front of him, steps full of energy and youth. He felt somewhat jealous of him, he had so many dreams and fantasies he pursued. Little could expect that boy to happen in reality.

The little boy ran before he could grab him, vanishing from his vision as another person came into it instead. Altough he was backwards, anyone could know who he was. Long white hair and dark clothes, eyes full of rage and power as he tilted his head to see Cloud.

Soon the houses were light with red and orange flames, the air becoming dense and har to breathe through the ashes and the imminent warmth.

"What about MY saddness!?"

He also pictured himself shouting that to Sephiroth, words full of rage and saddness. The man he trusted the most, the man who he thought was so strong and, just someone who he could follow his steps. He was now laughing at him, speaking to him as if he was rubbish, some sort of puppet.

He was tired of him, tired of seeing him everywhere. He remembers his confusion that day, his anger and his saddness. He thought that wasn't the real Sephiroth, that this was just some sort of joke.

He hated him, he wanted him dead right in front of him but he hated himself more. He hated that he probably wasn't going to be strong enough to even touch him.

He was just a traumatised kid.

Then you appeared, trapped bellow a wooden board. You had the most frightened eyes he had ever seen, you were sweating, screaming and begging for him to save you.

"Cloud!"

He tried to run to were you were, to shout that you were going to be okay, that he was going to rescue you and take you back home without any scratch.

"Please..."

When he saw you going limp on that board his heart clenched. Not again, god, he would sell his soul to the devil just to save you. He couldn't see you like that, not when he could save you.

"Hang on!"

He shouted to you as he began lifting the rusty board from you, helping you out from the fire. Your body fell and he managed to catch you, you were hot, really hot. This wasn't good.

"It's alright"

He tried to reassure you, he knew he wasn't the best with words but he tried. Why couldn't he be like one of those cool heroes who managed to save everyone and always have such good words to say?

You didn't open your pretty eyes, your breathing was getting calmer and weaker. He held you tightly to his body as he felt the warmth of the fire enveloping both of you.

He couldn't do this anymore, first Zack then Aerith and now you.

He couldn't lose you, you were his last hope on this tragic planet. You two had been through hell and back together, you couldn't die that easily right?

"Please answer me"

He shook you lightly, patting your cheek as he tried to wake you up. But none of that worked, you felt heavier on top of him... lifeless.

He felt himself tearing up, not you. He needed you, you couldn't just be gone that easily. He held you tightly to his body as he let himself cry into your shoulder.

Your smell was mixed with the smoke, your relaxed muscles sprawled on top of him as a little tear shed from your eye. He was devastated. The girl that had helped him through everything, who offered him a shoulder to cry on whenever he needed it, who lended him a warm bed and fresh food with such a sweet smile. She was now dead on top of him and it was all his fault.

"Come on"

A wave of guilt washed over him, he still hasn't thanked you enough for all the shit you had done for him. All the sleepless nights you had spent taking care of him and his stupid wounds.

His arms lifted you in bridal style, just like he did with Aerith. No, this time it could be different, it had to.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he could've found that view cute if you weren't fucking dying on his arms. He hated this, the scorching fire enveloping both of you as he tried to find somewhere to go. His head spinned and ached, he needed to get you somewhere safer.

But the more he ran and ran, the more blurry his surroundings became. His legs were burning, his lungs too, but he needed to save you.

And then... darkness again, his skin was no longer sweaty thanks to the burning flames.

You were still on his arms with your eyes closed and no signs of breathing. He quickly hugged you close to his body, begging you to wake up to just talk to him, open your gorgerous eyes for him to see just one more time.

But you didn't, instead you felt... lighter, as if your soul was slowly leaving your body. He could still smell the soapy shampoo you used that lingered on your hair, a smell that always brought comfort to him.

It wasn't fair, he was tired

Tired of seeing everyone die right in front of him, the time he had spent with them and the bonds he had created with them now becoming just memories. And he couldn't do anything about it, he should've done something sooner.

He often wondered why was he alive, why not him, why did poor souls of innocent friends had to die and not him.

"Cloud"

He quickly shoved his head off your shoulder, eyes trying to focus on your own ones. But you were still asleep on his arms, what? It was your voice who said his name, why didn't you wake up?

His mako eyes flicked up and looked into the void, there was nobody there, it was just... darkness.

"Cloud"

Your voice called him again and it echoed though his ears, where were you? Well, first off were was he?

Your words were laced with sleppiness, coming out a bit groggy and husky. You were calling him but your lips didn't move when you talked.

He felt someone shake his shoulder but when he tried to look at whoever who was touching him he saw emptiness. The shaking became harsher, but it didn't feel like someone strong was shaking him. It was more like if someone wanted to wake him up, it reminded him of his mother and how she woke him up with gentle shakes. But a kiss wasn't placed on his cheek or forehead so he was pretty sure it wasn't her.

An anguish pain struck his forehead, his skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat as he sat on top of a mattress. The room was dark except for the dim moonlight that entered through the window, blocking the chilly air.

His hands fisted the mattress hard, knuckles white before his eyes locked with yours. Thank god you were safe and without any burn scars or serious wounds. Your hair was messy and your eyes were practically forcing themselves to remain open.

He then noticed your hand holding your reddened forehead, it looked like someone had punched you right in the middle of it.

"Are you alright?"

You muttered a quiet "oww" before his own forehead began to hurt again. That was when he realised what could've happened and boy did he felt bad.

He suddenly remembered where he was and what was happening, you two were resting in an inn as Tifa had decided that it was the best idea before the night reached your path. Both of you shared a pretty nice room, your bed a few inches appart from his, divided by a cute wooden bedside table.

He remembers your excited and happy face when you first saw the bedroom, an emotion he couldn't understant. I mean... It was just a bedroom. But that was something that he absolutely adored about you.

He didn't know why or how but you always managed to make him feel the way you did. Wherever he saw a normal room you saw a cozy cute room that was absolutely perfect to rest in after a long day. Whenever he saw a cloudy and boring day you saw the opportunity to go out and let the rain wash over your body, running and smiling around.

"Are you alright?"

His breathing was still uneaven, the sour taste of seeing you lifeless on his arms still lingered on his tongue. He nodded quite quickly at your question, still disorientated.

"You were making weird noises in your sleep and then... And then you started moving around"

He listened carefully to what you were saying but his eyes finally took in your state. You were sitting besides him on his bed, your puffy eyes and your messed up nightgown showed that you had probably just woken up.

"I tried to wake you up and when I did you sat up so abruptly that our foreheads smashed into each other"

So that was the reason of his weird headache, touching it as he saw you mimick his actions. He was incredibly sorry, he shouldn't have woken you up in the first place and when you tried to help him get out of that horrific nightmare he just hurt you.

He kept apologising to you, telling you how sorry he was for waking you up like this. But you only smiled at him, shuffling closer to him and telling him that it wasn't a big deal.

"I just had a bad dream, that's- that's all"

His words were followed by an evident sad tone, keeping to himself the actual nightmare he had just seen.

But when he tried to explain to you that it was nothing he was met with two warm arms surrounding his middle part. His hands stayed akwardly on the sheets, letting you hug him before he gently returned the hug.

He didn't know he wanted your hug but he needed it. You felt so warm and nice just like a blanket wrapped around him in a winter night. He never wanted to let go of you, god since when had he gotten so emotional?

A flash of images about the earlier dream he had passed through his eyes and he had to force himself not to hug you tighter to his body, just to feel that you were real. To ensure that you were there with him alive and breathing.

But you were the one that hugged him tighter, pressing your chest against his as you laid your head on his shoulder your mouth just bellow his ear. His mouth was slightly open and his cheeks grew hotter, clearly not used to this closiness with someone.

But he pushed those thoughts away, akwardly placing his hands around your waist. He was so glad you were here with him, so glad that it all was a bad dream.

He hated hugs, he hated when people invaded his personal space, but having someone that gave you a warm hug after an almost traumatic experience felt just right. You actually cared about what he had to say or what he wanted to do, you were there when he needed you.

He felt stupid for all the times you offered him a hug and he ,arrogantly, declined them. This felt like heaven.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Your sweet and soothing voice ringed through his ears in such a perfect way he would have melted on spot. He didn't know what was happening to him but he just was so emotional with you. Maybe it was because he didn't really have anyone to calm him down after a bad dream.

He stayed silent for a few seconds, he couldn't lie to you but he didn't want to open up to someone about his feelings too. He was taught that feelings were for weaklings, thst he didn't need them. He felt stupid for having them but he couldn't help it, he was just a guy after all.

"Aerith was there"

He started speaking without wanting to, he finally broke that akward barrier with you. He felt your breath hitch for an instant and before you could open your mouth he talked again.

"She was with Zack and they were-"

He cut himself off by clearing his throat a bit, thinking about the words he was going to use.

"They were... blaming me for what happened"

Your eyebrows furrowed and now you cut him off before he could speak again, your head pulling off from his shoulder, eyes facing his neck as you held him close to you.

"It wasn't your fault"

"Don't blame yourself for what happened, you did more than enough"

Your words hit him harder than a brick, he expected you to say something similar but those words actually coming out of your mouth made his heart clench.

"You were there for both of them, you protected them. But sometimes things don't go as you expected"

He didn't know when you had placed your hand on his cheek but he leant against it, his eyes know facing your gorgerous sleepy ones. He had always found you really pretty, he liked the way you smiled and how you laughed at dumb one-liners.

But or course he would never say that to you.

He stared at your face like a lost puppy, listening intently to what you were saying. He could listen to you for hours and he loved doing it whenever you two were together with the rest of the group. He actually sticked closer to you whenever he had the chance, the way you friskily moved your hands or the gestures you'd make. You were so... natural and charming.

"Aerith must be proud of you and so must be Zack, you were by their side the whole time"

Your thumb started stroking his cheek, keeping your movements gentle and steady. He could've fell asleep right there, his hands still rested on your waist and when he noticed he quickly retrieved them.

He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, not when you were helping him so much, holding him on your arms, whispering through the night breeze such reassuring words.

He can't recall the day he felt this safe and good with someone, not even with his own mother. He sure had heard before some motivational words coming out of Barret or Tifa's mouth but your's were deeper than theirs. He needed to hear them, he needed you.

"It's all Sephiroths fault, how could I have trusted him? You almost..."

He opted not to continue, it was probably the best option because he didn't want to talk about your death again, not in front of you. He had already talked too much about his dream.

Your hand trailed itself up to his shoulder, faces close together before your lips moved again.

"We'll take care of him, together"

Your last words were matched with a tender squeeze on his shoulder, bringing him the comfort he didn't know he needed. His eyes rested on yours, inspecting them carefully, taking mental images of them.

"You're a tough guy Cloud, no white haired weird guy could take you down"

He smiled a bit a your description and so did you, offering him a wolfish grin before whispering again.

"His hair sure didn't age well"

He let a little chuckle escape his lips, forgetting for an instant why were you up in the first place. After that silence fell all over the room, the only noise that could be heard was the gentle sway of the leaves and the slight night breeze.

The moonlight hit your face, making it glow in an almost ethereal way and he swore he felt the time freeze. He was so comfortable right now with you by your side, he never wanted this to end.

You both looked into eachother's faces, eyes trailing over the tiniest little features before always returning to both of your eyes. This was prolonged for almost three minutes, both of you just breathing and admiring each other, waiting for someone to do something.

"You should get some rest"

Your voice broke the silence again, but not in a good way as earlier. He saw you depart from him, your warm body left his, he didn't want you to go that quickly.

How much time had passed since you sat down with him?

"No"

A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. He didn't know where this sudden movement came from but he didn't care if it made you stay.

So you silently complied, sitting down with him again and as magnets attract each other, your bodies crashed together again in a warm hug. He couldn't give a damn about the fact that you were practically crushing him above the bed, he was happy to have someone to hold to in these awful nights.

He wasn't usually like this, he did not fucking know were this demeanor came from but he knew that he liked you like this.

Your body rolled itself so it rested by his side, no longer on top of him wrapped like a blanket. Your hands wrapped around his head, holding his face close to your chest while his own hands held your waist tightly, afraid to let go of you. His blonde spiky hair trickled your arms, he looked so cute like this; wrapped tightly against your chest like a little kid, eyes closed and slightly furrowed eyebrows.

"Sleep tight, Cloud"

He loved how his name rolled off your tongue, he could picture your mouth slowly making a little "O" shape when you said his last letters.

You were so good, maybe too good to him and for what? He was just an arrogant quiet guy who only cared for himself (or so is what he thought about himself) He admired you, your strength to lift yourself up when you had fallen to the ground with a heavy "thud! ", how you put other people's feelings or even lives before your own one, how you managed to easily forgive pieces of shit that had caused you or the group a bad time just because you were too emphatic.

And here you were now, holding him like he was made out of glass, he would cry right now. But he didn't, he sticked to just holding you tightly to him, assuring himself that you were there with him. You rubbed his hair gently, carefully massaging his scalp, he felt as if a goddess was massaging his head instead, and it wasn't far away from reality because he really saw you as an angel.

Your little snores made his heart flutter, you had fallen asleep on his arms, your hand no longer caressing his hair. And he quickly followed you, drifting off to Cloud 9 before he could even admire your asleep form.

That night he had the best sleep he'd ever had since months, craddled nicely on your arms as if he was a little kid who had slept on his mommy's bed after a bad dream (that was indeed what had happened). Your limbs were tangled together, your head resting on top of his as the blanket was quickly replaced with your body. He really couldn't thank you enough.

This was the first time he had sleep with someone like this and he surely would do it again. But it wasn't just somebody it was you, you were special.

His mind drifted to images of you, the day he first saw you on a dress Aerith had told you it was made just for you, and it clearly was. That time when you stopped by Costa del Sol and you and the girls played along the sea, barefoot and splashing water at each other. That day back in Midgar when you had found stray cats and quickly petted them, held them in your lap as you rubbed their belly and earnt some purrs.

He didn't know why but he just wanted to keep you to himself, hug you until he died in your arms.

He also loved how your hair smelt, a fresh fruity scent that he was now delighted to enjoy for as long as he wanted to. Your hands and how they worked wonders on him when you gave him a massage or when you treatted his wounds. Your eyes, god they were so gorgerous he could spend the rest of his life staring at them.

But his mind also drifted to your limp state on his arms, was that a future vision? He remembers he had some weird flashes of Aerith's dead when he first was with her. He was deeply worried, he didn't know what his mind or his body were actually capable of and he didn't even wanted to know.

He knew something was wrong with him since he was just a child, he was different to the other kids. Maybe if he acted distant and cool they would play with him or maybe not.

Deep down he knew he only wanted to feel wanted, to feel loved. He had spent his whole life pushing those feelings away, it would only complicate things. But it just felt so good to be held like this, to hear those quiet but deep words. He wanted you, he had loved you since he had met you, you were... god he can't even describe you.

All this Shinra and the world being destroyed was so tiring for him, why did he had to solve everything? He was sick of hearing that name, sick that the only purpose of his life was to stop him, to go after him. But he had started all this, he needed to finish what he had caused.

But on nights like this, he only craved for you, for you to just be there for him, hold him tightly to your body as you told him that nothing would go wrong. To dry his eyes when he fell apart, to massage his hair. He wanted you.

You were there with him, he was glad that this wasn't some shit he had made up inside his head.

Your hands tugging his hair were the reason the woke up, slowly opening his eyes, praying that you'd still be there. And you were, greeting him with the sweetest smile he could have ever seen. Your tired eyes stared down at him, eyebrows slightly furrowing a bit as you woke up too.

This was a sight he wanted to see way more often.

[sxs-kav]

I saw Frozen Empire, so obviously I have to talk about it. Spoilers ahead.

Also disclaimer that these are my personal feelings, so if we disagree that's okay too!

So, overall I would rate the movie as good. Not my all time favorite in the franchise, I think that will always go to the original, but I enjoyed it. The story could have used a little work in some parts, but hey, nothing is perfect.

Favorite part of this whole movie: one Dr. Raymond Stantz, hands down. He is so cute as an old man-child whose enthusiasm hasn't waned the least bit over the years. Honestly, in Afterlife he seemed like he'd become cynical, but here his true nature really rang through. And I adore him being a mentor for Phoebe and the other younger characters, while also getting into mischief with them. That little sparkle in his eye when Phoebe asks "Aren't you retired?" No, Ray is never retired, he will always be ready to suit up.

I also loved in the police station when Phoebe was standing up to Dickless Peck, Ray had this face like he was so proud, like he could see Egon in her, memories of him saying "YOUR MOTHER!" 😆

The other thing I liked about the movie was the expansion of the Ghostbusters as a business, with the research lab. First off, I love that Winston, the one who didn't even believe in ghosts when he was hired, is now almost like the CEO of the company. But also, it opens up more possibilities for this new era and allows for more playing with the world building. Though I feel like it was a wasted opportunity to put in some easter eggs for TRGB. Unless the ghosts featured were in the (*shudder*) Q5 episodes, I didn't recognize any of them from the show. Then again, I guess they're newer ghosts so that wouldn't make sense, but maybe they could have been similar kinds of ghosts. Just as a small reference.

Other favorite parts include:

-The near-lesbian romance between Phoebe and Melody

-Ray smuggling the Mini Pufts from Oklahoma (because of course he would)

-Also just the Mini Pufts in general (why are they so violent?)

-The way Ray's face lit up when Peter came to the firehouse

-Peter being proud that Ray quit smoking

-Peter's unwavering faith that Ray's idea is good and will work, and saying they all trust him

-The library ghost (did they never go back to get her???)

-Gary saying the words to the theme song

-Janine in uniform!

-Slimer eating the pizza with the posesser ghost in it

Now, onto the areas that I felt were not as strong. First of all, I found it wild that Phoebe was being ousted by everyone without any kind of fight. She's the one that started the whole thing up again, she's got the passion, she's got the brains, she's got the glasses and the curls! Her mom says a grand total of NOTHING to defend her in Peck's office, and they all just accept that she can't be a Ghostbuster anymore. Yeah, they don't want to get sued, but it's just weird to me that they don't even seem like they feel that terrible that she got benched. Callie and Trevor are very callous about the whole thing. Only Gary seems like he gives a shit, and he's not even her dad. The way Phoebe's benching ended wasn't all that satisfying either. It would have been nice for the other three to maybe struggle a little without her, realize they need her to balance the team, and try to find a way to get her back. Winston was really the one that got Peck off their backs in the end, no thanks to anyone else (also, I'm pretty sure in that scene, someone in the crowd yells 'dickless' 😆).

Side note, I really don't like Callie's character that much. I think she's self-centered and doesn't seem to care about the kids' feelings unless the situation becomes dire. Maybe she does deep down, but mostly her attitude about everything stinks. Idk, I wouldn't care if she wasn't in the movie at all.

Anyway, back to the plot. I liked the idea of Phoebe's plotline. I wish they'd gone all the way and had her and Melody kiss, I really thought that was coming when she separated from her body. But I have an issue about that particular moment. The decision to suddenly put herself in the chamber like that seemed to come out of nowhere, at least I thought so. They made it like Melody was supposed to be the one tricking her into doing it, but she really never said anything to convince her. Phoebe just decided on her own to try it. I know she mentioned a couple of times wondering what it would feel like to be a ghost, but it wasn't a strong enough buildup to such a risky move. Honestly, when she asked Ray about him wanting to be a ghost, coupled with Winston saying Ray was going to get himself killed, I thought they were foreshadowing killing Ray (and thank God they didn't!).

They also hint at Phoebe specifically being the one that needs to be used but why? Anyone could have been tricked into the chamber and been controlled by Garaka for the chanting.

But moving on from that, the other issue I have is with the firemaster. He was a little too good at controling the fire after what, a couple of hours of practice? I think the character could still work, he could still be a quirky weird guy, but I think I would have made him more of a reluctant inheritor of his grandma's powers. Maybe he struggles with it at first and he figures he can sell the artifacts to Ray to get rid of the responsibility. Then later he can finally accept his fate to help beat Garaka when he starts believing in himself.

Those are the only major parts that I felt could have been tweaked. Besides that, I would have loved to see Slimer and Ray get a moment, just as a nod to their friendship in the show, but I guess they want to stick to one continuity. Of all the things they could have referenced from the show, though, it had to be the Junior GB 😆 It was just a throwaway line, but still, I don't want to remember they were a thing.

Tl;dr, the movie was good and there were a lot of parts I really enjoyed. For the parts that were weak, I'm confident there will be another in the future, so hopefully they'll keep improving.

Also, who the hell voted for Peck to be mayor? I bet he rigged the election.

[hoedamn-eron]

mrs tillich's hot grandson

Your elderly neighbour, Mrs Tillich, is so lovely...as is her grandson.

Warnings: Mentions of dementia in a relative. Elderly relative needing a live-in nurse. Mentions of past military career. Sort of proofread, prone to mistakes. Word count: 1,714 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

What's this!? A one shot!? I'm sorry I've been gone for four weeks, I've been hyper fixating on Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit (it's taken 20+ years but I've finally watched them).

Your neighbour, Mrs Tillich, is a ray of sunshine.

She’s pushing on 100, she has a live-in nurse with her, and loves to be in her garden, which was when she usually caught you to have a chat, over the fence you share, usually when you were leaving for work or coming back. Honestly, you had no problem with speaking to her; as you said, she was everything that was good in this world, and she brightened your day.

You suspected she had some sort of dementia; she’s introduced herself to you multiple times, and repeatedly tells you about her ‘very good looking and single’ grandson.

“He’s a strapping young man,” she’d told you one day, giving you a wink. “He’s in the military, you know?”

You always smiled politely and told her that he sounded very interesting and maybe one day you’ll be introduced, but so far, you hadn’t met the guy.

You hope it’s the gentleman who visits her once a month, who gives you a polite nod if he ever catches your eye if you’re in your driveway. He’s a real silver fox and is always dressed so smartly. He makes your stomach do somersaults whenever his dark eyes meet yours. And God, that jawline.

Today’s forecast was sunshine all around, and you decided that it was the perfect opportunity to give your garden some TLC, and maybe even wash your car. You dress in light clothes, accommodating the hot weather outside and you step out. Your long-abandoned gardening tools were in your garage, and you had some old plant seeds from last year, gifted to you from Mrs Tillich. Hopefully, they would still be okay.

After gathering your things, you settle on your lawn and get work picking out the weeds and giving your garden a general tidy up. You bask in the sunlight, listening to the sounds of birds, and cars passing, and the sounds of the Johnson kids a few doors down, having a water fight from the sounds of it.

You’re so lost in your own world that you don’t realise someone has joined you.

“Hi.”

You jump and look up at the source of the voice.

It was him. The silver fox. He was stood on Mrs Tillich’s side of your adjoining fence, his arms crossed, and Christ, is it normal for a shirt to stretch like that over someone’s arms?

“H…hi,” you stammer before you clear your throat. Pathetic. “Hi.”

His gives you a small grin before he holds his hand out. “I’m William. But I usually go by Bill, you can call me Bill if you want.”

You stand quickly and make your way over. You shake his hand as you introduce yourself. You ignore the way your skin tingles as he shakes your hand.

“Nice to finally meet you,” he said, before crossing his arms again. Defensive guy. “We saw you – me and my grandmother – in your garden, and she told me I should introduce myself. She said you were friendly, and ‘single’. I apologise if she’s been a bit persistent.”

So he is the grandson!

You shake your head at his words, giving him a soft smile. “No, not, she’s…not at all. I enjoy chatting to her, she’s really nice.”

“She can be...” he says before going quiet, giving you a look as if he felt sorry for you, but also trying to placate you. “She’s a bit...you know.” he motions to his head.

“Really, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you say, giving a kind smile. “I don’t mind chatting to her, really.”

William nods at you and you both fall into an awkward silence. You bite the inside of your lip as you study him for a second. What do you talk about? You feel like you know this guy pretty well, thanks to your neighbour, but now he’s in front of you, you can’t think of anything to say.

So you blurt out the first thing that come to your mind that you remember about him. “So you’re in the military?”

He tenses, his jaw setting as he stares at you with a hard look on his face.

“Mrs Tillich mentioned you were...” you say, going quiet at the look on his face. “Never mind, I might have misunderstood - “

“I’m not in the military anymore,” William said quickly. “She gets confused, because...you know...” he motions to his head again.

You stand and chat some more before he says he has to get moving. He was nice; a little quiet and reserved, maybe, but polite. And a little awkward. He stared so intently as you talked, and it gave you butterflies. He tells you it was nice to meet you and he heads back inside the house. He sends you a wave goodbye when he leaves a few hours later.

He visits again sooner than you expect, just a few weeks later. He gives you a small wave with the usual nod this time as he pulls into her driveway. You give him a wave back, but you don’t stop to chat. You don’t know when he leaves.

He comes back again a few weeks after that, but you’re not home. You only know because Mrs Tillich tells you about it the next day. She mentions Bill asked about you, causing your cheeks to warm as you tell her, “That’s nice, I hope he’s doing well.”

She actually giggles at you.

He doesn’t visit again for another few months, which was odd. You couldn’t help but ask Mrs Tillich about it, and she giggles at you again. She explains he’d been busy.

“He travels a lot,” she said, but you’d gathered that yourself. “He still calls me every few days.”

When he does come back, you’re shovelling snow in your driveway. He drives carefully up his grandmother’s driveway before climbing out the car, wearing the warmest – and most expensive – looking grey coat. He gives you the nod and a wave in greeting as he walks towards Mrs Tillich’s house, and you give him a smile and a wave back.

Like the last time you saw him, he doesn’t stop to chat.

You can’t help but feel disappointed, and somewhat put off. Had you made a bad impression last time? You had made that comment about the military, and he didn’t seem too happy about it, maybe it was that? But you were only going off the information given to you.

Whatever, you didn’t know they guy, you shouldn’t feel so sad about it.

You continue to shovel the snow from your driveway, trying not to think about William Tell, but after a while, you’re shocked out of your reverie again.

“Hi.”

Just like in the summer, you jump, and you look at him, where he’s stood behind the fence with a small smirk on his face as he watches you, his hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” you say, stopping to face him.

“Been a while.”

“It has,” you say, giving him a nod.

He swallows, and it was so subtle you would have missed it if you weren’t watching him as intently as you were. Surely, he wasn’t nervous?

“I’d like to apologise,” he said after another moment of silence. “For last time. I’ve been told I can be a little intimidating and it comes off as rude. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

You shake your head at him. “I didn’t think you were rude at all.”

He gives an amused huff through his nose. “You don’t have to spare my feelings - “

“No, really, I thought...it was nice talking to you.”

You go quiet, and you stare at each other again in silence.

You can’t get a read on this guy. You can’t tell if he likes you or not. You’re not even sure if you want him to like you. He’s only your neighbour’s grandson, and sure, he’s good looking and has a nice-looking body from what you could see, but really, he doesn’t seem all that interested in you –

“I may be way off base here, and I apologise now if I’m wrong, but would you like to go out for dinner sometime?”

Oh. Maybe he is interested.

“Yes,” you say instantly, without even thinking.

“What?” he asks, his eyes widening a little, as though he wasn’t expecting you to accept his offer.

“What?” you asked back, eyes just as wide, because had you answered too quickly? Were you being too eager?

“You want to go out for dinner with me?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you say, immediately again.

“Okay,” Bill nods, before giving a small smile. “Okay. Okay, great.”

Your cheeks warm as you smile shyly. “Great,” you breathe.

You stare at each other for a while, and your insides feel all gooey. Then he’s looking at you expectantly, but you’re sure you’re just giving heart eyes to him. “So…can I have your number?”

“What?” you ask, blinking at him before your eyes widen in realisation. “Oh, yeah, yes!”

He hands you his unlocked phone and you place your number into it (you’ll deny your hands were shaking until your dying days). You send yourself a quick text and feel your phone vibrate in your pocket as you hand his phone back to him.

“I’m pretty much free most evenings and weekends,” you say, trying not to sound like too much of a loser.

Bill nodded at you with a smile. “I leave in a few hours, but I’ll be back to visit next week, so…I’ll call you later, we can arrange something?”

You nod. “Yeah, that’ll be great.”

He gives you a nod. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” you say as he turns and walks back into his grandmother’s house, but not before he turns back to look at you and gives you a wave.

You wave back.

You can’t stop smiling. And now your thoughts are filled with the forthcoming phone call about your date next week. What were you going to wear? Where would you go? He isn’t from round here, so maybe you could suggest a really good place. You’ll be cool, you’ll be collected, you’ll not throw yourself at him…you say as you shamelessly think about how much of a filthy kisser he might be…

[sandrayofsun]

Gagged with a capital G - EP. 8

Holy mother of God I don't even know what happened to me when this episode ended. I think I ascended to heaven and back. This is going to be a long post filled with thoughts and feelings (and I have no one else to talk about this to) so buckle up!

Starting off with this first scene... not even 2 mins in and I was already tearing up. This entire conversation was so interesting to me because BOTH of them are fully aware of their feelings, yet neither one is willing to speak up. Ray is "happy" to be with Mew, and Sand is "happy" that Ray finally got who he wanted (supposedly🙁).

Major props to sand for standing his ground during this conversation even though you could see unshed tears in his eyes (go First!!!!🤞). You can feel the love he has for Ray simmering beneath but also the dejection that he feels towards seeing that Ray picked Mew.

This is not the face of someone who is happy with the decision they made. Khaotung really stepped up his acting in this scene because I swear I saw like 18 emotions go through him all at once (slay my king!!🤌). He has formed such a strong attachment to Sand and is now realizing what it means to have chosen someone else (and I don't think he feels too good about it).

THIS WHOLE SEQUENCE!!!!! Sand asking for Ray to let him go, and RAY LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT!!!! This had me seriously gagged to the core, I didn't even know what to do. Looking at it simply, they are both just sad. Sad at the fact that they know they can't be friends, but also won't admit their feelings, but it bothers them that they don't have each other😭. Seeing what unfolded afterwards with Yo and Plug was even a bigger eye opener for them because it was a direct parallel.

~~~MOVING ON!~~~

I think all of us got a little excited we we're going to get the "now that you've walked into my life..." scene, however, I actually really enjoyed this scene in between everything else that was happening because it shows Ray's dynamic with Sand during a regular time, right after showing his dynamic with Mew (pre-halloween). It gives us insight into the fact that despite Ray being with Mew, it still isn't enough for him. He is still wondering why Sand won't answer his messages, and still wants to spend time with him, even though they had that conversation at the bar and Sand asked to be let go. Ray can't/won't let go of Sand. *Bonus cute Ray pouty face*

What's funny to me is that Ray doesn't even realize what it means that he craves Sand's company. He has no problem verbalizing that being with Sand makes him happy (also in their bar conversation🧐) and isn't shy about asking to spend time with him. Yet, Sand still calls out the fact that Ray can spend time with Mew, but Ray doesn't even acknowledge it. Even using the excuse of Mew not being able to play instruments as a justification for seeking out Sand.

^^^^ I mean seriously look at that cute little face rn. I don't even blame Sand for folding like a wet tissue because I too would fold.

~~~MOVING ON PT.2~~~

The entire SandRay Halloween party sequence was BONKERS. I must applaud FirstKhao because they are mopping the floor with the other couples as far as chemistry goes (no shade to the other couples!!! I'll touch on them in a separate post).

POSSESSIVE RAY STANS STAND UPPPPP😩!!!!

Finally we have Ray witnessing the consequences of his actions. Literally seeing him looming behind Sand and the other guy, pushing him away, questioning Sand about what he's doing, saying he wants to sleep with him, then kissing him to establish dominance over the other guy. CHEF'S KISS😮‍💨. Now, obviously anyone with eyes can tell this behavior is toxic, but I simply have not seen this possessive side of Ray with anyone, not even Mew. It was nice to see Sand getting a little bit of attention in that regard. Was it healthy? No. Does Sand deserve better? Yes. But was it hot as hell and real as fuck? 100%.

FIRST KANAPHAN THE MAN THAT YOU ARE😩

He looked good enough to eat in his costume (I'm sorry I had to say it or I was gonna scream lol). I don't blame Ray for seeing his (boy)friend flirting with someone else while looking like that😭. Anyways, Sand standing his ground ONCE AGAIN was so elite of him, he refuses to be number 2 and I am here for it.

Listen guys... Say what you want but Ray ate this little bit up lmao. I chose to take this as progress in a way because Ray is finally bringing up the feelings between the two, and Sand made himself clear that he will not settle for less than first *no pun intended*. I must also state that I found Ray's possessiveness funny lmao because he had literally JUST kissed Mew (love of his life or whatever🙄) and then goes and get's pissed at Sand for even looking at someone else. And also kisses him?? Did he really need to get rid of Mew's kiss that badly🤨??

~~~Last scene hehe~~~

Sorry this post ran a little long but if you made it this far you're Sexy.

Sand throwing literally any beef he had with Ray out the window and into the rubbish bin to help him made my heart ache a little. No matter what Ray does, Sand will always be his emergency staff, no complaints, no conditions, no questions asked. Going as far as to lie to a police officer and coming up with excuses to help him shows how far Sand is willing to go for Ray. I hope this is something the Ray takes note of and appreciates.

This whole part honestly was pretty hard to watch, especially with the police brutality that a lot of people face around the world. I think the show did a good job of showing what this can look like on a smaller scale, and calling attention to it.

It once again showed Sand's loyalty to Ray, trying to hold on to him when the cops grabbed him, and telling him to stay still. Putting myself in his shoes, idk if I could bare the visual of the person I love getting handled that way.

Overall, this may be my favorite episode of the entire series. and I will say that it finally felt like FirstKhao were getting the screen time they deserved.

I physically gasped when I saw the preview for next week's episode because we're getting communication, and uninterrupted SandRay road trip (yeehaw😎).

Sorry again for this long post

See you guys next week!!

[sleeping-sirens]

Can you please make an imagine where taehyun and y/n go for a long night walk and taehyun confesses. With sky full of stars and his eyes sparkling. Your works are amazingggg!! Thank you 💓

galaxies in your eyes 𓂃 𖤐˚. kang taehyun

pairing : taehyun x fem reader.

genre : friends to lovers!au, mutual pining, fluff.

summary : the stars were beautiful that night. but not as much as taehyun’s eyes as he confessed his love to you, wearing his heart on his sleeve.

word count : 2276 words.

warnings : none 🫶🏼

a/n : thank for your request anon! i was so happy when i saw it in my inbox because it was my first time ever receiving a request so know that you made my heart all warm and fuzzy anon 😭 also sorry i took so long 💀 anywaysss hope you like it!! <;33

masterlist

buy me a coffee 🥹🫶🏼

taehyun loved many things.

he loved when he'd wake up without setting an alarm in the morning. just by feeling the warm sun rays caressing his cheeks softly and signaling the beginning of a brand new day.

he loved to go on a walk during those mornings. he'd happily put on his running shoes and favorite pair of sweats and go on a long walk alongside the han river. he'd stretch his vision far beyond the waters and gaze at the tall buildings littering the city that look like small figurines from afar.

on days where he wouldn't feel like going on a walk, he'd love to hit the gym. boxing being one of the things that kept him alive, as he'd say. he'd just stand in front of the sandbag and take off all the stress from his body. losing himself in the moment and letting his mind take control, finding his peace with each throw of his arms.

there was another way for taehyun to find his peace. another reason for him to just be a drowning mess in his own feelings. something, or rather, someone whose smile was enough to make him forget about any minor inconveniences he may meet in his life.

you.

he wanted to experience everything with you. he wanted to wake up in the morning with you, go on walks with you, work out and finish his day with you by his side. because out of all the things he loved, you were his favorite.

he loved you so much but he never found the good timing to confess. it was tragic, because with each day, his heart would tighten more inside his chest at how down bad he was for you. how you smiled, how you talked about what excited you and especially how you treated him.

taehyun was humbled by how you treated him and how you respected him. how you always made him your priority in your every day life. when you’d be around people, he’d be the only one to steal your gaze, your breath and all of your attention.

in your darkest nights, when nobody was around, you would call each other on the phone and talk about everything and nothing. he was your source of comfort as much as you were his.

when deep breaths are mingled and long sighs are shared, taehyun would know, again and again that he was head over heals in love with you.

“do you wanna go for a walk?” he whispered through the phone, breathing slowly, afraid to disturb the calmness of the moment if he ever let out a sound.

you pulled your phone away for a second to check what time it was, before quickly placing it on your ear, afraid to miss any words coming from him. “right now?”

“yes, i feel a tightness in my chest. i wanna breathe some fresh air.”

taehyun would rather just confess right now. he would rather admit to you right this second that his heart was full to the brim of feelings for you, and if he stayed like this any longer it would overflow and he might not be able to control himself around you.

“really? is it that bad?” you worried about him. you have never heard him say something like that. taehyun was always healthy, never the type to get sick or feel anxious if anything happened. his feelings and emotions would always be calculated, his entire life was planned. if anything would ever happen, he’d be prepared for it right that second.

“nothing a small night walk with you can’t fix,” he responded. and you could hear a hint of a smile under his breath. “i’ll be there in fifteen. dress warm and wait for me, okay?”

“okay,” you shared a long breath before you ended the call.

the thing was, you were so infatuated with taehyun that anything he did made your heart swarm with butterflies and to say that you were nervous was a understatement. your fingers trembled as you put on your coat and a large wool scarf around your neck.

and you waited.

at the fifteen minute mark, he sent you a message that he was outside your door and you took a second to regain your composure before you went out to him.

if i were to describe anything specific that happened in that moment, it’d be how taehyun’s pupils widened when his gaze landed on you, followed by a big and bright smile.

“hi,” he almost choked on his breath, opening his arms wide for you to be engulfed in his hug.

“hi,” your voice was muffled by his coat, your breath softly and sneakily hitting the sweetest spot in his neck and the hug went a bit tighter than normal. you didn’t complain, you let him squeeze you in his arms, no words shared, except for your heartbeats.

once you pulled away from him, he didn’t seem like he wanted to let go of your warmth any time sooner, so he quickly grabbed your arm and linked it with his.

“it’s a great night,” taehyun spoke and you didn’t miss how his head lifted towards the sky, eyes big and shining.

“look!” you pointed out, excitement bubbling in your chest. “the sky is full of stars!”

he instantly followed your pointer finger before averting his gaze down to catch your big smile, always mesmerized at your antics. you loved the stars, you loved gazing at the stars with taehyun.

you loved everything you did with him.

“they’re twinkling like crazy!” you breathed out, almost knocking taehyun to the side at how excited you were.

“do you know that stars don’t actually twinkle?” he asked, deep voice cutting through the air and awakening butterflies to go crazy in your belly.

“facts time with taehyun, we love,” you joked and he laughed with you.

“i think it’s something that should be common to know. they just appear to be twinkling because of some turbulence in the earth’s atmosphere. when the light of a star passes through the atmosphere, it goes through the many layers of it, each layer has its own density. so when the light travels through them, it deflects according to each layer so our eyes catch it as if they’re twinkling. but they’re not.”

taehyun explained as you walked by each other’s side, bodies occasionally bumping into each other as he still had his arm secured around yours. as he talked, he tried to convey his words into movements too so he kept moving his free arm around and flailing it up into the air to point out at the sky.

you hummed as you watched him. dazzled by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled with each tug of his smooth mouth.

“i’d still like to believe that they twinkle.”

your simple answer was too cute for taehyun to handle. but he tried to ground himself.

a few more minutes passed as you kept walking around the park, until you found a small bench surrounded by many cute flowers that bloomed in winter. without turning to say anything, taehyun knew that you wanted to take a little break. and it was an opportunity for him as well to take in everything that was happening around him.

you and him, and the stars.

as you sat down, you had the dark canvas of the sky dotted with a plethora of stars in front of you and it was a moment worth millions of bucks. you guys kept quiet for a moment, silence lingering around over tongue tied words that were dying to come into life. hearts melting and flooding your entire bodies with uncontrollable emotions. you knew each other too well to recognize the meaning behind your silence.

it’s been happening a lot lately, the fact that you would go silent a lot when you’d be together. it’s been happening ever since you blindly started falling for each other. none of you was able to break the curse of silence, but right now, taehyun have had enough.

“i love being with you,” he didn’t stutter as he said those words and you didn’t dare to look at him, afraid to morph into a blushing mess under his scrutinizing gaze.

“me too,” you whispered, not quite trusting your voice. out of the anxiousness, you started tapping on his knee, as if you were creating a melody that went in sync with your tumbling heart.

taehyun didn’t miss the chance to put his icy fingers over yours, wrapping your entire hand in his. his touch was delicate, therapeutic even. it was soft and you liked the feeling of it.

he took a deep breath before sitting straight and turning to you. you bit on the inside of your bottom lip, your heart beating like crazy.

“look at me, would you?” he chuckled, using his free hand to grab your chin lightly, tipping your head towards his direction.

when your eyes met, everything stopped. and you immediately discovered that there was another thing that twinkled just like the stars, or even better; his eyes. but only when he was looking at you.

“i’ve been keeping my feelings inside my chest for so long that it started to hurt. and though this is as cliché as it’s gonna get, but i believe that you accepting my love is the only thing that could heal me.”

you couldn’t talk upon hearing his sincere words, tears quickly glossing over your eyes. your body was floating on cloud nine and you have never imagined that he was going to confess one day.

“i know that what i’m feeling inside my heart is not something to be taken lightly. and i know that i’m not imagining scenarios in my head. your body language is a great enough sign that my feelings are reciprocated. over the months of discovering the sweet taste of falling for you, i couldn’t but feel the bitterness of not being able to confess to you any time sooner. not because i was not confident enough to do so, but just because i wanted to see how things are going to develop and i wouldn’t have been able to survive if you rejected me. so i kept my feelings shadowed, hinting at them with any action i did around you and your responses were always positive. the way you smiled at me longer than anybody else, the way you always thought of me first in whenever plans you made, the way your body naturally leans towards me…everything you did and still do gave me the strength to hold onto my feelings, and to love you even more each day.”

at this point, tears were silenty streaming down your face. you couldn’t believe your ears and your fingers were getting a cramp under his touch for not receiving enough blood flow in them. you took a shuddering breath, just like someone who was drowning and suddenly got pulled out onto the shoreline.

taehyun brought his fingers to your face, wiping away the tears that were blocking him from seeing your smile.

“i would be the happiest version of myself you’ve seen until now if you accept to be my girlfriend and i promise i’ll love you and take care of you just like how you deserve.”

“taehyun oh my god,” you cried and he quickly took you in for a hug. “i love you so much and i love myself when i’m with you. thank you for taking it slow and not rushing into anything, thank you for respecting my boundaries and giving me the chance to explore my feelings towards you before you made a move.” you sniffled as you confessed in the embrace of his arms, his hand softly caressing your shoulder and back as a form of comfort, to you and to himself.

he was so proud that you both could walk on a new path together, stoked to see what this adventure had in store for you. he was happy to be loved by someone like you and he made a simple promise to the stars that he’d always look out for you, always.

he gently peeled you off his body, keeping a close proximity of your faces. yours was flooding with tears and he couldn’t help but emit a small laugh. he wiped your face with his hands before he placed a soft peck on your forehead.

“don’t cry, please.”

“i’m crying happy tears, taehyun. i’m so happy i don’t think i’ll be able to stop crying.” you laughed, triggering another stream of happy tears to go down your cheeks.

his eyes teared up as he looked at you. and you saw stars inside them, more beautiful than the ones in the sky. and you wondered how many galaxies his eyes held.

“on a second thought, i’d like to take back what i said about stars. your eyes shine the most, taehyun and i’m so in love with you, your eyes, your lips, your hugs, you. just you and with everything that you are.”

“on a second thought, i don’t mind my eyes being compared to stars coming from you, and i don’t mind saying that the stars twinkle in the sky, as long as we are under it.”

“taehyun, i’m gonna kiss you,” you couldn’t control yourself and you didn’t wait for his answer before your lips crashed on top of his and a millions of fireworks bursted from your bodies.

that night, you and taehyun fell more in love with each other and the stars were the only witnesses.

a/n : hope you enjoyed this anon! 💘 tell me what you think through an ask, i’d LOVE to hear how this made you feel because it certainly made me hold my breath the entire time i was writing 😭 i’m so in love with taehyun i wanna be reader SO bad and kiss his lips and receive his hugs and be loved by him☹️☹️

[weirdmageddon]

long meditation on jade and dave's relationship - part 1

here's a three-part heavy homestuck meta. took me about 3 days to scrobble together and format and everything

part 2 part 3 cooking

i apologize in advance for the disorganization of my thoughts. after writing it i realized this is probably one of the clearest glances into how my mind thinks associatively so everything relates in some way to something else in here. the foundations for my thoughts might be invisible to others because they can’t see the connections ive built upon but you can probably see them here, and that strong foundation is also why i care so much about them and why i chose to lay it all out. sometimes i feel like i have Got to get this tangled associative web out of my head and into some form of writing so other people can be like, “oh so This is why you have so much to say” and can just. see into my head and where it all comes from for me. people have expressed interest and the general opinion tends to be that people like hearing my thoughts a lot so yeah. pov you are in my brainwebs. seatbelts everyone get on the magic school bus in that bitch

some time ago i saw this post i saw as i was going through florals jade tag again. my homestuck hyperfixation flared up again and ive been hyperfocused on dave and jade and particular just absolutely entering these monotropic black holes over them and turning them around at different angles and looking at discussions and what people thought both now and in the past and now that im older i can appreciate them even more. ive always been a fan of dave and jade both, but i cant even lie dave has my whole heart so maybe im biased as well. but i like to believe that regardless of my liking for dave and interest in not even x-ray scanning him just straight up 3D mri scanning him and rotating him in my head that my argument is still very reasonable. i just understand his psychology a lot

i want to preface this by saying i absolutely love floral and im so glad she’s on the hsbc team because i know she can do jade harley justice. one of the best jadesters fr. we all come into media analysis with different personal experiences and perspectives, and i understand this was from her perspective as someone who had run ins with dumb boys and relates a lot to jade which is why she can put so much love into her <3 i just found myself disagreeing with some of the arguments that she presented in that post just as a peer who also read the comic from my own perspective. keep in mind i also love jade to bits and want the best for her

so yea this isn’t a targeted post at all. it just got the juices flowing and inspired me to actually write my pre-existing thoughts down and i used it as a springboard for them

i think it ended up being pretty insightful overall especially because i was stoned as fuck writing it and ive come to realize being stoned amplifies and improves the output of my deeply inwardly associative thought processes tenfold. or maybe weed just changes how significant it feels. maybe a little of both

part 1: on using davesprite as a basis for interpreting jade's relationship with all daves

i love what hussie does with alternate versions of characters and. it’s one of the coolest things about homestuck’s characterization. like floral quoted:

… we see that Jack is a simple man, no matter what name he goes by. He is, if not much else (and he’s not), impatient and violent. We only got the briefest glimpse into these qualities when we were first introduced to him on Derse. But now we get to spend much more time with him, albeit in the form of a completely different character. This is another bit of sneaky utility provided by this intermission tangent. It serves as an arc to help indirectly characterize the villain of the early acts. Having multiple copies of a character operating in totally different circumstances turns out to be a great stealth characterization tactic, and it gets used much more aggressively later in the story. In fact, it proves to be inseparable from one of the story’s most essential themes. (Hussie’s Intermission commentary)

so i agree in principle and think the alt self thing is fucking brilliant

however, i disagree with the argument it’s supporting.

So, not the same character, but if switched, I would go out on a limb and say that Dave would experience all the same issues as Davesprite did, but without the “bird” part acting as an easy explanation. That doesn’t make Dave responsible but it does speak volumes to how their personalities respond to each other, insinuates that a relationship involving any Dave would end badly for Jade and that “Real” Dave indeed has Some Issues To Deal With.

i don't agree that dave and davesprite should be compared in this context. yes they are splinters of the same character and floral is right on the money in that canon deflecting the relationship failing on "bird issues" doesn't really explain anything meaningful, but i do not think its the case that all of jade’s relationships with dave are doomed to fail because of what we saw with jade and davesprite.

yes, if switched, dave strider would be practically identical to davesprite since they were the same exact person until a branch in the timeline

however, it's the unique things davesprite has been through that made him like this. davesprite has baggage that dave doesn't. a timeline where john was tricked into fighting his denizen early and died and jade couldn't get in on time and was presumably wiped out dinosaur style on earth. with alt future dave's year-worth of knowledge, gear, loot, and experience, he rescinded his player status and "realness" as a human person to be a game guide for his naive past self right before the timeline split in order for himself and his friends to continue existing.

that would mess anyone up mentally. it's no wonder he's jaded, no pun intended. he's depressed as shit and bitter and probably has trauma issues unrelated to his bro, though they do compound on it. yes they both experienced bro's abuse but i'm talking about the differences between alpha timeline dave and davesprite; right now im not going to talk about things that are the same about them prior to the timeline split because it applies to them both so it's redundant.

essentially what's setting them apart is their experiences playing sburb, their chronological age (alt future dave/davesprite had been making timeloops over a span of four months and he says that in total the time from his chronological perspective is close to a YEAR in sburb grinding shit out before he goes back), their relationship to their friends and how their friends see them and how they see themselves, their ontological natures as beings, what their purposes are.

davesprite had his ontological status as a person and purpose changed. he assumed he'd be the one playing and doing important main shit in the alpha timeline with all his friends but then it turns out that wasn't the case due to the events that went down in his timeline. and becoming a sprite solidly changed his degree of existence. davesprite's best friend john asking if he can talk to "the real dave" is when i think he realized just how fucked up his existence as a person has become despite him doing pretty much everything for everyone for nearly a YEAR before the alpha timeline was even able to get properly started. if davesprite didn’t exist, nobody would have (john needed to live to do ectobiology). davesprite knew this and weaponized it against john who john treated as a secondary, lesser dave. so of course he’s kind of an asshole. it’s like his efforts and sacrifices meant squat to the people he considered his best friends because they didn’t experience it. to john he just suddenly appeared from the future and became a sprite.

this is heavy shit for davesprite that alpha timeline dave does NOT have to go through and it did change him in ways that cannot be said about alpha timeline dave. this is not a universal dave experience. so while it’s true that dave has the capacity of act like davesprite under those exact circumstances, alpha timeline dave didn’t undergo those that led to davesprite’s more miserable traits. therefore i don’t think it’s fair to conflate jade’s failed relationship with davesprite in particular as informing of how most of jade and dave’s relationships would unfold, because davesprite has been in exceptionally tragic circumstances, coming to terms with the state of his own existence. the last thing davesprite needs is romance. alpha timeline dave does not carry this burden.

Everyone believed that what was creating the dissonance wasn’t a central part to Dave’s character but an aftereffect of Bird Syndrome. Which you can’t blame them for because there’s nothing that would lead them to think differently. Every character besides Dirk is completely in the dark about Bro’s abuse and Dave stated he’d probably never tell any of the Betas. Which is fine, no one’s owed to know somebody’s baggage. But when you don’t give people a means to understand what you’re going through, especially when it leads you to hurt them, its only inevitable everyone’s going to be confused and going to come to conclusions using what they do know.

rebuttal to this: as i said earlier i don’t buy the whole bird issues thing and i get the handwaviness about being fused with a bird being john’s explanation for davesprite’s bullshittery. however i think it’s important to mention that john and jade both question if becoming a sprite might have had something to do with his change.

being fused with a bird never bothered him, as jade says. it was all the other baggage that came with the prototyping.

this includes playing the game for way longer than anyone else and mindlessly grinding from the ground up for about a year, then turning himself into a game construct and having his ontological level of existence as the platonic ideal form of dave strider lowered in the eyes of his friends.

JOHN: like what? JADE: its hard to explain JADE: just some slight differences in personality i guess JOHN: he still raps sometimes. JADE: yes... JADE: so? JOHN: i just thought i would mention that. JADE: ok i will admit i cant really tell if his rapping style has changed JOHN: trust me, it hasn't. JADE: i dont know if the differences are because he is a sprite JADE: or because he lived for a while in a different timeline... (p.4733)

JOHN: why is he such a basket case? he's like regular dave, but like, aloof enigma edition. JOHN: maybe it's because he's part bird? i think becoming a bird and a sprite did something weird to him. JADE: i dont think being a bird ever bothered him JADE: like i said... its all more complicated than that JOHN: normal dave was so much more level headed. JOHN: i have to admit, i spend a lot of time wondering what he and rose are up to. JADE: me too JOHN: ehh... JOHN: maybe it's for the best he broke up with you. JADE: why? JOHN: well, what kind of future do you think you would have with him? JOHN: he's a sprite. like really, what even is a sprite? how long do they live? will he still be around if we win the new game we are allegedly trying to get to? JADE: i dont know (p.5294)

as for the bro abuse thing, i can’t tell if floral’s position here is that davesprite is fucked up and had a failed relationship with jade because of bro’s abuse, and that dave would also necessarily have failed relationships with jade because he had the same experiences and also doesn’t tell anybody? the wording there is kind of vague and can be interpreted in different ways but that’s how i interpreted it.

they are right that bro’s abuse is something dave keeps to himself. but remember that dave has also deluded himself about it to cope. he doesn’t know what to think of it himself. both alpha timeline dave and davesprite have this baggage, but we explore it more with alpha timeline dave.

i know dave said in the post-retcon timeline when having a conversation with dirk that he could never tell karkat all of this or any of the betas about his abuse. but i still find this pesterlog interesting and i want to put a spotlight on it. even while dave was still chugging that copium, jade was the person he was closest to opening up about the nature of his relationship to his bro at this point. remember this is quite early on in the comic and he didn’t have 3 years on the meteor to contemplate it yet when he said this to her, his bro had just died at this point

GG: anyway dave im really sorry about your bro/dad GG: you were pretty close with him right? TG: meh it was a pretty bizarre relationship by any standard TG: fightin off wave after wave of face pumicing puppet ass every day TG: always being on guard for stealth attacks in the middle of the night while getting up to go to the fucking bathroom GG: heheh TG: but i guess it all sorta amounted to some vague unspoken semblance of kinship TG: if thats a thing TG: like if honor among thieves is something then lets call it camaraderie among ironic rapping roof ninjas TG: but thanks GG: sure TG: i thought about taking his sword TG: when i was there TG: but i couldnt TG: couldnt really bring myself to try to pull it out it was too weird GG: dave we have to stop him!!!!! TG: what GG: jack! GG: he shouldnt get away with this TG: you think (p.3204)

even if he’s in denial about it, deciding to point out the positivity he can rationalize about it to avoid spending too much time thinking deeply about it (it makes him uncomfortable), he’s getting closer to acknowledging the truth here that shit wasn’t normal, about it being “bizarre” and you can tell hes being genuine here when he thanks jade for her concern about his loss

dave then continues talking about his thoughts/feelings on the situation after jade says “sure”, as if he took her concern as an invite to open up about his thoughts even when it’s something vulnerable for him that he tried putting on false bravado in front of terezi about. jade then abruptly changes topic to what’s to be practically done about these tragedies—dave was still on the topic of his bro and she changed the topic to jack noir without clarifying, hence he goes “what”

this is interesting because terezi tried to get something out of him about this and was met by riddly puzzlecock and false bravado but he’s pretty straight up about his current feelings with jade. basically it really depends on the person dave is talking to.

in this specific argument, floral approaches grimbark jade solely from the position of her being uninhibited which is true in many ways, but grimbark jade is also quite nefarious and not in her right mind. i think that even if jade were unihibited and spoke her mind, she wouldn’t have it in her push the mayor into lava to get dave to fight her. thats the evil. floral does acknowledge this in a separate post though, but it’s not really touched on in her argument im discussing. i also want to reiterate that even though it might seem like im violently ripping this post limb from limb its really just something to bounce my pre-existing thoughts off of. this is all written with civility towards and respect for floral

even roxy says something about this—that the schtick doesnt suit her. like it doesnt feel like something she’d have the natural capacity to really be without some external influence

ROXY: so alt grannydaughter english ROXY: whyre u part dog + evil lookin JADE: DO NOT CALL ME THAT!!! ROXY: what JADE: my surname is harley not english JADE: but you may refer to me as jade, or ma'am if you are feeling especially nervous and deferential JADE: which as it turns out is the way you should be feeling about me, ALWAYS >:B ROXY: LOL!!! JADE: lol WHAT ROXY: jade i am in no way buying that ur normally this pompous and tyrannical ROXY: the shtick rly doesnt suit you its so obvious (p.6291)

so i don’t think everything jade says here should be taken to heart about her real feelings or how she would express them if she was being genuine as her normal self. we know jade can get mad but i think we’re giving her evil possession a little too much credit

that’s why i was personally disappointed in grimbark jade when homestuck was ongoing, is it felt like it didnt really give us anything? it was like empty calories while just waiting for the regular jade to come back which she never did. it is interesting to look at in retrospect to see if there’s anything there but…grimbark jade isn't exactly a reliable narrator. i guess none of them are but like, especially not grimbark jade. if i can’t separate what’s genuinely jade under this mess from what isn’t then what’s the point?

like for example this was left out of floral’s argument when showing this part, but in the comic grimbark jade tells dave that he’s “more messed up inside than davesprite” …. right after dave wouldnt comply with her demands to fight her and doesnt want to fight lord english. that’s…not really telling about anything at all for either of them. jade is evil and if things dont go the way she’s programmed to get them to go she’s gonna flip her lid. this is what i mean about her not being in her right mind

JADE: the fact is youre going to have to rely on those powers if you want to stand any chance against a lord of time JADE: it is safe to expect he can only be challenged by someone with a similar command over the aspect DAVE: why is that safe to expect DAVE: where are all these presumptions coming from DAVE: if you can use swords why dont you take the welsh cueball sword and fight him yourself DAVE: i bet you could fuck him up DAVE: youre probably even more extra strong now that youve succumbed to the bark side DAVE: did you ever think about that JADE: dave i am perfectly aware of the awesome powers granted to me by the bark side JADE: it does not matter JADE: i cant be the one to wield your sword against english JADE: it has to be you JADE: it is the will of the empress, and thats final DAVE: the empress can suck it DAVE: i have no intention of fighting him DAVE: and this isnt even me pulling more lame self aware reluctant hero junk DAVE: i am just straight up not going to do it DAVE: see thats not reluctance its just petulant refusal on my part DAVE: reluctant hero shit is when the guys like aw shucks i dunno if i wanna but deep down we all know he really does DAVE: but i really dont DAVE: why should i DAVE: i dont give a damn about lord english or his nebulous atrocities out in nowherespace DAVE: what kind of villain is someone you never met who hardly did anything evil to you or your friends directly DAVE: or even to anyone in your universe for that matter other than through some vague insidious influence DAVE: who even is this guy and why should i hate him DAVE: am i really supposed to be pissed off at a green muscle monster i never met DAVE: cause i aint pissed off at no muscle monster DAVE: hell wasnt he in some ass backwards way responsible for us existing in the first place? DAVE: or all of humanity for that matter?? DAVE: maybe i should thank him before chopping him up via welshscalibur JADE: jeez you sure have some issues JADE: honestly it has become very tiresome listening to this sort of thing JADE: i thought davesprite had problems JADE: his issues i could kind of understand JADE: i thought you might be different, being the alpha dave and all JADE: but no JADE: you might be even more messed up inside than he was! DAVE: what DAVE: why are you dragging that guy into this (p.6385 / 6386)

part 2

[amberlynnmurdock]

The Good In You (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Benjamin 'Dex' Poindexter x Reader

Series Summary: She's the new in-house nurse at the FBI headquarters in Manhattan. The only time she ever interacts with the agents is when she's stitching up their wounds. She's gotten to know almost all of them in this way, but there's one agent who's been harder to get to know. The other agents say what they want about Special Agent Poindexter, but she'll never speak negatively of him. Eventually, she does get to know him; she does get to know the good in him. At least for as long as the good lasts.

Genres: fluff, super angst, betrayal, reader wants Dex to be good so bad

A/N: Dex has got to be the most complex character to write lol, but it's so much fun. This idea dawned on me recently and I had to get it out there. I hope you like it! :)

Words: 3.5k

Ao3 Link

It wasn’t often FBI agents needed tending to their wounds because often they could get the job done without a scratch. Still, the FBI headquarters in Manhattan needed a resident nurse for when some agents got banged up, and that nurse was her. 

She liked being a nurse at the FBI—believe it or not, it paid more than her previous job at Metro-General and it was up her alley to be working specifically with the FBI. She hated when her manager at Metro told her she’d yet again be switching departments, meaning she’d have to find a new way to commute to the hospital since it was so large and had different entrances. It was also hard to build a relationship with the patients there since she was often switched because the hospital couldn’t keep its shit together. Why get so attached to tending to the same patient almost every day, just for one day she'd be told she’d never be able to see them again? 

It took a toll on her since she was the type of person to get attached to people she cared about. She may not have known her patients for a long time, but the time she spent with them was precious. These people were sick or injured, and they leaned on her not only to help them, but to have someone to talk to when their family couldn’t make it on any particular day. 

So one day, she asked yourself, what’s the use? What’s the use in getting attached and being taken away so easily? What’s the use in letting the hospital treat her relationships with her patients as disposable? 

When she saw the open position for a nurse at the FBI, she hoped she’d at least be dealing with the same agents now and then. So far, she has. No more switching around—no more connections being cut for no reason. 

Being here almost six months, she’s come to know many of the agents. Many of them had families, some were new to the job—and for some, all they had was this job. Despite the only time she’d see these agents was when they were hurt, she looked forward to catching up with them in her exam room as she stitched up or cleaned their wounds.

Ray Nadeem is one of the agents who has a family. When it was Ray she had to tend to, she knew her time with him would be pleasant. He was—no pun intended—a ray of sunshine. A sweet family man, who truly cared about his job and justice. 

Ray is in her exam room today. Not for anything serious. A bunch of agents responded to a complaint downtown—gang members fighting at a liquor store. Truthfully, not the worst she’s heard them be called for. The FBI normally had everything under control in situations like that. Ray had a few scratches on his face, and he was pushed into an aisle of white wine. She could smell the wine on his jacket. She already checked for broken glass. She was now tending to the cut on his cheekbone. 

“Was it bad?” She asked him. 

Ray shook his head. “Not really. We apprehended them pretty quickly. We had enough agents there.”

“That’s good,” she said, focusing on cleansing the wound. “Early night at least.”

“Yeah,” Ray sighed, “just in time for me to tuck Sammy into bed.”

Her heart melted at the mention of his son. No amount of cuts on his face could keep Ray from smiling whenever he brought up his son. 

“How is Sammy doing? Is he going to try out for any sports this fall?” She asked. 

“Maybe soccer. He’s more interested in spring sports, like baseball.”

“Ah,�� she smiled. “I’ve always found that more fun, too. Spring in general.”

“Yeah,” Ray sighed, again. A sigh she’s come to know as regretful, these past few months getting to know him. “Just wish I was able to surprise him in the spring with the pool he’s been begging for.”

“I’ve only been here a few months, and I know you’re due for a promotion,” she said knowingly. “It’s only September. Anything can happen in the next few months,” a hopeful tone laced in her voice. She didn’t have a license in therapy, but sometimes the agents treated her as such. She didn’t mind, though. 

“I hope so,” Ray said, exasperated. “Thanks, though. For fixing me up,” he pointed to the bandage she just finished putting on his face. “You make me look less scary coming home to Sammy.”

She wanted to laugh, but she stopped herself. It must be hard being an agent, working a daunting job, and coming home to a family like they don’t risk their life every day at work. Instead, she smiles softly at Ray. 

“Thankfully, there wasn’t much to clean up. Just a check-up, I say. Get home safe, Ray.”

“You too,” Ray said, standing up from the exam table. “You going home after this?”

“Hopefully before 10,” she glanced out the window that showed a completely dark sky. One of the perks of working at the FBI, they offered her a service to get her home safely so she didn’t have to worry about going home alone. At night, as a young woman in this city, walking home could be dangerous. 

“Good,” Ray said. “You deserve sleep just as much as we do. Everyone appreciates you being here. I hope you know that.” 

She smiled. “I’m happy to be here.”

“Night, __,” Ray said. “I’ll be sure to tell Sammy you said hi.”

“Please do.”

With one last reassuring nod, Ray left her room. She quickly filled out his file on the computer and checked off the remaining boxes: no head trauma, no serious injuries, no broken bones, no concussion. Just a good old-fashioned cleaning and bandaging. 

A knock on the door brings her out of her focus on the screen. 

“Come in,” she called, not looking to see who it was. By how the door was carefully opened and carefully shut, she felt the person was hesitant in their movements. 

“I’m sorry,” Special Agent Poindexter said. “I can come in when you’re ready.”

She swirled around in her chair to face him immediately. It wasn’t often Dex said much to her, so on the rare occasion he does decide to speak to her, she’s fully paying attention to what he has to say. 

“It’s okay, I was just finishing up,” she stood from her chair. She could see now that his forehead was dripping blood from a cut, and he was attempting to absorb it with the rough paper towels from the bathroom. This indicates why he opened the door to come in—he needed help now. “I’m sorry, Dex. Please sit.”

While she quickly washed her hands, Dex awkwardly shuffled to the exam table and propped himself up on it, holding the paper towel to his forehead. He’s covering half his face and his gaze is away from her, like it always was when it was his turn to be tended to. His dirty blonde hair was pushed to the side. The veins on his hand were prominent. 

“May I?” She asked him first, indicating she wanted to take away the paper towel to begin cleaning his wounds. He only offers her a small nod. 

Dex was hard to figure out—he wasn't like the other agents she’s tended to. He was quiet. Stoic. He wasn’t rude, but he also didn’t go out of his way to make conversation. That was fine by her. She never wanted anyone in her exam room to be uncomfortable or pressured to talk—these agents worked a hard enough job already. They can’t always be at 100% all the time. She just could never tell if Dex was or not. She chalked it up to him being super serious about work. He’s in, and then he’s out. Sometimes, she's tried for conversation, but it was always hit or miss. 

“This may sting,” she says gently. It’s something she says all the time to him, just to fill the silence between them. He faintly nods. His gaze stays away from her. She gently presses the alcohol-absorbed cotton pad over his wound. Ever so slightly his jaw clenches at the contact and he takes a small intake of breath. He shuts his eyes until the sting goes away. 

“I’m sorry,” she dabs on it again. “Just one more. It’s a deep cut.”

“It’s alright,” Dex reassures her. “You can do what you need to.”

Maybe it was a good thing Dex didn’t talk to her so much when he was here—his voice was deep, a hint of a New York accent. And his speaking so closely to her made it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. Now it was her turn to keep quiet. 

She dabbed at his wounds until the bleeding stopped. She grabbed fresh bandages and patched them up. 

“I have to ask you some questions,” she said carefully, feeling nervous for some reason. Dex had his full attention on her now, his gaze no longer hidden. An unreadable expression on his face. 

“Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“Does your body hurt anywhere else?”

“No.”

“Is your vision blurred?”

“No.”

“Alright,” she nodded. “Otherwise, was tonight an okay night?”

Dex shifted on the exam table. “Yeah, it was fine. Easier than most.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Well, if nothing else hurts, then you’re free to go.”

“Thank you, __,” Dex says, and she realizes it's the first time he’s spoken her name. For a while there, she wondered if he ever cared to remember it. Maybe he was the type to have to warm up to someone first before he started a working relationship. That's alright—in a lot of ways, she was the same. “I appreciate it.”

And there it was again—another sentence from the agent she thought didn’t like her for the longest time. Sometimes the agents spoke of Dex in passing to her—saying the job went smoothly, save for Dex who was always too willing to go the extra mile when he didn’t need to. She never engaged in negative talk about him or anyone at the Bureau. She respected all their work. Everyone handles this job differently. Dex handles it in his way: by keeping to himself and keeping the conversation at a minimum. 

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. Dex offered a hint of a smile as he got up from the exam table. 

“Guess you can go home now?” Dex asks. He’s standing close to her as she crosses her arms, in an attempt to not appear nervous by the way he's looking at her. She's delighted at the attempts at conversation he’s finally making. 

“Yeah, you were the last agent I needed to see.”

“I’m sorry for keeping you,” he says, brows furrowed. 

“Don't be sorry. It’s my job,” she reasoned. “I like being here when I’m needed.”

Dex sighs; he looks tired. Despite his tiredness, she couldn’t deny how handsome he looked, even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. 

“Night, Dex. Get home safe.”

“You too.” 

***

Another night of tending to wounded FBI agents. This time, the wounds weren’t as simple. Some of them got really banged up—stitches were required this time. She was hyper-focused on the stitching she had to do on Ray on his left shoulder. He had his sleeve hanging off his shoulder and sat stiffly on the exam table, holding his breath at every movement. 

“Not a good night, huh?” She asked. 

“No,” Ray shook his head. “Not the worst, but I’ve had better.”

“Good thing the bullet was just a graze,” she reasoned, finishing up the last of his stitching. “Alright. You need to take it easy with that arm this weekend.”

“Will do,” Ray nodded. “Good thing I can hide this from Sammy with long sleeves. I hate to see him worrying about me.”

“I know,” she sighed. She got up to take off her gloves and wash her hands. She undid her hair in her claw clip and brushed it before twisting it up again. “It must be hard. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Ray shook his head. “Part of the job. Anyways, got any fun plans this weekend?”

“Not really,” she leaned against the counter and crossed your arms. “Catching up on sleep, probably.” It was already nearly midnight at the Bureau. “You?”

“Taking Sammy to the zoo with his friends,” Ray said. “Should be fun.”

“It will be. I’ll see you Monday, Ray.”

Ray slides his jacket on and exits her exam room. She washes your hands again before preparing for the next—and final—agent she has to stitch up. Of course, it was Dex. He was always the last to be seen. Of all the agents, he managed to always get hurt the least. 

Dex is waiting patiently on the chair outside her exam room, anticipating his turn to see her. He enjoyed being around her because he didn’t have to pretend to be anyone—didn’t have to pretend the job was hard. All these men and women around him had families to come home to, or they had someone waiting at home for them. That’s what made it hard for them. Dex didn’t have anyone. That’s what made it so easy. 

And his fellow agents could never understand his nonchalantness about it all. He didn’t care. That was on them. He only got checked out by her because he had to—it was a requirement that all agents see the nurse before heading home after a task. Truthfully, he didn’t need to see her. Perhaps he just wanted to. 

“Dex?” She calls his name, pulling him from his thoughts. Dex is slouched in the chair, but he perks up when he hears her say his name. She leaves the door open and he closes it behind him when he enters her exam room. 

Her hair is up—he often wondered what it would look like if it were down. He's never seen her look casual before. Always in scrubs, always hair pushed back. Her scrubs were dark navy blue to match his FBI jacket, with a small FBI logo near her left shoulder. A piece of her hair falls to the front of her face, slightly framing it. He doesn’t blush, but he thinks she looks pretty. Really pretty. And tired, just like him. 

Dex takes his seat naturally on the exam table. She grabs her stethoscope and raises her hands to touch his face, but stops. 

“May I?” She asks, like she always did. Dex nods and looks away from her gaze. It was easier to get through these visits if he wasn’t looking at her. He feels her fingertips gently hold his face to get a better look at his wounds that don’t hurt that much. 

“Well, they’re not bad. Not bad at all,” she says, unsure if she is saying it out loud for herself or for him to know as well. He didn’t care if he was hurt. “Definitely will need cleaning though. But let me make sure your heart is all good and your head is fine.”

“It’s fine,” Dex reassures her, but he knows it’s no use. 

“I still have to check,” she gives a small smile. He nods in understanding. She places the stethoscope on his back and asks him to breathe deeply three times, which he does. Everything sounds good, she says. She then places her fingers on his head, searching for any bumps or bruises. He closes his eyes at this—truthfully, if he had a favorite part, this was it. For a moment, the thoughts that swarmed in his head were quieted when he felt her fingers trace over his head. It was hypnotizing almost, a trance he never wanted to snap out of. 

And when her hands disappeared, he was brought to reality. 

“All good,” she says softly. “I’ll clean up your wounds and you’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“You don’t have to rush,” Dex tells her. “I don’t need to be anywhere.”

“On a Friday night?” She questions with a smile as she cleans her hands at the sink. He knows she’s being nice, but truthfully he didn’t have anywhere to be. Just home. If he could even call it that. 

“Yeah,” he laughs half-heartedly, an attempt to match her attitude. “Got no plans for Friday.”

“Same here,” she sighs as she puts on the periwinkle-colored gloves. “My plans are sleep and more sleep.”

This time Dex laughs—really laughs—because he agrees. He hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, despite how tired all the time he feels. “I get that,” Dex nods. He relaxes a little bit more on the exam table. 

She dabs the cotton pad in alcohol and lets it dry before she places it on his wounds. There’s a cut on his forehead, right cheekbone and a little wound on his jawline. She opens her mouth to speak, but Dex cuts her off. 

“I know it’ll sting,” he says gently. “It’s fine.” 

She smiles sheepishly, “I do give that warning a lot, huh?”

“It’s alright,” Dex shrugs. “It’s nice to be warned of pain before it happens. That’s not always the case.”

“How—“ she begins, furrowing her eyebrows. Contemplating the wording of her question. “How do you brace yourself? For all this? This job?” 

Dex sighs. It wasn’t an easy question to answer, because he truthfully didn’t have an answer. Most agents would probably chalk it up to it being part of the job, but it wasn’t that simple for Dex. It… was just a job. If he got hurt, he got hurt. There was nothing else to it. No one would be upset if he got hurt—no one would cry for him. 

Plus, the other part of it, despite it sounding cocky… it was rare Dex ever got hurt in the line of battle. He was a sniper—he was part of the SWAT unit. He was the one who did the hurting. He was the one who used lethal force. It was rare he ever missed. 

“Mindset is everything,” Dex says anyway. “I know what I have to do. I have a job to do.”

“That makes sense,” she says, believing him. “I mean, if it makes you or any of the agents feel better, despite this being my job—it doesn’t make it any easier seeing you guys hurt like this.”

“It doesn’t?” Dex questions. 

“Of course not,” she said. “I’ve… gotten to know a lot of you over the past few months being here. A lot of these agents have families. A wife or husband to come home to. They open up about that a lot. There are other ways to be hurt than just having physical wounds.”

Dex takes in what she’s saying. He swallows hard. 

“It’s just me,” Dex tells her. “I’ve only got me to worry about me. That’s why it’s easier for me to come in and do what I need to do.” 

As she listens to him say this, a thought pings in her head. She noticed on the file she has on him that he didn’t have any relatives listed as an emergency contact. Ray had his wife, Hattley her husband—all the other agents had someone listed. But Dex had no one listed as an emergency contact. She knew he wasn’t being sheepish when he said he was all he had—it was the truth. Sad, but true. 

She doesn’t say anything in return. She continues to clean his wounds and bandage him up in silence—comfortable silence, for once. Dex’s eyes remain looking at the floor as she works her fingers around his temple. She gently lifts his chin with her fingers to get a better angle at the cut on his jaw—his jawline that appears to have been sculpted by the Gods. Being this close to him, she got a whiff of the faint smell of his cologne, now mixed with the smell of sweat. With one last check on his face, she tells him she’s done. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asks him, leaning against the counter and facing him. 

Dex rises from the exam table and circles his shoulder to stretch. “No. I’m fine.”

“Alright well,” she sighs, feeling somewhat shy by the way he’s looking at her, giving her his full attention. “Get home safe, Dex.”

“You, too, __,” Dex breathes out. “And thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough.”

“It’s alright—no need.”

With a small smile, Dex is almost on his way out of her exam room—until he hears her call his name under her breath. 

“Dex,” she says, hesitant with her words. “Don’t take this the wrong way. But you’re not all you have. You’re not alone. You’ve got me now to be worried about you,” she tells him, offering a genuine smile. 

Dex looks away from her, stumped by her words. Regardless if she really meant it or not—it was nice for him to hear. Nice to know that he could be wrong about something he’s always firmly believed. 

He doesn’t say anything in return. He holds her gaze for a few moments, holds her smile, and puts it to his memory. He smiles back. And then he leaves. Maybe he would get some good sleep tonight, knowing someone worried about him. 

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

Hypothetically speaking; if Omi, Kimiko, Raimundo or Clay drank the Lao Mang Lone Soup, what do you think their respective Heylin monster forms would be? What would their evil personalities be like?

Please note though that the personalities we saw when each one of them briefly turned to the dark side hardly count, since, A.) Heylin Raimundo was just Rai going through some emotional problems and looking for both an alternative choice and an outlet to take all of his frustration and anger out on, B.) Omi and Kimiko only turned evil because they both had their respective good sides magically removed by the Ying-Yang World, so, it’s kind of hard to count that as seeing what they would be like if they turned to the dark side, and C.) Clay was merely possessed by an evil entity, meaning that every single bad thing that we saw him do or say was all just Sibini using him for a puppet

I definitely subscribe to gravity-what's theory that "Lao Mang Lone soup transformations work by latching on to a person’s insecurities and current mental state."

Hence, Chase looking very much like a traditional, reptilian dragon/drake that even incorporates some of his spiky hair into its design, because Chase took the time to contemplate it and knew what he was getting into and ultimately decided he wanted this path to make the legendary name for himself that he envisioned, regardless of it costing him everything he believed in and everyone he loved.

And Guan having this harder exterior and a much more haphazard mix of pincers and claws and natural weapons because, when he accepted Hannibal's offer, it was some time after a strain had appeared in his and Chase's relationship with Chase having this unresolved enmity from not getting to drink the soup when he had resolved to abandon everything. So Guan wanted a means to lash out, but also a defensive outer shell to harden his heart.

So, my thoughts for how each monk's Lao Mang Long dragon form might be:

I love gravity-what's design for dragon Omi, can't improve upon perfection.

Tiny, but with this frill he can flare up to make himself look and feel bigger and scarier. Claws and fangs that are good for sharp, quick attacks. A tale that's not a good weapon but serves for good balance, so he's very agile and fast. Hyperactive and vicious, but still has this surprisingly kitten-like adorableness to him somehow. Confused and angry and tricked and lost but feisty and determined and sharp and wide-eyed and naive, this form definitely captures the moment!

He's scared and confused, and was tricked into it again, but he's always been a fighter, and he's prepared to fight now, too.

Once he acclimates, though, he'll be fueled by loyalty and devotion like he always is, so it's a matter of who he aligns himself with. There's no form of Omi that's ever going to want to go it alone, so he'd inevitably end up under someone he can cling to.

-

For Kimiko, her Heylin side is driven by ambition and passion. It was only half of her, but what we see is still genuine. She made it very clear, she wants the world, nothing more and nothing less.

Her dragon form would be the only one that incorporates her element into it, visually, and the only one that would have fur instead of scales. She'd look a lot like a Hisuian Typhlosion.

Hypnotically pretty in a dragon sorta way. Sleek, shiny, fireproof fur, beautiful eyes, fluffy ears and tail, graceful but powerful movements. A collar of ghostly flames that wisp and flare in a bright magenta red color. The ever-burning flames would be more of a Heylin magic thing and less of a true-burning fire by default, but they'll still burn whoever she wants them to burn. Kimiko's always been a little scared of getting too close to others and letting any shortcomings show, so the natural way to keep other's at whatever distance she wants or to draw them in with something eye-catching would suit her.

She can emit fire or smoke with a practiced ease, and its powers can be just as mystical and disorienting as they can be destructive.

She's still clever but temperamental, and is the dragon that'd be most focused on long-term goals, since her motivations are the most goal-oriented.

-

For Clay, he's a big guy that often tries to make himself seem smaller, take up less space.

We've never seen what it would take to drive him to the Heylin side, but we still have a lot of his hang-ups and motivations that we can draw from.

His dragon form would have the thickest skin, maybe even a hard outer shell of some sort he can retreat into. All defense. And his would have a "chameleon-like" (but more cuttlefish-like in the mechanics) ability to camouflage itself to any environment, even changing his texture and patterns to blend in. I don't have an exact visual analogue for this one, but if I had to pick, maybe something like the Mystery Shell Dragon from YuGiOh?

Clay would make some place his own, cultivate it, and be highly territorial over it. He'd have little interest in dominating the world, he just wants some corner of it that is his and his alone, like how he focused on building a new home in the alternate universe rather than actively fighting. But like Chase and Guan, he'd definitely gather up an army of people-turned-animals of some sort.

-

For Raimundo, he made the decision to betray his allies fueled by spite. He was fully of sound mind and didn't really have to be prodded or magically altered. Raimundo ultimately wanted the other monks taken down a peg. He was angry and frustrated, and he wanted to hurt them and make them feel as bad or worse than he did. That was more of a motivation for him than the riches.

Though the riches he sold out for were still some factor, so it'd be interesting if gold were incorporated into his dragon form somehow.

Aside from that, I think his form would be a bit like Guan's in that it would have a lot of natural weapons incorporated into it and boast a design most suited for offense, but far less shielded. An amalgamation of vulnerable sinew and sharp edges. He'd have a stinger on his tail, tusks and horns on his head, pincers on his hands, spikes along his body, rows of shark teeth, maybe even something projectile-like incorporated into his anatomy. The soup would draw out a form built for destruction and pain in accordance with his motivations for turning.

Again, I lack a perfect analogue here, but it'd be something to the vibe of Devidramon from Digimon.

[thatgirl4815]

Intimacy & Communication (Ep6)

Once again, there’s been a lot of talking, and a lot of talking within said talking, and now all hell has broken loose. Everybody is in shambles. I'm in shambles. We're all in shambles. And it will only get worse from here. 🥲

*Note: Since this meta is slowly becoming a series, you can find the other metas here

SandRay

I suppose we have Boston to thank for Sand and Ray’s communication issues; prior to this episode, I think they’ve maintained a reasonably healthy communication style—even if it was destined to implode at some point with the whole “We say we’re friends but we feel like more than friends.” I think Boston has just sped things along at an uncomfortable rate.

It’s interesting because Sand and Ray’s closeness is solid when they're alone, but the moment their relationship is known, it's immediately thrown into turmoil. It's also upsetting that Sand, someone we know to have a very direct approach to communication (not unlike Ray), is very closed off in Ep6. I'm thinking specifically of the Pool Scene (a label that should not be confused with the KinnPorsche Pool Scene™, whose name shall live in infamy).

It occurred to me while rewatching this scene that this is one of the only, if not the only, time we see Sand and Ray talk about anything but their relationship to each other. They haven't often mentioned the other characters because up to this point, the drama hasn't forced them to.

That fact alone gives this scene a certain chill. There's no sign of their usual flirtiness. And Sand is noticeably resistant to Ray's efforts to straighten things out since the fight with Boston. Sand is lost in his own anger, in feeling used by Ray and unwanted, and that reaction is reflected in every part of this scene. Ray clearly reads between the lines on what Sand says about Mew, and once again wants to speak directly about it. He knows Sand is bothered, even when he says he isn't. Whatever casual "We're just friends" comments Sand used before are clearly not at play anymore. Ray and Sand both know that Sand cares, long before Sand is direct about it--

This scene shows a bit of a flip in terms of how both Ray and Sand respond to each other, specifically when it comes to honesty. Ray is the one who has just blown up in anger, and he's the one lying, calling Sand a whore who only wants his money, who doesn't have honest dreams, etc. But Sand is direct this time. No jokes or flirts. It's an admission that both Sand and Ray have known about, but it's something that Ray needs to hear, because a) he hears it so little in his life and b) because the more lonely he feels, the more reason he has to get in his car and risk himself.

Excited to see where this goes with Sand comparing his relationship with Ray to Ray's relationship with alcohol next ep. In any case, I'm glad Sand is aware of the position that he is in. All of these characters are very cognizant of their situations.

TopMew

Top and Mew pose a stark contrast to SandRay in that they go from seemingly very solid communication and intimacy to very negative. My key takeaway from their plot line this episode is how Mew keeps his anger over Top's infidelity buried until they're in bed together. Which, from an entertainment standpoint, is just glorious. From a communication standpoint, it seems to bring everything full circle.

Sex has caused a lot of tension in Top and Mew's relationship. It's been a power play from Mew when he's withheld it, but last episode we saw that barrier finally break. But Mew takes back control here through the truth, and he effectively turns the tables on Top, calling back to the very thing he had hang ups about in the first place: sex.

We already know how Mew views sex. And we also know that Mew has gradually transformed Top's view of sex as something to build emotional intimacy. So for Top to have hooked up with Boston is like a slap in the face to all of that careful development. When Top had sex with Boston, the act alone seemed to confirm that Mew isn't enough for Top.

It's also worth noting just how quiet Top is in the last scene. He takes the blows, which is a good sign, compared to what we get from Boston. I compare this scene between Top and Mew with the one between Ray and Boston, where Ray admits to knowing about Boston and Top's hookup--Boston gets defensive immediately, rattling off excuses. But Top just takes the hits from Mew.

Top knows he was wrong. Boston knows that others think he's wrong, but I don't think he genuinely thinks there is anything wrong. He knows Mew won't get over it easily because that's just how Mew is--uptight, moralistic. Boston's own morals are incredibly loose, just like his approach to relationships. On the topic of morals, I'd say Boston and Mew's are on opposite sides of the spectrum.

BostonNick

Nick tries time and time again to be someone special to Boston, and time and time again Boston makes it clear that he doesn't care. From Boston telling Nick that he wants to spend time with him before he leaves, to harshly telling his friends that he isn't in a relationship with Nick--right in front of Nick--is just heartbreaking. (Seriously, the scene of Mew kicking Boston into the pool can't come soon enough.)

We get some insights into Boston's upbringing with the introduction of his father, who seems to possess a very similar mindset to Boston's. I could go on a whole other rant about this, but Boston approaches everything loosely because he thinks he won't face pressing consequences. He's going to leave the country, so if he screws some people over and makes some enemies, what's the harm? He'll be gone soon enough anyway.

I could also go on a rant about the glaring hypocrisy of Boston saying he can't be friends with someone who would record him...I go back and forth between thinking he's a cunning manipulator and a stupid college kid. Surely he must see the hypocrisy there...but if he does, he probably doesn't care (as with most things).

I've compared Nick to Sand before, but Nick has been shut down by Boston on countless occasions, and yet he still stays. For Boston, who has proven time and time again that he enjoys manipulating people, ruining relationships, recording his friends, and sleeping around. Nick knows all of this all too well. And yet.

Nick, I'm starting to lose some sympathy for you. Leave. Him.

[inevitablemoment]

My Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire Experience

First, I just want to say.... HOLY CRAP, I had so much fun! I have waited for this movie for so long, and while there are a few things that I were waiting for that didn't happen, it still lived up to the hype.

Spoilers under the cut.

So, my parents and I saw this in an MXC theater at our local Marquee. The seats were recliners that went back and forth with a button, and I loved that. But the sound system was... very loud. Let's just say, it's like if an audio version of 3D and THX had a baby. It was cool, but I didn't like that. And there were a lot more room in the aisles than their standard theaters.

The previews were surprisingly short, which was a relief. I have been waiting for this movie for MONTHS!

So, first, THAT CHASE SCENE AT THE BEGINNING!

It's no secret how much I love Callie, and seeing her as a Ghostbuster makes me so happy.

When Phoebe called her mother "Callie," my heart dropped a little and I just knew that we were in for a rocky ride.

Hearing that familiar staccato motif just put a smile on my face... which then turned into tears when Egon was mentioned.

But knowing that the music video for the title song is in-canon as well is fucking hilarious.

Ah, Dickless. I did NOT miss you.

Also, how did Peck get elected mayor? He is probably the most unlikable character in the Ghostbusters universe. But then again, a certain someone involved in many legal battles was elected President, so why should I question it?

I LOVE the domesticity of the firehouse scene; dinner, movie night, laundry, all the background.

Also, there's something hot about Callie wearing her flightsuit as pants with the top half tied up.

"GHOST DOG!"

"We both got some action." "Yeah, we did." Okay, already, this film has solidified my love for Callie and Gary as a couple. I am soft for them.

Gary trying to be tough and then apologizing instantly.

Callie Spengler laughs and it cleared my acne.

I know that they're trying to stop the containment unit from blowing, but PHYSICAL CONTACT!

Also, Callie is surprisingly BUFF. Can she hold me, please?

RAY STANTZ, MY SWEET BOY!

He's all but adopted Podcast, he just needs the paperwork.

"The hammer gets the views."

Honestly, I think the Stay-Puft company should just go defunct, with all of the paranormal shit.

JANINE, MY GIRL! SHE'S BACK!

Callie lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone while sipping a drink is a whole ass mood.

Poor Trevor... but goddamn, it's still as funny now as it was forty years ago.

That longing look on Ray's face as the Ecto passed by the shop...

I did not have "Phoebe Spengler likes girls" on my bingo card for this movie, but... I love it.

Part 2 will be coming soon. I just don't think that I can fit in everything that I loved about this movie into one post.