#this is pure crack because like. i genuinely refuse to believe someone can ACTUALLY be this drunk but

[coffeebanana]

🐕‍🦺for the summary

A drunken game of Twister somehow lands Marinette in Adrien's bed. And there's cuddling. The sort that feels like maybe it's leading to something a little less than platonic. So when an Akuma interrupts the fun, Marinette is NOT about to let Hawk Moth win. Not tonight. This would have been a lot easier if she'd remembered to transform.

"Come on, Adrien." She yanked his hand harder as they raced down the stairs. This would have been so much easier if she could just carry him, but superpowers or not, she didn't exactly trust her coordination right now. "We just need to get to the--fuck!"

Skidding to a stop on the landing between the second floor and the lobby, Marinette stared in horror at the purple smoke that was already creeping through the cracks around the door below. They'd been too slow. It was time for plan B.

Letting go of Adrien's hand (regretfully), she reached for the yo-yo hooked to her--wait. why was it in a pocket? Why did her suit have pockets?

Well, probably for the same reason her transformation had given her a fuzzy onesie and slippers in the place of her usual transformation. Tikki must have been affected by her drunkenness.

None of that mattered so long as she could still do her job and get Adrien to safety. Smoke was quickly filling the landing below, but it hadn't yet reached the hole in the middle of the staircase, which extended to the parking lot floors below. All they had to do was drop down there and they'd be able to find a new exit.

Marinette tossed her yo-yo towards the bannister, frowning as she watched it in midflight. Even her weapon didn't look the way it usually did. It was red, sure. But it lacked its usual spots. And as for ease of handling...it crashed to the floor half a metre away from its destination.

Ugh. Apparently she was going to have to do this the hard way. She bent down to pick up the yo-yo, and was about manually wrap it around the bannister when Adrien grabbed her wrist.

"Marinette, I'm not sure--" Adrien broke off when she whirrled around to face him.

"Adrien, I know you're scared."

"Oh. I'm not actually--"

"But you have nothing to worry about. You're safe with me." She stepped closer, raising a hand to cup his cheek. She had to keep herself from licking her lips at the tiny gasp he let out. There would be time to explore whatever that meant later. "You're always safe with me."

His gaze softened, and he gave a small chuckle. "And normally, I wouldn't doubt that. But..."

Marinette dropped her hand, frowning. Why was there a but? She was freaking Ladybug! And even if she weren't, she'd still find his lack of faith insulting.

He certainly hadn't looked at her that way earlier, when she'd had to crawl underneath him to place her right hand on green.

...

thanks for the ask!! 💜

[kaladinkholins]

yall i just KEEP doing back to mizu and taigen's wrestling scene in master eiji's forge and like i know that taigen literally got a boner from it BUT THE THING IS out of all the scenes these two have together, this scene actually has the least sexual tension ?!? cuz like the boner aside, this scene is actually very soft and emotions-driven rather than pure passion or lust.

arguably, a more passionate and sexually-charged scene would be their previous brawl in the snow with the chopsticks, which is tense and angry and also the scene that mizu thinks about when madame kaji talks about being honest with one's innermost desires.

but THIS scene in the forge? warm colours. their laughter and their smiles that both equally genuine. the WAY taigen looks at mizu in that scene, staring first at her lips, her smile, then looking into her eyes. and you can see by the framing of the scene and the look on his face that he is, for the first time, seeing her eyes as something beautiful rather than off-putting or frightening.

like before this point he's already come to not only respect mizu as a person and an equal but also admires her as an incredible swordsman and as someone who is kind and honourable* for having saved his life at the expense of her revenge quest. so as of the time of them tussling in the forge, taigen has already put aside his prejudices about mizu's blue eyes and no longer finds them as any cause for disgust. but in this scene he's not just indifferent about her eyes, but attracted too it.

and i'd also like to argue that his boner is not from the physical exertion or the act of wrestling itself, but from the intimacy of a playful spar, enjoying each other's easy company after having established a deep trust with each other (taigen endured torture for mizu and helped defend her from archers in the chasm while mizu saved his life from fowler's castle)

and all this while in the safety of mizu's childhood home while both of them are still recovering from near-death, amplifying their vulnerability with each other.

like when was the last time mizu cracked a genuine smile, let alone a laugh that's more than a little wry chuckle?? and for this to happen at such a low point in her life also speaks to the comfort this little friendly spar gives her.

because like, this is after she failed her mission to kill fowler. meanwhile her sword--the embodiment of her soul--is broken, and ringo who is her closest confidant is now angry at her and barely even looks at her. it just further lends to the inherent tenderness and intimacy in this scene. and i just. AHHHH i love them your honour....

* ALSO as a side note about taigen believing mizu to be honourable: he later realises that this assumption turns out to be quite false when she reveals that she'd not only allowed akemi to be taken away against her will but also has said nothing about fowler's impending attack on edo. also i find it very interesting that out of the two revelations, taigen is less angered by mizu letting akemi being married off (he sighs angrily and marches off saying he has to go to edo to find akemi), but much more angered by mizu's refusal to save the shogun and the shogunate as a whole. this is more proof that taigen's central principles are firmly rooted in the bushido and the concept of honour that comes with that. it's why he lashes out at mizu. because he'd believed mizu to be honourable and righteous, but was proven wrong. that's not to say that taigen is in the right for calling mizu a demon, not by any means. but i just find it a very interesting part of his character and it relates to his relationship and perception of mizu

also while rewatching the episode i found this very funny they just lyin there in the cart like this 🧍🏽‍♂️🧍🏽‍♂️

[lovelybarnes]

stood up- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, anderson x reader (?) warnings: angst, getting stood up, language, unrequited feelings about: prompts (DA29) “i got stood up.” + (DF30) “i think you’re my soulmate.” +(DF41) “are you going to cry? please don’t cry. a/n: i love to hurt but dw it’s a happy ending, i actually like this fjsk, a the time i finished this, i just posted another imagine, so i can’t wait for you guys to read this one in a couple days

every passing second makes you hyperaware of all the sympathetic stares that are currently directed at you. the feeling of pity is enveloping you whole, wrapping you in a thin layer of shame that you think must be related to the careful makeup you caked on your face for this date. your recently manicured nails scratch at the tablecloth, trying to avoid your new expensive dress, deep midnight color clinging to your nervous self. teeth stress your dark wine bottom lip, anxious eyes darting across the restaurant.

with each face that enters the place, none of them being his, the presumption that he isn’t coming solidifies. with it, comes the embarrassment. you can feel the warnings of tears, already threatening to ruin the mascara you had applied so carefully, not bothering to choose the waterproof one because why would you be crying on your date?

you suppose it’s your own fault- how dare you attempt to get over bucky? how dare you trust the words of a shield agent? you pick at your nails, gathering up the courage to stand up and leave. your waitress, however, beats you to it, a faux apologetic look on her face. “oh, so you’ve been here for, like, half an hour and it seems no one is coming, and we kind of need the table, so…”

you hold back an uncomfortable cringe, nodding stiffly as you stand. “right. i’m sorry. i don’t need to… pay for the water, right?” you ask dumbly, ducking your head when she shakes her head condescendingly.

pushing the door open, you step into the brisk air of the night, clouded over with an uneasy disappointment that you’re sure is because of you. you stand for a second to look at the stars, realizing how pretty of a night this would be if you weren’t so damn frustrated. the upset hasn’t passed yet, although the beginnings of anger are peeking up in your stomach.

while you stare up at the moon, the universe decides your getting stood up wasn’t enough, choosing to gift you with cold droplets of water that make your mascara run. it’s unbelievable, you nearly scoff tearily.

you walk to your car then, the moonlight that should have been romantic when you walked out of the restaurant now only making you feel lonely. you don’t let the tears come yet, having enough pride to not let the smitten couples appreciating the romance of the rain see you cry, deciding to put that off until you’re in the quietness of your room.

you drive in the sound of the pattering rain, concentrated on keeping your breathing even so as to push back the tears, not wanting to have an accident on the way back home because your vision was clouded over with sadness.

-

the relief you feel when you arrive at the compound is immeasurable; the knowledge that all you have to do is walk quietly to your room, and you can release the pent up emotions that eat you whole is unbelievably satisfying. the horrible itching feeling that comes with the tears arrives again when you notice your reflection in the impressively clean windows of the stark compound. through the stains of your ruined makeup, you can see the remnants of how dolled up you were, how much time was spent with the intricate details that made you smile when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you swallow back the painful lump in your throat, opening the doors and sniffling at the dimly-lit room. your heels click tiredly on the floor, precious bracelet lightly jangling when you move. you can’t find it in yourself to care when you realize you’re dragging water inside, resigning to letting stark lecture you in the morning.

as you stand in the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor, the emotions you’ve pushed so far down decide to spring back up in the form of an overwhelming dejected exhaustion that makes you physically slump. you lean against the cool of the metal railing, shutting your eyes hard to avoid looking at yourself. you only pry your eyes open when you hear the soft ding of the elevator, surprised and once again embarrassed to see bucky standing between the open doors.

“y/n?” he asks quietly. his demeanor immediately changes when he takes you in, body softer in the way it always is when you’re with him. his reaction makes you fall deeper, which reminds you exactly why you were going on your failed date. you straighten, clearing your throat, “um- i have to get to my room.”

your voice is thin, heightening his worries and stopping you with a gentle hand to your arm before you step off the elevator, “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay?” he asks, and you nod blindly at all of his questions, realizing that the longer you stay with him- with his warm hand that you can’t help but lean into pressed against your cold arm- the more you really want to cry and scream because it’s not fair that he’s been given to you, yet you can’t have him, even if he has you.

“i’m fine,” you lie obviously, forcing your eyes again from his. “y/n, what happened? you’re clearly not fine,” bucky pushes, the hand on your arm beginning to rub stressed circles into your skin. you give up then, looking back at him. “i got stood up,” you say finally, words cracked. you shake your head, “and i just spent so much time on everything and-”

“that’s stupid. who would stand you up?” bucky interrupts, eyes genuinely confused while you scoff. “apparently anderson from security,” you respond bitterly, looking away. “he’s stupid, y/n. he has to be to not go to a date with you.”

you exhale frustratedly, “maybe not. maybe there’s something wrong with me and i’m the stupid one for even thinking someone would want to go out with me,” you countered. “hey, no, you are- you are amazing, y/n. amazing and stunning and intelligent and he missed his chance to be the luckiest guy in the world,” he insisted, gently pulling your attention back to him with a gentle hand on your cheek. you give him a watery laugh through the loud, unfair questions in your head: why don’t you love me like i love you, then?

you don’t realize the tears that run down the streaks of already ruined mascara until bucky points them out, wiping them away with his fingers, “no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he begs. you can’t help it, though, biting your lip to hold back your unrequited confessions of love.

“nobody wants me. i don’t even think i want me anymore,” you weep, oblivious to the breaking of bucky’s heart when he hears your words, pulling you flush against his chest. “don’t say that, doll. that’s not true-”

“it is. what other reasons can you think of that explain why i’m the only one that’s shown up to the rare dates i’ve been on? why have i had to go on those stupid dates just to forget how pathetic i am that i can’t get over you?”

you’re too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to realize what you’ve said, too little light available in the dark to let you realize the hints you have and will undoubtedly let out if you continue blubbering into bucky’s shoulder like the mess you are. your feelings are scattered, words so disorganized that any way you piece them together will be a mistake. “why else does the one person who i actually want to love me back not want me?”

bucky can make sense of the words you’re saying, the heavy weight they carry when he realizes exactly what they mean, and what you imply. he’s frozen, heart simultaneously fluttering at the mere thought of his feelings being returned and breaking at the cries you’re letting out because of him.

he’s refused to ever be the source of your pain, restricting his own poems of confessions because he didn’t want to hurt you, never wanting to be the reason you cried. he supposes now it was the wrong choice, one he needs to fix.

the bead of insecurity buried stubbornly in his mind shrieks, however, because he’s as clueless as you are and can’t possibly imagine someone like you- so kind and pure and good- loving him back. so he needs to make sure, needs to hear you say it in your voice.

“what?” you let out a watery scoff, full of embarrassment rather than annoyance at him, “don’t make me say it, bucky, please-”

“please say it- i- i need you to say it.”

a beat of silence passes before you sniffle, pulling away from the man you’ve called your best friend and wanted nothing but to be able to call him more. “i love you, bucky. in a way that makes me pretty sure you’re my soulmate because i don’t even believe in that but you make me feel like i should.”

bucky’s storm clouds lighten, doubts dissolving when he listens to what you said, tasting your words and examining each one just to remember it. he pulls your lips to his when they’ve barely processed. “you should,” he says when he pulls away for a second, only to make you lose your breath again when he aches for you immediately, kissing you again, “believe in soulmates.”

“why is that?” you ask breathlessly, letting him pull you back in because you both have been waiting- dreaming about this for so damn long, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep away from you now that he has you. he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, so perfectly imperfect when your teeth clash and you both laugh gently, noses nudging each other when he leans his forehead on yours, “because we’re meant to be, y/n. in that way that soulmates are.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 10

Summary: Haunted by her own mind, Y/N isn’t sure what to do with the information she uncovered. On the other hand, the Darkling felt a growing distance between them, allowing himself to admit something he never thought he’d say.

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, sexual innuendos 

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven // Part eight // Part nine   

=================================

A long time ago lived a young boy with the power of saints. He held the darkness at the tip of his fingers, capable of forcing the day into an eternal night. Back then, he made all the wrong choices for all the right reasons. To protect the ones he loves, he allowed the shadows to consume him. Cursed with immortality, he walked the earth ever since. Forever alone, hurt and betrayed, the Darkling's heart no longer beat as it turned to stone. No longer did he suffer, no longer did he feel pain or anything at all.

Until now.

There was no escape from emotions when he looked at her. Even in the darkness, she had the ability to set his world on fire.

A single badly made decision in a moment where everything feels more important than love can make your entire life feel like a failure. He would never make the same mistake again. 

This lifetime he gives to her – wholeheartedly.

When they stopped for the night, he had felt uneasy as Y/N conversed freely with everyone but him. It seemed like she’s on edge and not knowing why gnawed at him. Once night came and they settled in their tent, the Darkling couldn’t contain himself.

"I sense some...hostility."

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes, "Oh, how observant of you."

"What happened?” He asked, “Did someone at the Palace do something to you? Was it Genya?"

"And what if she did?” Tilting her head ever so slightly, she neared him. “What would you do?"

Without thinking, he answered, "I'd protect you."

Inhaling sharply, she raised an eyebrow. "And what if it was you?"

Pausing, his eyebrows furrowed as he unclenched his jaw. "Is it me?"

"If it was you who upset me, would that bother you?" Y/N pushed further, genuinely wondering if he cares for her as much as she thinks. After all, who’d believe the Darkling has a heart? She was still trying to convince herself it’s real when he kisses her temple when he thinks she’s fast asleep.

"Immensely."

With her hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes at him. "So, how would you protect me from yourself?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Aleksander ran his hand through his hair. "I'd let you decide."

Closing her eyes in frustration, her lower lip curled inwards as her front teeth sunk into the flesh. A part of her wanted to ask him about being the creator of the fold, but it was an advantage that would be unwise to let go of. 

"Why are you being so agreeable? Is it because I spread my legs for you now?"

"I've never known you to be so crude." The muscles in his jaw tighten as he squints at her and it’s taking everything in her not to smile because she absolutely loved when he’d look at her like that. It felt more natural than the soft, wistful looks he’d send her way.

"And I never realized you could be so easily tamed”, she remarks, her voice louder than before.

Chuckling in disbelief, the Darkling shrugs off his kefta without breaking eye contact. "You believe that you've tamed me?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shut her eyes. Her face is flushed, her head spinning and she has nothing concrete to tell him. She can’t make sense of anything anymore, the image of him in her head changing with every passing minute.

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

In two strides, Aleksander found himself before her. Cupping her cheeks, he tilts her head up to face him and when she opens her eyes, she’s lost in the universe that’s captured in his eyes. She loved the night sky littered with stars, but she never truly knew what it means to stargaze until she met him.

“I’ve discovered I love you.”

Raising her eyebrows, her jaw slacked. “When have you discovered that?” Her voice is high, tone defensive, but his smile grows because it wouldn’t be her if she didn’t fight him even when he’s trying to admit to something he long forgot exists.

“When all my decisions started to revolve around keeping you safe.”

Shaking, her eyes widened. “That’s impossible! You hate me!”

Placing a hand over her mouth, he used his other to press his index finger to his lips. “Shh”, he chuckles, “You’ll wake the others.”

Rolling her eyes, she licked his hand.

“Really? I’ve touched you in a way that made you scream long into the night”, he deadpans, “Your tongue can’t possibly disgust me.” Smirking, he leans in, “On the contrary.”

Slapping his hand away, she turned away from him. Grabbing her head, she sat down with her thoughts running so fast, too fast for her to pick one out to decide what she thinks, feels, wants.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her back flush against his chest. “I know you hate me now, but I’m a patient man. I won’t give up on you.”

He held her for a while, too long for either of them to realize the night had slowly trickled away from them and given way to dawn. Their journey wasn’t quite as long anymore. Soon enough, they’ll be at the fold and Y/N didn’t know what to do.

Should she tell him? Ask him for an explanation?

Would he kill her even if he said he loves her?

She still felt his kisses as he laid her down beside him. For the first time since they made love, they didn’t initiate any physical intimacy. Instead, they simply stared at one another.

She’s not for feeble minded people, there’s no doubt about it in his mind and if anything, Aleksander was more determined to love her because of it. She tested him in every way possible and while she was incredibly frustrating to argue with, Aleksander refused to give up on her. She’s difficult to understand to ordinary minds, but he isn’t ordinary.

His love will conquer in the end, he truly believed that. He could have continued on like nothing changed between them, but he could not be silent any longer. After all the time he’s spent in vein, all the years he wasted and lives he’s lived, Aleksander never found someone who gave him a reason to believe. Not until he met Y/N.

While she remained silent, stunned by his admission, he spoke of the day he first met Ivan and Fedyor. He spoke of their adventures, of their silly mistakes and she found herself smiling at first. Soon, she was laughing with him, and though she had no courage to admit it yet, she fell asleep thinking about him. Their knees were touching and her heart was racing, but the world never felt so right as it did when she was next to him.

Once on the road, she took the reins once again.

Kirigan ignored the whispers about her riding his horse, choosing to glare them into silence. No one dared to speak of it after.

Stopping a few miles short of their destination, Y/N drew a shuddered breath. The sight is hauntingly beautiful, a nightmare come alive. Swallowing thickly, a faint line formed between her eyebrows as they furrowed.

How could Aleksander be the Black Heretic? How is it possible for him to live so long?

“I’m here”, he whispers in her ear.

Goosebumps rise across the back of her neck as his warm breath dances across her skin. And there he is again, with her when she’s looking for solitude, offering his hand to hold and shoulder to lean on even when she least expects it. The worst thing is that she’s actually becoming dependent on his help and that scares her most of all, because what is she supposed to do when he decides he never did love her and all of it was simply an obsession fueled by her rejection. 

She’s still a novelty to him, that will wear off eventually.

“I’m not afraid”, she remarks, “I’m-“, she pauses in an attempt to find a better word, “Admiring it.”

“Admiring”, he repeats in surprise. “Most people find it absolutely terrifying.” 

She wondered if it frightened him. What would happen if he went in?

Turning her head to the side, she caught a glimpse of his parted lips. She felt ashamed how it caused her heartbeat to quicken, how it ached for a taste.

“I’m not most people”, she reminded him. And he knew that well. The Darkling would never fall for an ordinary woman.

“What I want to know is what went through his mind”, she grips the reigns tighter.

“Of the black heretic?”

Feeling his hands tighten around her waist, she nods. “I wish I knew what led to the creation of the fold. Why did he do it?”

“Maybe he just couldn’t help himself”, Aleksander’s voice is strained, “Maybe he’s just pure evil.”

Leaning the back of her head on his shoulder, she looked up at him. She longed for him, for an earnest conversation with their souls laid bare, but would she live long if she unveiled what her mind’s been tormented by?

“I don’t believe that”, she says softly.

Their eyes meet in an instant, the closeness forcing them both to hold their breath and look at each other silently. Looking at her, he touched her cheek gently with the back of his hand.

“Why give him the benefit of doubt?”

Aleksander’s free hand gently moves along her arm, finding its rightful place at the side of her neck, touching her skin so tenderly she felt blissful and it reminded her of that night where he unraveled her, made her scream in pleasure she never found before.

There was no denying it, Y/N had a weakness for his hand on her neck and his words in her heart, neither of which she had any willpower to refuse, especially not when she couldn’t breathe when he looked at her with such longing, shameful lust and indisputable passion and understanding.

It took everything in her to find the strength to speak again without her voice cracking under the pressure of her own emotions. 

“Because darkness doesn’t equate evil, just as light doesn’t equate good.”

Without a warning, he kissed her fiercely, violently, leaving her raw. She didn’t move away, she didn’t make a sound. All she did was close her eyes and part her lips and in that fraction of a second, she allowed herself to get lost in the beauty of a lover’s touch for when his lips claimed hers, nothing mattered anymore.  

When he broke away, she was breathless and undeniably his.

“What was that for?” She raised an eyebrow, a shadow of a smile forming on her bruised lips.

She shuddered, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip ruthlessly as Aleksander’s breath caressed her skin. It felt so right, too right to resist his advances. She lived for those long nights in their bed, those thick with lust and romance and naked kisses.

Aleksander shrugs, “I wanted to.”

Lips parted, she didn’t know what to do with that. He told her he loves her, that he’d wait for her to love him back and most women would fall at his feet. Something inside her refused to do so. To admit her feelings out loud would be the end of her. 

If she allows herself to love him fully, how could she possibly be the cause of his downfall? 

What would be left of her if she took his love and used it against him in the most cruel way possible?

She’s losing who she is around him, but it hurt so much more to reject his love. Hating him, pretending her heart isn’t a feeble muscle where he resides is exhausting.

Truth is, he doesn't make her feel safe or comfortable as she once believed a man should. He makes her feel like she's teetering at the edge of a cliff and she's getting addicted to that feeling. She’s getting addicted to him – his scent, his touch, his handsome smile and devilish smirk and most of all to the way his darkness drives away her demons.

Love has to come at once, with thunder and lightning like a hurricane that wreaks havoc on your life, to shake you up and break the heart like leaves off trees, to drag it into the abyss - abyss he created. 

She used to fear the dark, but now she found herself running into it.

In that moment, she smiled. 

Perhaps the darkness is not so bad if he’ll be there, holding her hand.

=============================

A/N - So, I literally wrote this in about two hours and I’m about to pass out. I wanna thank you for Eid Mubarak responses and especially for the feedback, I was just reading through them and they made my day so much better. I’m seeing some interesting theories too, some paragraphs you loved or just thoughts about the characters and IT GIVES ME LIFE. I’m so, so grateful for it all.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon  @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06  @whatthefluffrichard @aami98 @britriestbr @itsfangirlmendes @padme-parker @readingsssssssss @runawayolives @thehighladyofasgard @emlynblack @keithseabrook27 @dailydoseofchoices @deceivedeer @olympiacosplay @pansysgirlfriend @extrakyloren  @daybleedsintonightfa11 @thoughts-and-funnies @weirdowithnobeardo @folkloresworld @remugoodgirl​ 

PART 11

[dinsbeskar]

First Time | Darth Maul x Reader

Rating: Teen (fluff with one sex reference)

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Maul has never heard "I love you". Well, there's a first time for everything.

Warnings/tags: angst, miscommunication, mutual pining, fluff, declarations of love, references to sex offscreen, gender neutral reader (no references to gender)

The first time you tell Maul you love him, it slips out and you want the ground to swallow you up.

“I’m leaving.” You regret breaking the previously comfortable silence as he barely looks up from his datapad, nodding softly.

You stand abruptly, surprised he has nothing more to say.

“Really?  That’s it, no asking why or where I’m going?” Your voice is threatening to break, stars, don’t break in front of him.

“Why would I?  You don’t need my permission,” he says with a slight tone of annoyance, brows furrowed as he tries to concentrate on the current uprising in the syndicate.

“Right.  Okay.  Guess I’ll see you around then.”  You turn to leave, tears pricking your eyes.

You can’t believe he’s being so cavalier, not that you imagine he feels the same way about you but you had hoped-

“And what is that supposed to mean?” He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I have neither the time nor patience for dramatics, if you want me to follow you-"

“That’s the thing, I don’t, I can’t-"

“Can’t what?” His anger is building now, something is wrong but one of you is being obtuse and he can’t tell which.

“I can’t stay!” You’re trembling, wanting so badly to stay, to stay with him, but pining for a Sith Lord is hard work. “I can’t stay here, I’m taking my ship and leaving Mandalore, Maul, I’m sorry.”

His hearts drop to the pit of his stomach, suddenly a black expanse through which they keep falling- how could you leave?  He really thought maybe this once... no, everyone leaves in the end, it was only a matter of time.

He’s on his feet without a thought, nails biting into his palm to keep himself grounded.  His lips draw back in a snarl, an expression you’d seen countless times but never directed at you.  Your chest aches and your palms sweat  but you stand your ground.

“Then leave, I’d hate to think I were keeping you here against your will, you must have so many pressing appointments.” Sorrow has quickly turned to rage and he needs you to leave before he does something he’ll regret.

“You know that’s not the case, don’t be so kriffing cruel.  Force, if I’d realised how you truly felt sooner I’d have left sooner, I do apologise, my Lord.” Your words come out harsher than you mean them, laced with spite in retaliation.

“Cruel?  You haven’t seen cruel, get out before that changes.” He’s shaking too now, desperately trying to control every urge to scream and rage until you’ve gone.  Abandoned again, no, he is fear, he is hunter, he is nothing.

You can feel his rage rolling off him in waves as he paces the hall, looking anywhere but at you.  Why would he care so much?  You’ve never truly known what goes on his head, but you assumed he was fairly indifferent towards you.  Yes, he tolerates your presence more than the others in court, allowed you to get a little closer than most too, the only one he would ever request to join him aside from his brother.  And it wasn’t as if you hadn’t shared his bed a few times, but you had assumed that was boredom, a way to pass the time for both of you.  He wasn’t the type to get attached and you knew that, fought your own feelings, there was no way they would ever be returned.  Unless-

“I can’t believe I loved you.” You’re taking a chance, gambling on the possibility that his anger has something more to it, force, please have something more to it, this was such a risky move.

He stops his pacing, still refusing to even glance at you, but his black towering rage becomes slightly less black.  Very, very, dark grey.

“What did you say?” Is that hope you detect?

You clench your jaw a little and reply, “I loved you.  It was foolish, I see that now.”

He starts to pace again, less in a temper though, more out of the confusion written all over his face.  It couldn’t be.  And even if it were, you said loved, past tense.  Cue the longest, most tense silence you’d ever experienced, during which all you could do was stand there nervous, so nervous, nausea building as you watch him pace back and forth, wringing your hands a little.

“Maul, please say something, anything,” you hate pleading like this but he won’t be the one to break the silence, having to admit everything he’s thinking, feeling, terrified that you really will leave when he says the wrong thing.

He seems to choose his words carefully, still not looking at you, refusing to look because if he looks he’ll break.

“You said... loved.  You... loved me.  Why did you say nothing?” It comes out as a whisper, almost as if to himself.

“How could I?  We’re... friends, aren’t we?  At least you have me around when you don’t really need me-"

“I do need you.” He’s louder this time but not by much, you’re not even sure you heard him right.

“What?” You need him to say it again, need to hear it a thousand times more.

He turns and finally looks into your eyes, expression softening instantly when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks.  He wants to brush them away, to hold your face and tell you he wants you by his side, that you can’t leave him, to make you promise to never leave.

“I need you.  And if you no longer feel the same, I understand.”  He can’t hold your gaze, he tries but a heat rises in him that any other being would identify as embarrassment.

Your eyebrows crease in astonishment, a smile working its way to your lips, threatening to crack your face in half.  Need.  Need would do.

“I’d follow you to the ends of the galaxy if you asked me to.”

His hearts skip a beat or three as you speak, a pressure building in his chest that feels so warm, so kriffing pure, he’s never felt anything like it.

“I love you, and I’ll keep loving you, and if you have to hear it again and again, I’ll keep telling you, until you’re sick of hearing it, until you beg me to stop.”

“Go on then,” he says, his features so soft your heart melts. “Tell me again.”

“I love you,” you huff a laugh, small and quietly ecstatic, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Placing emphasis on every single word, huffing a laugh as you do so, enjoying seeing him melt at your words.  Bringing a Lord of the Sith, former as he would so often remind you, to his knees could soon become a much beloved pastime, judging by the warmth that envelops you every single time you tell him how you feel.

He’s scarcely able to believe it, even after hearing it from your lips so many times, that he might no longer be nothing, that he might actually be something to someone like you.  He whispers your name in reverence, like a prayer that keeps you spellbound and breathless.

You reach out for him, hand on his chest while the other searches for his hand to hold, to reassure him that it’s okay.  He holds onto you like you’ll disappear, dissolve through his fingers into the ether, and you pull him closer and sigh into his chest.  He lifts your face with a finger and actually smiles.  You’ve only seen him smile a handful of times and it’s not always because he’s happy, not that he knows what happy means.  It’s warm and genuine and content, you’ve never seen such a sight and it reignites the ache in your chest, that you’re sure can only be quelled by one thing.

When his mouth claims yours, everything burns, warm and bright and glowing, an unmistakable feeling that, well, it feels like home.

[sevlgi]

i think i love you

requested: no

group: red velvet

pairing: yeri x fem!reader (feat irene)

genre: fluff, angst

contents: unrequited love, sad christmases. 

warnings: none

synopsis: One time you said it to the wrong person, three times you couldn’t say it aloud, and the last time you ever needed to be sorry for loving someone.

a/n: i hope you enjoy, and have yourself a very merry christmas 💖i may or may not be projecting with this fic, so uh... ignore that.

word count: 4.2k

“Oh come on, come on, come on!”

You panted harder than you ever had before as you ran through the train station, feet thudding against the ground in a way that wasn’t graceful in the slightest. Your knuckles where white with how you clutched your car keys in your hand, and your eyes scanned the station for the petite figure you were looking for.

To your dismay, not a single person had the dark waves cascading down their back, nor the peachy sweater and jeans that you remembered Joohyun to be wearing when she left the apartment. There wasn’t a white Chanel bag in sight, and certainly no unfairly beautiful face either.

But there-- a couple feet ahead of you, the same outfit you remembered, or at least a similar one. A white bag, a petite figure growing closer and closer as you ran closer at top speed.

And a collision, an unflattering “oof” escaping you as you hit the person you believed to be your crush of years. “I think I love you,” you blurted without even seeing Joohyun’s face, stumbling back when the girl who turned back was decidedly not her.

Had you not been so hung up on the older girl, you would’ve realized that the body you collided with was just as beautiful, that the smile on the stranger’s face was just as charming. “Uh. Wrong person?” she offered, cocking her head.

All of a sudden, you realized that her hair was too short, too straight to be Joohyun. She was probably a bit shorter, and her sweater wasn’t peach at all, more of a light pink color. “I-- I am so sorry,” you gasped, ducking down in a bow. “Oh my god, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“I figured,” the stranger laughed. “Joohyun. That’s a girl’s name, isn’t it?”

When you hesitated to answer, apprehension about Korea’s conservative history obviously showing in your expression, she reassured you with her hands held up in the air, “I’m not homophobic, promise. Won’t jump you.”

“Yeah. She’s-- well. I love her.”

Rather than responding, she held her hand out to you to shake, fingers warm and surprisingly strong against yours. “Cool. I’m Yerim, but a lot of my friends just call me Yeri.”

“Yeri. Got it.” You attempted to smile back, still fearing that Yeri would hit you back or something. (Okay, unrealistic, but you had expected a K-drama moment with your crush in the train station. You were born unrealistic.) “Uh, I’m Y/N.”

Yeri nodded, checking her phone with a nonchalance that lead you to think that strangers hit her and confessed their love to her on the daily. “Right. Hey, could I ask you a favor? You can totally say no.”

There was no way you could refuse a chance to assuage your own guilt, and you didn’t really want to chase after Joohyun when her train was probably already gone, so you shrugged. “Sure, give it a shot.”

The girl smiled, nodding at the keys still fisted in your hand. “Could you drive me somewhere? I’d ask my friend, but I don’t really trust her to drive.”

“You’d rather go with a possible murderer than ask your friend to drive you?” you joked, face blanching when you realized what it implied. “I’m not-- that was a joke, by the way. I’m not a murderer.”

“If you knew Seulgi, you’d understand,” Yeri snickered, tugging her bag behind her in the direction that you came from. “So, is that a yes?”

It wasn’t smart-- that much was obvious. The smart thing to do would’ve been to call Joohyun before she left the station, to beg her to come back instead of letting her leave with a hatred for you permanently instilled into her heart. But smart was never your forte.

You jogged over to Yeri, pulling her in the actual direction of your car with a grin and an offer to pull her luggage for her. “It’s this way.”

Driving a random stranger home from the only train station in town shouldn’t have resulted in anything. You should’ve just dropped her off at the house she was staying at for the rest of the year, then driven off to moan about your terrible luck in love to Sooyoung.

But instead, Yeri didn’t close the door of the car immediately, peering inside at you with the curious smile on her face that you’d come to like over the 30-minute car ride. “Well? Are you coming? Seulgi wants to vet you.”

“Uh. Sure.” You locked the car behind you, hefting up the girl’s remaining luggage as the front door swung open, another girl rushing out to hug Yeri fiercely.

“Yerim, you little shit! How could you just ask a stranger to drive you home instead of me?” she whined, pouting down at the grinning girl you’d driven home. Seulgi, you assumed, was pretty-- unique monolids, wispy bangs, and a full mouth setting her apart from most girls you tended to see in your hometown. 

“In my defense, you’re a horrible driver, unnie,” Yeri answered, prying herself out of Seulgi’s grip. She beckoned you over, taking the suitcase from your hands with a grunt. “Seulgi unnie, Y/N. Y/N, Seulgi unnie. Oh. I don’t know if she’s an unnie for you...” she frowned.

You half-expected Seulgi to maim you (again, unrealistic), but she tugged you into a hug that could’ve easily cracked a rib or two. “Thank you for driving Yeri home,” she smiled when she pulled away. “I’m offended on her comments about my driving skills, but that’s not your fault. Come in?”

Going inside for a cup of coffee ended up being about 5 hours of playing video games with the two girls, and laughing harder than you had for a good year or so. Indeed, it was the most you’d forgotten about Joohyun for a while, and it would be a lie to say that it wasn’t a relief.

You only came back to Earth when Sooyoung called you in a panic. “Y/N, Joohyun said that she’s already back in Daegu. You didn’t stop her?”

“Oh.” You glanced back to Seulgi and Yeri, hitting each other with the remote controls on the couch as Mario Kart’s winning page played triumphant music. “I... I didn’t get to her in time. I’m sorry.”

Sooyoung sighed over the line, voice tinny. “Don’t be sorry. Joohyun’s always been stubborn. Did you at least get to tell her? You know, that you lo--”

“I didn’t,” you cut your best friend off, lips thinning. You didn’t want to think about Joohyun or her rejection of your feelings, not when it had been the only thing on your mind for a good couple of years. “Sorry, Sooyoung. I gotta go, but I’ll be home soon.”

Without giving her a chance to speak, you hung up. It wasn’t her fault, of course, but it got annoying sometimes to be constantly reminded that you had to be honest sometime in your life. “I think I should go,” you smiled sheepishly at Yeri, tucking your phone away. “But thank you for today.”

“Hey, gimme that,” she suddenly called, reaching for your phone. Confused, you handed the unlocked device to her. “Okay, I’m saving myself as Yeri. You better not forget my name, because I’m texting you,” she warned, smiling wide when she handed it back.

A surprisingly genuine smile was directed at her as you accepted your phone, now with a cute selfie of Yeri as the profile picture of a brand new contact. Bowing to Seulgi, you grabbed your bag from the rack by the door. “See you soon, I guess?”

“Bye, Y/N!” the oldest girl called out, waving excitedly all the way until the front door locked behind you.

Taking a deep breath of cold night air, you pressed your fingers to your sternum to try and quell the beats of your heart. As you unlocked the door to your car and slid into an icy driver’s seat, you were hit with the longing to go back, back inside a warm living room filled with the laughter of two people who had no business being so welcoming towards you. 

But you turned the key and switched the radio to a loud song that echoed inside the vehicle when you drove away. There was no warmth in your life, as you had to remind yourself, and you couldn’t get used to any, in case it made you let go of the only person you held close.

It seemed that Yeri existed purely to shock you, as you were pleasantly surprised by her call a week following the strangest occurrence of your life. 

For the first silent week, you were oddly disappointed that she didn’t contact you. Some lingering hope for friendship, you assumed, was behind it all, and you did your best to brush it aside at work. You didn’t tell Sooyoung about Yeri’s existence at all, for fear that it’d backfire on you when she ultimately left you alone.

Instead, she called you in the middle of grocery shopping. “Hello?” you frowned, holding the phone to your ear without checking the caller name.

“Y/N! Did I catch you at a bad time?” Yeri asked, voice just as cheery as you remembered it to be. It was odd how much just hearing her made you perk up.

“Oh, not at all.” You set a bag of chips down and switched ears, moving to a quieter section of the supermarket. “What’s up?”

Yeri hummed slightly, rustling around. “Well, I was going to ask if you’re up for a movie night. I’m bored today, and Seulgi’s off visiting her girlfriend. Do you have anything to do?”

Movie nights reminded you of being a teenager, watching dumb movies off the internet with your friends and shrieking at kiss scenes. Suffice to say, you missed it, and Yeri seemed like the perfect person to forget about all responsibilities with. “Nothing at all,” you grinned, heading towards the alcohol section. “By the way, what kind of wine do you like?”

“I hate the Titanic,” Yeri sniffled, popping another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Jack’s stupid. Rose should find a wife and live happily ever after.”

“A wife?” you laughed, rolling over just to shove the girl. “In that time period? Unrealistic, Yerim, settle for bondage like the rest of us.”

She pouted, tilting her head to face you as well. The slight smell of alcohol on her breath mingled spicy-sweet with sugared popcorn, her flawless skin flushed pink. “Come on, don’t deny you want Rose to get a pretty wife too.”

You rolled your eyes, looking up at Rose hanging onto her board again. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“If I were Rose and you were Jack, I’d save you,” Yeri promised with a laugh, grinning when you looked at her with an incredulous look on your face. “I’m serious! Come on, the both of us could easily fit on that stupid board.”

“It’d sink,” you protested. “Didn’t you say you were good at math and stuff?”

“Math,” she pointed at the screen, “has nothing to do with gay expectations of movies.”

When she laid her head back down, under the makeshift blanket fort you’d made together to ward against the night’s chilliness, her nose almost brushed up against yours, Yeri’s eyes sparkling with the light from Seulgi’s flatscreen TV. “You’re right again,” you admitted just to stop staring at the other girl, flipping onto your stomach to watch the movie. “You’re right.”

It should’ve been awkward, but the girl just grappled for her phone, earning a kick from you when the screen was too bright in a pitch black room. “I want takeout. Are you with me or against me, Y/N?”

You suffocated her with a pillow, snatching the phone to set your own order. “Depends. Are you going to steal my fried chicken?” you demanded, laughing when Yeri smacked you with the pillow herself. “Answer the question!”

“You pay, and I won’t,” she promised, holding her arms up to protect her head. “Oh, it’s on!”

When you collapsed under the half-collapsed blanket fort, sweaty with an order of fried chicken displayed on Yeri’s phone screen and the credits to Titanic rolling, you felt a phrase on your tongue that you hadn’t said since the train station. When Yeri smiled at you, you felt your lips parting to let the words out, and you felt your hand clamping over the 5 words you had already told her by mistake.

It was too fast, too intense to be real. Unlike the 5 years it had taken you to realize you loved Joohyun, it took two hangouts and one chaotic car ride for you to feel something that could burn you up from the inside if you weren’t careful.

I think I love you.

“I hope you like kimbap, because I am the Kimbap Destroyer!”

You chuckled as you shut the door to the apartment you shared with Sooyoung, said roommate nowhere to be found as a crash sounded from your kitchen. “How’d you get in, Yeri? Picked the lock?”

The girl appeared with rice-sticky gloves still on, freshly dyed hair tied up in a ponytail for cleanliness. “Joy let me in on her way out. Is that her real name, by the way?” she asked, returning to the kimbap rolls laid out on your counter. “She’s really pretty.”

“Hey, no simping for my roommate,” you protested, something bubbling at the back of your throat despite Yeri’s joking tone. You hugged her from behind as you knew she liked it, reaching over to snack on some of the extra seaweed. “Besides, isn’t she too old for you?”

“Says you, in love with a girl years older,” Yeri protested. When you fell silent, though, she winced at her own insensitiveness. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have joked like that.”

You shrugged it off, peeling your work jacket off. “No problem. I should be over her by now anyway, she hasn’t talked to me or Sooyoung since the train station. Months. She obviously doesn’t give a shit about me.”

Yeri frowned at that, staring at the back of your head as you looked out the kitchen window. “Hey. You know that isn’t true. And if it was, I’ll have you know that plenty of people care about you. Me, Joy, Seulgi, and all of your friends.”

Turning around with a grin on your face that didn’t convince the other girl for a second, you slung your arm around her shoulders. “Wow, Kim Yerim, when did this turn into soft hours? Love you too~”

She let the subject go, throwing a leftover radish stick at you. “Is it time for love already? You’ve only known me for four months, do you always move this fast?”

No, you wanted to respond. No, I usually take years. But you’re an exception, a stupid exception that’s wormed your way into my heart.

Putting Yeri into a halfhearted headlock, you joked, “I’m basically a U-Haul lesbian. By this time, I expected us to already have kids, or at least a cat or two.”

Once she kicked you away, though, you felt the smile on your face falter, looking at this random girl who made you care about her so much making kimbap in your kitchen.

I think I love you.

You swayed at a side to fend from the December wind, hands stuffed deep into your coat pockets as Seulgi hung onto Yeri. Standing just a few feet away, Wendy and Sooyoung talked quietly, smiling at the sight of their friends.

It shouldn’t have been a somber occasion in any way; all that was happening was Yeri flying back home to spend the winter holidays with her family. But somehow, it was like the end of the world, Seulgi still talking in Yeri’s ear as you waited for your own turn. 

“Go on, Y/N,” Seulgi urged, shivering in the windbreaker she wore. Her girlfriend enveloped her in a hug, Wendy’s petite frame making the sight almost comical. “Say goodbye.”

“She isn’t going off to the military,” you laughed, making your way over anyway. Yeri held her arms out for a hug, her hair whipping around like a tornado around her. Despite your words, you accepted the embrace, gloved hands lingering on the small of her back as you buried your nose into her shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Yeri giggled, twisting back and forth to make the hug a little less serious. “Like you said, I’m not going off to the military. I’ll be back before you know it, though I am sad that I don’t get to spend Christmas with you and our friends this year.”

“Mm.” You didn’t want to let go, and thankfully, Yeri didn’t mind, her humming vibrating through your body. “You have a good time with your sisters. Eat something nice, spend time with your family, and have fun.”

“Why do you sound sad?” she whispered in your ear, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. “I told you, I’ll be back before you know it.”

When you pulled away, you were struck with the sight of her, nose cherry red in the icy Seoul weather. The cloudy sky was a good lighting for her, though Yeri would look beautiful in any setting, and the look in her eyes stirred something sweet deep in your heart. “I know,” you sighed, bringing your hands up to your nose for warmth.

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” Yeri asked, wetting her lips slightly.

And of course, the answer was yes. After just a couple months of friendship, you already wanted to ruin it with that treacherous heart of yours, wanted to press your mouth to hers and thank her for all the unwarranted kindness she showed you. But you shook your head, stepping back to allow Seulgi to hug Yeri one more time before you had to leave.

She walked backwards into the airport just to wave to you, the grin on her face never fading. Sooyoung linked her arm in yours to tug you away when it was time, whispering, “Are you sure there isn’t something you wanted to say?”

I think I love you.

“I’m sure,” you sighed, breath forming a white dragon before your face. “I’m sure.”

Christmas stopped being fun for you at age 10, from what you remembered.

As soon as you became aware that Santa Claus was a lie, the holiday changed from being the most magical time of year to a 2 week break from school, or work, or both. It became the time to miss your family, to miss the childhood that wasn’t great but was a million times better than your adult life.

Joohyun was the one to make the holidays better ever since you met her. She was always able to somehow lighten the mood with a ticket to Lotte World, or a freshly baked gingerbread house for you to decorate and then smash. She hated making snow angels but always participated, tossing snow at you just to see that bright smile on your face.

But last year, that all changed. Last year, as soon as Joohyun knew that you felt something for her other than friendship, everything you built together crumbled down.

It was nothing against the fact that you were both girls; Joohyun had had girlfriends before, and she was always the one pushing you to date and get out of your comfort zone. However, for some reason, she couldn’t even contemplate the thought of being with you romantically.

She ran away that year, too, left you alone in your tiny, cold apartment during what was once again the worst time of year. She went back to her sister’s restaurant in Daegu, and came back after New Year’s like nothing changed. But of course it did; your friendship was irreparable, torn to pieces just like your heart. As the awkwardness between you stretched both of you thin, she completely moved out, switching roommates with Sooyoung before declaring that she was moving back to Daegu for good.

Christmas was even more ruined for you than it ever had been, and the only reason you still put up a Christmas tree was for Sooyoung, who still enjoyed the holiday. Your roommate was the only reason that a tree twinkled in the corner of the room, right next to the TV that played a stupid Hallmark movie in the middle of the night.

You expected for her to never come back. Why would she, after all? With her beautiful face and perfect personality, she could easy find someone new. A girl who possessed all the good qualities you didn’t have, a girl who lacked all the bad qualities you did have.

Nevertheless, when you heard a familiar knocking pattern on your apartment door, you knew who it was. And you knew that you didn’t have to get up from the couch to unlock the door for the former owner of the apartment, knew that you didn’t have to see her face to start crying.

“Y/N?”

“Joohyun,” you responded listlessly, not bothering to turn around as you heard the front door shut softly. “You’re back.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, appearing just as beautiful in your peripheral vision. God, you hated how your lungs seized at the sound of her voice, how many memories you could recall. “I’m so sorry for leaving you behind, and for making you feel... like this.”

Spite fueled you to raise an eyebrow, turning back to face her in the hopes that it pained her as much as it did you. “Sooyoung told you?” At the older girl’s nod, you scoffed, “She had no right to do that.”

“I’m glad she did,” Joohyun persuaded, sitting closer to you on the couch and only stopping at your glare. “Y/N, it’s wrong that I led you on. And I regret every bit of it, especially now that I know how much you’ve hurt.”

“Hurt?” You brought a trembling hand up to rake through your hair, shaking your head. “That’s undermining it. Joohyun, I loved you. And I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn’t let me. It’s too late to-- you can’t just come back into my life like this. I won’t let you.”

She flinched back as if you had slapped her, her hand withdrawing from where it had been trying to touch you. “I-- Y/N. That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” you shouted suddenly, springing up. “You’re the one who isn’t fair. You left in June, but you’ve been gone for a year. And I don’t love you anymore!”

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” Joohyun answered back, softer than she had ever spoken before. She searched your eyes for an answer, biting her lip when she found none. “Isn’t it?”

“No.” Your voice was stronger than hers, a firm wall in front of your heart that wouldn’t let her in no matter what. And when no lie rung in your ears, you repeated, “It’s not a lie. You left me, and you can’t expect me to still love you, Joohyun. I love someone else now, someone who-- someone who wouldn’t hurt me like you.”

And to your surprise, the girl smiled. Tearily, but she smiled nonetheless, gathering her jacket from the back of the couch. “I see. Well, I... I’m glad that you found someone to mend your heart. I never wanted to hurt you, and I hope you’ll see that someday.”

Just like that, she was gone again, a whisper of her perfume the last thing fueling the rage burning in your lungs. Just like that, it was like she was never in the apartment at all, the space once again cold and empty.

Snatching a framed picture of Yeri off the dresser, you sighed and sat down again, chin in your hand as you stared at the smile that had ingrained itself into your brain. “Yeri, I don’t know what to do anymore. I... I really don’t love Joohyun anymore, but it still hurts.”

She didn’t respond, of course, but you waited a second before continuing. “But I wasn’t lying when I told her I loved someone else. Is it wrong that I moved on so quickly? Is it wrong that I let you replace her?”

Biting down on your lip, you held the picture closer to your chest. It was ridiculous to be treating a picture frame as your sense of comfort, especially when said girl probably didn’t know about your feelings or care about them in the slightest. “I think I love you.”

“Reminiscing about the way we met?”

You spun around in the couch, spine creaking embarrassingly with your speed. And there, Yeri stood in the doorway, hand still lingering on the doorknob as she smiled. “Or is it something else?”

Tripping over your own two feet was embarrassing, but the other girl didn’t seem to mind when you ran to hug her, eyes stinging when you hugged her with all your might, whispering with your eyes squeezed shut, “I love you. I love you I love you I-”

The taste of bitter words on your tongue was replaced with the sugar of Christmas cookies, soft lips moving against yours and cold hands at your jaw. Yeri was the warmth that you had missed in your arms, and you could only grin as you kissed her back.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she laughed when she pulled back slightly to breathe, lips as red as the cranberries Sooyoung hung on the Christmas tree. “Merry Christmas.”

[theoutcastedartist]

Give us all you animaniacs hcs (especially the lgbtq+ ones)((please))

Oh man I have so many to tell asfhjahsbsb I'm gonna leave out some of the more darker HC I have for this show (well technically, they are wildly-outlandish theories about where the Warner trio was for those 20+ years before the current time of the reboot, just gonna exclude those for now)

Ight imma start with the lgbtq+ headcannons first

Wakko: Nonbinary (Uses He/Them Pronouns)

Dot : Trans (Uses She/Her pronouns) and Pan

Yakko : Bi and Ace (Biromantic I believe it's called? Please correct me if I'm wrong on that)

On an unrelated note, Yakko is a whole mood

lmao look at my tiny clown-faced-puppy disaster son being the dramatic Bi-Ace icon he is when he's basically about to "die"

If you ever asked my younger siblings, they would tell you that I would 100% do the same shit, maybe even start singing "Little Miss Perfect" out of pure spite

Who knew me, as the oldest of a sibling trio would relate to the oldest of another sibling trio

ANYWHO BACK TO HEADCANNON STUFF BECAUSE YES

Oh man lemme start with Yakko HCs because he's the character I project so much on to nowadays:

Yakko

All his senses are very sensitive compared to the other two, sometimes he'll get really overwhelmed by bright lights, strong flavors, loud noise, etc... he feels like he's being dumb everytime he has a problem with anything regarding his senses.

Lights and noise: Sometimes it just gets too much for him if he's exposed to constant loud noise and bright lights to the point where he'll start crying or yelling (especially if noise is the main problem) out of stress from it.

Strong flavors: He will visibly shudder in response to a very strong and very noticable flavor. He honestly prefers to eat blander foods over savory dishes. With that being said, he hates spicy food with a burning passion.

Very unwilling to go to someone for help or comfort when he's genuinely having a crisis over how he views himself. If anything, he's will try to do literally almost anything to avoid having that sort of conversation, especially with Dr. Scratchansniff.

He will however go to Dr. Scratchansniff or another trusted adult for advice if he needs help for how to take care of his siblings or just for general advice on stuff.

He hates being picked up or hugged with zero warning.

The only people who he doesnt mind doing this are Wakko and Dot, of course. If anyone else tries it though, he'll bite them and yes, this includes Dr. Scratchansniff as well. He may be the closest thing to them as a parental figure (in the 90's show at least), but he's not in the same close knit circle Yakko is in with Wakko and Dot.

His main hobby is drawing, it's his go to coping mechanism if he's not up to cracking a joke(while he's in the watertower) as well.

He needs glasses/wears contacts (ones made specifically for toons I guess)

Prefers reading books over watching anything on TV/electronic devices in general.

If either or both of his siblings can't sleep, he'll sing them a lullaby 💕

Off-set/off-screen/ outside of the recording for animaniacs Yakko usually wears these thick, oversized hoodies, and he will refuse to take it off.

This is because Yakko feels really weird and off when his arms aren't covered(sometimes there is this random phantom ache in his arms that just wont go away until he covers them. It's not like painful, painful, but just really annoying at times.) Even if it's hot as hell outside, he will not take it off. Wakko and Dot usually have to wrestle to get it off him, otherwise Yakko will faint/have a heat stroke. They make a compromise by agreeing to Yakko wearing long sleeves, so long as they're made out of light material.

If he needs caffeine to "wake up" but is too damn tired to do so, Yakko will not hesitate to just straight-up eat pure coffee beans.

Wakko

For anything else, he does not mind eating food with very strong flavors, he actually enjoys spicy food (the spicier, the better), but for cereal they prefer the blandest one. Bland food is comforting to him (also doesnt want his brother to feel bad about not liking a lot of the savory foods he and Dot like)

Doesnt have much of a problem expressing himself. If he genuinely feels bad about something regarding themself, he wont hesitate to go to Yakko (sometimes he'll go to Dot if she happens to be there first, but 95% of the time he'll go to Yakko)

They actually likes being picked up and carried, but only by family and close friends. Any stranger who tries to pick him up will receive angry claw marks to the face.

Main hobby is composing music (instumentals). They will let Yakko or Dot write lyrics if they're feeling sad or bored (or as a sibling bonding activity too)

Favorite TV show is the Looney Tunes (classic cartoons)

He gives comfort to his sibs by just being there for them as a shoulder to cry on.

They don't like having their hat off for an extended period of time often. It's a source of comfort and his way of expressing his identity.

Is the one who usually has to stop Yakko from eating bare coffee beans when he's too tired to actually make coffee.

Dot

She's pretty in the middle when it comes to food.

If it's a minor thing, she'll usually just talk to Wakko about it. If it's something more serious, she'll go to Yakko about it.

She only let's Yakko and Wakko touch her or carry her. Outside of those two, she only let's Dr. Scratchansniff carry her. For anyone else, she will clobber anyone who makes an attempt to do so. She just really hates it when if comes to anyone else.

Main hobbies are sewing and designing clothes. She'll have her siblings model her clothes for her (they are very eager to do so everytime). It provides a good distraction for either Yakko or Wakko if they're down or frustrated about something. It's just super fun.

Really loves (well-made) action movies, it's like her favorite genre of movies.

Gives comfort by providing her siblings with soft materials (like blankets or pillows). She'll drape herself over either of them to provide a comforting pressure.

She expresses herself through her iconic pink skirt and flower scrunchie. Both are her favorite articles of clothing because her siblings were the ones who got them for her. (Yakko sewed the pink skirt; he was the one to teach Dot how to sew 💕)

She's a last resort to stopping Yakko from eating the coffee beans raw.

Original vs. Reboot headcannons

The original 1990's show is more "On-stage", having for educational songs and skits, whereas the 2020 Reboot/revival is more "Off-Stage" with the occasional show skit, hence any inconsistencies with the characters' personalities, especially Yakko.

Both shows take place in the same type of setting as "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" (The idea of cartoons existing as real entities alongside humans; I got a lot of WFRR vibes during Sufferage City with the whole "Cartoon Rights" part especially)

Well that's about as much as I can write for now, I have more headcannons of course, but I found this to be a good place to stop.

These are just my personal headcannons of the Warner Trio, I don't really have any for Pinky and the Brain, but I wanna know what some of your guy's headcannons are for any aspect of the shows!

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warning(s): smut/nsfw, cheating, cursing, angst, Y/N being a badass :)

Author’s notes: We’ll be honest...this chapter is a lot to handle 😂 which is amazing since it’s only Chapter 3 of many! We suggest taking a break throughout, because you’re gonna need it 😂 So much happens that your mind may actually explode from the drama. By the way, Jimmy is introduced in the next chapter so yay! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2

————

Paul took Y/N out to dinner that week, and they had a wonderful time together. It seemed that every conversation they had together brought them closer and closer, and Y/N was in pure bliss. From that point forward, the two became inseparable.

Y/N’s parents, however, were not super pleased that Y/N was seeing Paul, especially because they had warned her about the romantically-unattached musician’s mannerisms and habits not that long ago. They just decided to act like they liked Paul, so he wouldn’t get suspicious or feel bad.

Two members of The Yardbirds in particular (and I’m sure, dear reader, that you know who they are by now) were hit with pangs of jealousy whenever they saw Y/N constantly attached to Paul’s arm. And, to make matters worse, it was under any circumstance imaginable: parties, interviews, photoshoots, meetings, airports, train stations, hotels...the list goes on. Yes, they did spend plenty of time apart, but attraction can make a man think irrationally. Even though they were specifically and strictly told to keep their mouths shut, it was very tempting to just say the truth and end their misery. A part of Chris and Jim felt happy to see her happy, but another, traitorous side of them felt exponentially bad for her. They knew that she was being used by Paul as arm-candy, and they knew that she, of all people, did not deserve that.

But that’s the name of the game, unfortunately.

~~~~~~~~

18 February 1966

The Yardbirds were scheduled to perform on an episode of Ready, Steady, Go! that night, and Y/N decided to go and be a part of the live audience. She felt an obligation to support Paul and the band, since they were all friends (and a boyfriend, of course) now.

Before the show, Jim, Jeff, and Keith were all sitting on the stage, discussing the logistics of the rehearsals that would start soon. Y/N stood in front of the already-prepared stage and chatted with them.

“So what are you guys going to do on our days off next week?” Jeff asked.

“Spend time with my family,” Keith replied, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Not sure yet, haven’t figured it out,” Jim added.

“How ‘bout you, Miss Y/N?” Jeff nodded towards her with a smile. She answered with a soft giggle.

“I’m probably going golfing with my brother and a couple mates.”

“You golf?” Jim asked. She seemed to be getting more and more perfect by the day.

“Mmhmm,” Y/N nodded enthusiastically, “I’m bloody awful at it, but it’s fun, and I can hang out with my brother, so it’s a win-win.”

“You never told us you had siblings,” Keith smirked, tilting to the side and crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah, I have three. There’s Tommy, my older brother; Charlie, my younger brother; and Lillian, my little sister,” Y/N said.

“Wow, full house,” Jeff remarked, “I have a sister, Annetta, who I think you’d get along with quite well. I’ll have to introduce you to her soon.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I’d love to meet another Beck,” Y/N replied playfully. Jeff just laughed and shook his head.

“It’s a shame that I can’t spend time with Paul this week. He said he was busy, but he didn’t explain why,” Y/N sighed, “whatever. It’s probably legitimate, so I don’t mind. We’ve been hanging out too much anyway.” She laughed at the last part.

“He’s probably just going home to his wife,” Jim replied, thoughtlessly.

At that instant, everyone’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and lips downturned into a shocked, panicked frown.

“He’s...what?” Y/N asked quietly, sounding like she was about to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

Y/N noticed that Keith and Jeff were glaring at Jim, who was clearly embarrassed at what he had revealed. He hid his eyes with his hand.

When Jeff finally found it in him to turn away from Jim, he deeply exhaled. He then reached out his hands to touch Y/N’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

“Look, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to find out this way, and I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Jeff began, “but he is indeed married. I honestly don’t know why he wanted to pursue you, and I warned him against it because of how much we care about you, but he did it anyway.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered, “he made it seem like I was the only one…that he was really in love with me...”

Jeff hated seeing his friend cry because of something he could have prevented. But, Y/N was somehow still beautiful when she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jeff consoled gently, getting off the stage to hug her, “here, let’s take you backstage to calm you down a little.”

Y/N refused Jeff’s kind offer with a shake of the head. Through her blurry, teary-eyed vision, she just plastered on a smile, and wiped the wetness from her eyes.

“Ew,” her voice cracked, “why am I crying? That’s so gross of me, I’m so sorry. I’m definitely making you guys uncomfortable.”

The three musicians’ eyes widened at Y/N’s sudden burst of emotional strength.

“Y/N, you just found out you were Sam’s side chick, and you don’t care?” Jeff inquired, genuinely confused as to what was going on with Y/N’s emotions.

“It’s okay to be sad, love. And utterly fuming with anger. I must admit, this situation wouldn’t be as dire if it were someone else, but it’s you,” Keith added. Jim just sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say. His message destroyed Y/N’s heart and her innocence.

“I am sad, but if this ‘thing’ went on any longer, I’d probably be even more devastated. You saved me from a lot more unnecessary heartbreak, so thank you, Jim,” Y/N said. Her tone sounded completely numb.

“How are you gonna tell Sam?” Keith asked Y/N.

She exhaled deeply. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair of me to lash out on him before being on national television.”

“How can you care about fairness? Don’t you realize what this man has done to you?” Jeff asked, anger interlaced in his voice.

“Yes, Jeff. I do,” Y/N replied stoically, “And I’ll be fine, really. Let’s just forget about it, okay? I’m just lucky to be here, watching you perform. What song are you playing again?” Y/N tried to change the subject, but on the inside she was in deep agony and pain. She poured all of this time and emotion and her body into this cute musician boy, just to realize she didn’t matter.

“‘Shapes of Thi—’” Keith began quietly.

Jeff cut him off. “Y/N, I seriously refuse to believe you’re okay. Please, just let me help y—” he started.

“Jeff! I’m fine! Seriously,” Y/N raised her voice a little, annoyed at the nagging.

“But you seem—” Jim began, barely perceptible.

“Oh my God, Jim, I’m fine!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t care. It’s done, it’s over.”

The three men sat in silence after Y/N’s sudden outburst of anger, which was very out of character for her. She quickly realized what she had done.

“I’m so sorry for lashing out on you guys. That was uncalled for, it’s not your fault. I’m gonna go to the loo, excuse me,” she said quickly, walking out of the scene before anyone could call after her.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N stayed in the bathroom for all of rehearsals, and she finally reemerged right before the broadcast was about to start, looking as fresh as she did when she got there. It was as if the news was never even brought to her attention.

She refused to make eye contact with Paul through the entire performance, even though it was apparent that he tried to get her attention with his eyes. Chris was just confused that she wouldn’t even dare to glance at Paul. Just a little trouble in paradise that he didn’t know about maybe?

After the show and when the band went offstage, Jeff went back into the crowd to check on Y/N and brought her backstage.

“You have to confront him,” Jeff pleaded.

“I don’t want to,” Y/N whined.

“You have to, or else he’ll bloody win! You don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t want that for you either! He is the one at fault. You have every right to fuck him up for it.”

Jeff’s little speech gave her an impulsive boost of confidence.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Get everyone out of the room, though,” Y/N stated firmly, beginning to march down the hallway behind Jeff.

Momentarily, Jeff went into the room and rounded up Keith, Jim, and Chris, and filed them down the hallway into another room orderly.

As Y/N was about to enter the room, Jeff whispered in her ear, “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead.” Y/N smiled at Jeff before entering the room and closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~

Paul warmly smiled at Y/N as she entered the room.

“Hello, love,” he said gently, “how did you enjoy the show?”

Y/N painted on the most genuine smile she could force. “It was...almost perfect.”

Paul’s eyebrow quirked as he smiled in a confused way. “Why almost?”

“I don’t think rehearsals went as well as I had planned,” Y/N replied smoothly.

“Why? Did something bad happen to you? You’re speaking in riddles, dear.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Y/N snickered, “it’s actually so funny that you bring up riddles, because that seemed to be the exact problem at hand.”

“What does that mean? Did someone tell you something you couldn’t figure out?” Paul chuckled, “You’re confusing me.”

“I figured out that you would be going home to your wife next week.”

All the colour from Paul’s face was drained in a millisecond, and his originally jovial expression was gone. It was as if someone punched him in the gut.

“Who...who told you?” he asked, panicked.

Y/N was taken aback. “I find out I’m your side-chick and you have the audacity to ask who told me? Not an ‘I’m so sorry that I lied to you and broke your heart, Y/N’?”

Paul huffed. “And you expect me to just keep my composure when someone of your gravity walks into the room for the first time? I really am sorry, Y/N, I truly, truly am, but—”

Y/N’s calm and quiet demeanor had left the building at that point. She was mad. Really mad.

“But what? You tell me how in love you are with me, and how I’m your one and only forever, just to realize that I didn’t matter? I’m going to be eighteen years old in March. Eighteen. What do I know about love? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And you chose to take full advantage of my emotional vulnerability.”

“But you did matter. You’re so special to me, Y/N. Don’t you understand that?”

“Don’t you understand that you have a wife? You never loved me. I was never special to you. I was just another fling. But you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“The life of a travelling musician is extremely difficult, Y/N, and you don’t get that,” Paul said severely.

“And that shouldn’t be used as an excuse. You know what? We’re done. Whatever this ‘thing’ is, is over. I wish you the best,” Y/N concluded as she walked out the door and sternly shut it.

The nightmare was over and Y/N was a free agent.

Before she could debrief about her experience with any of the other Yardbirds, Y/N left the venue, caught the first taxi home, ran up into her room, and cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

22 April 1966

Y/N found recovery time and solace in those two months without Paul. She didn’t go to any Yardbirds gigs, but she sporadically met up with Jeff, Keith, Jim, and Chris at a pub or restaurant to catch up over a meal and drinks. Chris had recently mentioned to her that they were playing in London on the 22nd, and if she felt comfortable, she could attend for free and get backstage to hang out.

Y/N said she’d have to think about it, but she’d definitely consider it.

She had realized over the course of two months that she was not truly in love with Paul. Yes, she fancied him, but she must’ve mistaken the feeling of being genuinely in love with the person for being in love with the situation. Y/N concluded that this relationship was the equivalent of living out one’s childhood dreams of a romance with their schoolgirl crush.

She decided that she was retired from dating for a long time, especially because of how this shitshow ended, but a miniscule piece of her wondered when and how she’d meet her other half.

In the afternoon on the day of the show, which was to be played at the Wimbledon Palais, Y/N made the reckless decision to take a trip down to the Yardbirds’ hotel, but not for the reason you might expect.

Y/N never got the chance to thank Jim McCarty for coming clean about Paul’s infidelity to his wife by “dating” her, and to formally apologize for ripping him at the Ready, Steady, Go! rehearsals. She felt bad for being so dismissive of him, because he was always so nice to her and apparently seemed to care more about her wellbeing than Paul ever did.

Y/N stood on the platform of the train station anxiously, meticulously scheming in her mind about what she would say to Jim to truly and genuinely express her gratitude. She thought about how the encounter would go all the way to London, and all the way on her walk to the hotel.

When she arrived at the hotel, she greeted the concierge, and took the elevator to what she believed to be the Yardbirds’ floor. She took an educated guess as to which room Jim’s would be, just by what she had seen in past times. Y/N took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

When the door opened, she realized that in her best interest, her guess was correct.

“Hi,” she greeted breathily, her fingers interlaced together in front of her timidly.

“Hi,” Jim smiled. After a short moment of awkward silence, he continued, “Um, what are you doing here? Not that it’s a bad thing, which it’s not, but…” he trailed off.

“I just wanted to tell you something that I think needed to be said in-person,” Y/N said quickly.

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprised delight. “Oh, okay.” He moved out of the way of the doorframe so Y/N could enter the room, then shut the door gently behind her. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he chuckled, “make yourself at home.”

Y/N smiled and thanked him graciously, but shyly, as she sat down at a small couch at the edge of the bed. Jim was quick to follow her actions.

Y/N took a deep breath before beginning, “I just wanted to thank you for informing me about Paul in February. I know, it’s been a really long time since then… but I’ve needed some time to myself to think and refocus and recuperate, y’know?”

Jim just laughed. “You came all the way here to thank me? That’s so nice of you. You didn’t need to do that.”

Y/N grinned. “I don’t know, I felt this obligation for some reason. And in addition, I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you as well. I was just shell-shocked, I guess, and I unfairly took it out on you and Jeff.”

“If I forgave you then, I’ll still forgive you now,” Jim smiled, “don’t sweat it. In all honesty, I was surprised at how well you took the news.”

“I just wanted to be as calm and composed as possible,” Y/N blushed, “but obviously I didn’t get very far, did I?” Jim laughed at Y/N’s little jab at herself.

“Well, you’re so quiet, at least you showed a piece of your inner self that night,” Jim teased. Y/N just beamed at him.

“You know, since I owe you, now… I guess I just need to live a little, y’know? I have this introverted shell I need to break out of someday, and I might as well start now,” Y/N offered with a chuckle. “So, with that being said, let me do something for you. Anything you want.”

“Oh no, that’s too much. You didn’t even cause me any grief,” Jim retaliated playfully, “thank you, Y/N, but I think you’re overthinking this whole situation.”

“Please,” she continued with a pleading voice, “I feel awful, and plus, if it makes you feel better, you’ll be helping me clear my conscience. Jim, I’ll do anything you want, no matter how crazy… I’ll take you jet-skiing, I’ll ride on a bike in a bikini when the temperature is below freezing, I’ll clean your kitchen… anything you want me to do, I will do.”

Jim grinned at the bizarre options Y/N gave him before contemplating her invocation for a moment. Anything, huh?

“Kiss me.”

“You said you'd do anything, no matter how crazy, yes?” Y/N didn't get a chance to finish, as Jim interrupted her with a hand at her wrist, and a flinty look in his eyes, that gazed right into hers.

“I did.”

“Well,” Jim continued, stepping ever-closer to the young woman in front of him. She looked just as beautiful as she always had, if not more. Jim was convinced she was perfect, and wanted to protect her. To treat her right, the way she deserved. “You could get on your knees, in front of me.”

Kneeling down on the carpeted floor, Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, and the glint in her eyes made his knees weak. She looked almost shy, and he couldn't help but send a comforting smile her way.

“Have you done this before, Y/N?”

She shook her head at this, and looked down, almost embarrassed. Jim, heart pounding in his chest in anticipation, reached out a hand to lift her head. Her eyes held trust, and a hint of nervousness, but her lips quirk up in a smile, her cheeks flushing.

“I’ll walk you through it, love.” The sound of a belt clinking to the floor reached Y/N’s ears, zipper following suit, and she couldn’t help the way she almost thrummed with anticipation. Her parents had warned her against exactly this type of thing. Musicians were, according to her parents, a fickle breed, who only wanted her for her looks and body. It hurt to think of it now, when Jim was being nothing but a gentleman to her. She wanted to break out of her shell, and maybe this was the way to do it.

Y/N looks to Jim and sees him exposed, fully hard now, and her cheeks erupt into shades of rosy pink. He was big, much bigger than she would have expected, and she smiled up at him.

“Okay, love. Open your mouth.” Y/N opened her mouth, sinking it over his tip, which elicits a strained moan, full of pleasure. His hand landed in Y/N’s hair, fingers clenching gently around the tresses. The light tug Y/N felt only spurred her on.

“That’s incredible, princess. Now, try and circle your tongue. You’re doing so well.”

Y/N did as she’s told, and it’s like a spell was put over the man. He craned his head back, neck bared, as soft whimpers fell past his lips. Growing more confident, knowing now what he liked, she let her teeth rake over him lightly, which worked more moans from him, almost breathless in his euphoria.

With a murmured “fuck,” he comes, Y/N’s name the only thing on his lips. She slowly released him from her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she stood. Jim, leaning up against the wall, was in bliss, heaving breaths and ruffling Y/N’s hair as she approached.

“That was… you're perfect, princess. Absolutely perfect.”

Y/N laughs, smile nearly splitting her cheeks, and she pressed even closer, pressing her lips to his in a soft, content embrace. She could taste the sweat on his lips, and she couldn't help but think that she could definitely get used to this feeling.

Jim revelled in the feel of her soft lips against his, and he was struck by the thought that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. He’s where he wants to be, beside Y/N.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[radiantmists]

ooooh i'd love to hear your thoughts on an rqg and stormlight crossover!

absolutely.

(send me 2+ fandoms and i’ll give you thoughts on crossing them over)

okay so first of all I’ve thought about this just a little already, in that i saw a significant link between zolf’s new ethos, the whole not-hope what-comes-next thing, and the first ideal, especially as presented in Oathbringer. The radiant orders in general actually feel like... especially codified paladins/clerics, where you get powers in exchange for subscribing to a certain set of ideals.

so i cheated a little and consulted a conversation i had on the rqbb server about radiant orders for the party; using that plus this radiant order guide, i came up with the following:

sasha’s an edgedancer. this is the one i’m most sure about; the slid-ey powers fit, but ‘remembering those who’ve been forgotten’ is also very sasha, especially with her Good End being starting an orphanage. plus she just has The Vibe, you know?

grizzop would make sense as a skybreaker, extremely lawful good and focused on justice, defending the innocent and punishing the guilty. also the idea of him being able to fly brings the chaos gremlin in me joy.

I’d make hamid a dustbringer, honestly because the description in the link above fits the narrative i’d like him to have, regarding the importance of responsibility and self-mastery as one’s destructive power grows.

cel i’m less confident on, but i think i’d go with willshaper; there’s a focus on personal freedom and self-expression, liberation from tyranny, and the order also has an association with creators. (if ppl have thoughts on this lmk because i dont have that great of a handle on cel tbh)

sidenote, skraak would definitely be a willshaper too.

azu is... difficult. i want her to have regrowth as a surge because i feel like healing is a really important thing for her, and she does kinda vibe as an edgedancer... but the stonewards’ focus on dependability and team dynamics, their refusal to bend their ideals, and even just the minor bits like interest in athletics just really fits for her, so i’d have to go with that. i guess kaladin has healing as a central part of his character without it being a surge, so... yes. stoneward. go read the description, the more i think about this the more it seems Correct.

and finally, zolf. the source of so many headaches, i do not understand this man. i can kinda see him as a windrunner, stoneward, skybreaker, or bondsmith, but i’m not confident with any of them. i would lean toward bondsmith just because both the source above and the textual evidence we have with dalinar and navani suggest that bondsmiths are hard to categorize, as far as values, other than them being leaders.

but the question of zolf brings me to a big question-- would they all be radiants? i think they would all have the potential, certainly, any one of them has enough bullshit in the backstory to have cracks that would allow a nahel bond, and enough determination to speak the first ideal and mean it. but that doesn’t mean they’d all attract/bond spren, and i havent even decided how, if at all, i’m dealing with the whole humans vs. singers thing.

(adding a readmore discussing where i see zolf going bc it’s getting long)

but, uh, here’s something rough: i think zolf would pull a baby-shallan and kill his first spren. probably, this would be a highspren; early zolf is very strongly dedicated to the idea of an unbendable truth, divine justice. and i think his point of breaking might even be similar to his questioning of poseidon in canon, because stormlight/cosmere actually engages with the question of “how does someone become a god,” and the answer is “by killing the old one” which very much would not qualify them to be an arbiter of justice in zolf’s eyes.

i think stormlight!zolf would find out that honor is dead, along with the revelation about humans being the invaders (if that’s still what’s going on in this crossover), and have a paris-equivalent breakdown about what ‘the right thing’ or ‘justice’ even mean. he wouldn’t believe in his ideals anymore, he’d ‘kill’ his spren, and that would make his spiral a lot worse.

i’m not sure what would happen from there. 

it’s possible that he’d wake his highspren again by speaking a higher ideal the way kaladin does, though i’m still not perfectly clear on the mechanics of that; zolf actually does still have the dedication to punishing the guilty, he just doesn’t look for an external code as the source of justice anymore, and that’s actually consistent with some higher skybreaker ideals. but he doesn’t really vibe with the whole ‘order and codified law’ thing.

i can see him returning as a bondsmith, but in an awkward sort of situation similar to navani’s, where the spren isn’t fully comfortable with him and he’s doing it largely out of need. but also i don’t want that for him?? his turn in canon to the new source of power feels like it was good for him, and i’d want to do something equivalent, and this feels like it would be almost self-destructive.

but as i was noodling around on the orders explanation page, i noticed this in the description of bondsmiths: “Beyond that, many of the retinues that protected the Bondsmiths were considered members of the Order–going so far as to swear oaths, even though they didn’t have a spren and never would. Some even called this the most pure form of being a Radiant, because these were oaths sworn not in the name of gaining powers, but simply for the good of the oaths themselves.”

and my brain lit up at that, bc you know whose arc is about growing as a person and dedicating themselves to uniting people and leading? wilde. so i’m imagining wilde becoming a bondsmith, and zolf not bonding a new spren but swearing the first ideal in spirit because that is genuinely what he believes, and just being part of wilde’s team, keeping him safe as a regular human/maybe having some squire powers.

WELL i’ve done a lot of thinking about orders and almost none about plot or even actual character backstories, but I’ve spent a while on this. i’m very likely to come back to this because rqg is definitely my current Main Fandom and (as you can tell from the url) the cosmere is my beloved, so... yes.

[liemonyellow]

i couldn't hide from the thunder (happy end)

read on ao3

Ship: romantic anamoceit (patton/virgil/janus)

Word Count: 5000

Warnings: implied attempted suicide (no one dies, but it’s not really discussed either - the end is almost pure fluff), lots of italics

Summary: It was cruel, the way Virgil’s heart belonged to someone who would never love him back. It had to be karma, because hadn’t it been Virgil who pushed him away? Virgil, who lashed out and locked out everybody in a moment of hurt, who was too afraid to admit his feelings, forever destined to see his beloved love someone else?

Notes: This is the HAPPY ending. If you prefer sad endings where the ship doesn't get together and someone dies, there is a tragic ending version. The story is exactly the same up until the line, “From you? That would be nice, yeah!” and diverges from there.

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If you're here for the alternate ending, click here to skip to the diverging point.

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Virgil didn't understand how things had gotten to this point.

He drifted vaguely into the kitchen, taking in nothing, trying not to think about how tired Patton looked when Virgil checked in on him only five minutes ago. Despite Virgil’s insistence that he rest, he was adamant on staying where he was, though he did ask if he could bring up something warm, like tea, or soup. Apparently it tasted better if it was handmade instead of summoned.

"Can you bring up two? For when he wakes up?" He had asked, eyes red with exhaustion, his normally exuberant smile timid and watery.

Virgil didn't want to. But he saw the tremor in the moral side's hand as he tried and failed to rub away the tiredness of his eyes, the other clutching Deceit's cold, unresponsive arm like a lifeline. So he agreed, of course he agreed, because Patton had asked, and it was important that Patton was happy. And if making Patton happy meant making Deceit happy…

Virgil sighed, rubbing his own eyes, pinching his nose as he tried to focus. He opened the cupboard to check what they had and spotted a tin of Patton’s (and Deceit’s, his brain unhelpfully reminded him) herbal tea. He figured it was a safer - and quicker - bet than food and grabbed a couple of tea bags and put them in some mugs, then filled the electric kettle and started it.

It was taking a while.

Wasn't there a saying about pots and boiling water or something?

If Patton was here, he'd probably make a pun, his grin bright and shining as Virgil rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn't amused.

If Deceit was here, he'd probably shoot back with a snarky pun of his own, in that silky-smooth voice of his, all arrogance and smirks.

…

If Deceit was here, Virgil wouldn't be doing any of this.

Virgil didn't know what had possessed him to go and confront the snake the day prior. He was just so frustrated, unable to get the concept of Deceit charming his way into Patton’s daily life - and his heart - out of his head. Virgil was sure that the deceptive side had to be manipulating Patton somehow. And the sight of Patton, after everything he’d said, looking at Deceit with such fondness and affection whenever he saw them together, and Deceit doing the same - it made Virgil’s blood run cold and boil all at the same time. Virgil couldn’t stand it, the thought of the two of them, together. Deceit had to be using Patton to gain more influence over Thomas, because Virgil refused to believe the lying serpent could love anyone more than he loved himself. Because if he could...

Perhaps it was because no one had seen him in the last few days. That had Virgil worried, and the longer he failed to make an appearance, the more antsy Virgil got. Patton’s own fretting was driving him up the wall, but the other side kept saying something about “respecting his boundaries”.

He expected a fight. He expected the usual snark and sass and sarcasm. He didn’t expect to find Deceit’s room dark and freezing, or the side’s cold, dead-looking body curled up and slumped over in a pile on the ground.

Virgil wasn’t sure what happened after the others arrived. He hadn’t even been aware he was screaming until someone had grabbed him and sunk them both out into the commons, because even Remus knew that leaving Virgil anywhere near his own room in that state would have been a bad idea.

Whatever they did or found out, they had eventually managed to move Deceit to his bed and warm him and his room up without too much trouble, or so Virgil had discovered after he had calmed down.

Patton hadn’t left Deceit’s side since.

The shock had worn off completely then, replaced with renewed ire when Virgil realized Patton wouldn’t leave until he woke up.

If Virgil was frustrated before, he was incensed now. What if this was part of Deceit’s plan? What if it was all just another plot to get them to trust him? What if it was all just another lie? Patton, bless his forgiving heart, was dangerously close to falling in love, if he hadn’t already.

And Virgil had tried, so, so hard, to convince Patton to let him take care of Deceit. At least then the moral side could get some rest, and Virgil would have a 24/7 watch on the serpentine side. And watch he would.

Virgil had to admit that Deceit was very convincing in the way he looked like he was falling just as hard for Patton, likely plying him with some sympathetic sob story designed to reel in the fatherly figment. Every little glance, every lingering stare, every miniscule twitch of Deceit’s eyes were focused on Patton, when he wasn’t mocking Virgil with forlorn eyes and damn his acting abilities for making it look so genuine that Virgil couldn’t stop himself from glowering back, trying to catch him slipping up, to the point that every detail of his face, down to each and every scale was ingrained in Virgil’s mind.

The anxious side honestly didn’t know how he could keep up the act. But while Virgil had years of experience with Deceit’s smug goading and flirtation, Patton was falling for it all, hook, line, and sinker. (But why him? Why not-)

Virgil didn't have to like it, but Deceit was one of them now, and Patton would defend his acceptance to the bitter end. Such fierce loyalty, directed at the worst possible target. But however admirable Patton’s newfound devotion to and defensiveness of Deceit were, Virgil was determined to put a stop to it before the situation could change even more.

Now was probably the best time, given Deceit’s unconsciousness. The first thing to do was stop them from spending so much time together, before they actually got together; it was a slim chance, given their recent closeness, but Virgil had to try something. He was running out of simple options - Patton would only worry more once separated from his not-yet(?) boyfriend, and asking him to just hang out would just be tactless and suspicious at this time. Virgil had even offered to stay there with him and Deceit - so many times it sounded pathetically desperate even to himself - just so Patton could eat or sleep or simply stretch his legs for a minute, but Patton wouldn't budge. He hadn’t so much as drunk a glass of water unless someone put it into his hands.

Right, the tea.

He hadn’t noticed the kettle click off, but there was still steam rising from the spout so he poured the water into the mugs. He hesitated before putting the kettle away. Maybe Patton would let him stay a little, if he brought his own cup, and then Virgil could maybe convince him to leave Deceit alone with him for a few hours? Virgil would stay with Deceit for as long as it took.

He grabbed another mug and tea bag and poured himself a cup and grabbed both the other mugs with his free hand before carefully heading back up the stairs, focusing solely on not spilling anything as he walked.

He was just outside the door, wondering how he was supposed to get in when he heard a raised voice. It sounded like Patton.

Glancing around and finding no help, he ended up setting down his one mug on the floor and opened the door with his newly free hand, and slowly tilted his head inside.

“-ease, Janus!” Patton was kneeling next to the bed, clutching Deceit’s hand between his as if in prayer, his head turned away from the door, focused solely on the bed’s occupant.

Deceit was awake, just barely, eyes cracked open just enough to reveal a sliver of yellow and amber. As soon as Virgil had peeked in, he’d noticed and stared, expression unreadable. Virgil’s blood chilled at the sight of him, pale and pitiful and hardly able to keep his eyes open, looking so vulnerable and weak. Then Patton bowed his head, bringing their joined hands to his brow as he trembled, and Virgil’s blood burned in his veins. It was an act, he reminded himself. It had to be. Because if it wasn’t… then they...

Deceit mumbled something too soft for Virgil to hear, and Patton spun around to see him standing in the doorway, wide-eyed. He scrambled to his feet and gave Virgil an obviously fake smile, wiping away his tears. Virgil could feel his heart squeeze at the sight of him pretending he wasn’t hurting.

“Virgil! Janus is awake! Um,” he glanced at the bedridden side and back, spotting the mugs Virgil was holding, “oh, right, the tea! Thank you so much!”

He walked over quickly and grabbed the mugs, saying, “I’m sorry, kidd- uh, Virgil, but I don’t think Janus is really ready for more people right now. I’m really sorry!”

Virgil’s heart dropped, but he managed to nod mutely, step out, and close the door behind him. He heard Patton cooing apologies to Deceit before the heavy wood cut off his voice with a finality that unsettled the purple side.

Virgil stood there for a minute.

Picked up his mug.

Made it all the way to his room.

Shut and locked the door.

Stood there another minute.

Started shaking.

Then, he threw the mug, tea and all, against the wall, splattering the hot liquid all over the posters and shattering the ceramic.

Virgil sank to the floor, hugging his knees, tucking his face into them.

It was cruel, the way Virgil’s heart belonged to someone who would never love him back. It had to be karma, because hadn’t it been Virgil who pushed him away? Virgil, who lashed out and locked out everybody in a moment of hurt, who was too afraid to admit his feelings, forever destined to see his beloved love someone else?

He didn’t know how long he stayed there. Eventually, he managed to drag himself into bed and into sleep, so exhausted that his anxiety had no chance to keep him up before he was unconscious.

For the next week, Virgil settled into a vague routine of bringing tea to Patton (and Deceit) in the evening. Deceit had recovered rather (suspiciously) quickly and was able to get up and walk for a bit. Still, Patton refused to leave him alone. If anything, he’d gotten more protective. Logan, Remus, and even Roman would also pop in during the day to see how the two were doing, but they did not seem all that concerned with things, at least not as much as Virgil was.

The worst part was how carefully the others would tread around Virgil, like he was some pitiful, pathetic creature or something. It was no secret that he had a huge crush on Patton. (Was that why Deceit chose him? Or just a spiteful twist of fate?) Roman had teased him relentlessly about it before… recent events, but Remus had only gotten worse, ribbing Virgil about making a little threesome with Patton and Janus, after years of mocking him about Janus’s “flirting”. And while Logan didn’t participate, the logical side also talked about Virgil’s crush as a matter of fact while chastising the twins for their teasing. So Virgil had taken to just staying inside his room and taking a nap during the day and going out in the dead of night, when everyone else was sleeping.

The evening of that fateful night, Virgil drifted awake the same way he fell asleep, vaguely aware that he was in a state of transition before his mind caught up to whatever was happening. He pushed himself up and stretched, checked the time, then flopped down, eyes drifting closed again...

Why had he woken up so early? Usually he wouldn’t get up for at least another hour, unless he was being summoned for something. God, he was so damn tired these days, no matter how long he slept.

Virgil’s eyes snapped open and he bolted up.

Fuck, Thomas was getting anxious about something.

Virgil swung himself out of bed and ran his hand through his hair to hopefully smooth it out some, then sank out and appeared in usual place at the foot of the stairs.

Thomas was staring at his phone, frowning. He didn’t seem too aware of Virgil’s presence.

Virgil reviewed the situation: Thomas was anxious. Obviously. He was about to text a friend. They hadn’t talked in a while, and left things off in a weird way that no one was happy with. Thomas missed him. He just wasn’t sure he missed him back.

Thomas sighed. He looked up and over to the blinds where Patton (and, now, Deceit) usually stood during discussions, then back down to his phone again. It had locked from inactivity. He huffed in frustration as he keyed his passcode into the screen.

Virgil decided to cut to the chase.

“Tell him the truth.”

Thomas practically leaped, his head whipping back up to see his anxious side leveling an accusatory stare at him, one eyebrow raised.

Thomas sighed again. “It’s probably too late...”

“Look, I’m sure he misses you, too.”

“Yeah, right. Clearly he does, or he wouldn’t be constantly avoiding me.” Thomas frowned at his phone again.

“You don’t know that. Not for sure. And being sure means you can move forward.”

Thomas gave an empty chuckle, then he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands, as if denying he could see anything would help him avoid talking about it.

“Pretending you don’t miss him isn’t going to help. Just tell him the truth. Doesn’t he deserve that much?” Virgil asked.

Virgil knew that neither option felt any better than the other. Thomas glanced at Virgil from the corner of his eye. The side slouched even more, eyes flicking between Thomas and a random spot on the floor, almost pleadingly.

“Of course he does. But what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Then you apologize. And… you move on.”

Thomas shifted his glare to Virgil. “You’re saying that?”

Virgil hid his face. Of course he’d be called out. “We all have to try something new at some point, right?”

Thomas’s glare lost its heat. He looked back down again. “I want to apologize, but I feel like-”

“Like no matter what you do, you do the wrong thing. I know.”

Thomas sighed again, frowning at his phone. He hesitated, then deleted his text and wrote, “I’m sorry for how we left things. I still care about you. I want to apologize. Can we talk?”

He stared at the words for a good minute. Then he hit send.

It was the truth, at least. Thomas didn’t feel all that much better, and for that matter, neither did Virgil. Thomas set his phone down and buried his face in his hands again.

“Thanks, Virgil. For being… gentle? Patient? Understanding? Usually you’re the one giving me a hard time about this stuff.”

“I figured you could use a break. I am trying, you know. To help. To be less… aggressive.” Virgil shrugged, looking away. “I’m just filling in for Patton, really. Y’know, what he’d say in this situation and all.”

Thomas looked up and glanced at his- their spot again.

“I figured he would have shown up. To help me, like you just did. Where is he?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged. “With Deceit.”

“Why-”

“Just- don’t ask, Thomas. Now’s… not a great time.”

“When is?”

Virgil couldn’t look at Thomas. Thomas rubbed his eyes.

“I just don’t get it. Up until a couple of weeks ago, things were fine. Then, it’s like, I don’t know, it’s like I stopped caring. About my friends, my family, my own life. I was supposed to do laundry, and take a day off to hang out with everyone, but I totally flaked on everything!” Thomas leaned back, sliding a little down the couch. “And I know it’s not Janus’s fault because Janus told me self-care was having clean clothes and spending time with my friends.”

Virgil held back a growl. This was absolutely Deceit’s fault. ‘Janus’ this and ‘Janus’ that, could the snake leave him alone for five goddamn minutes?! He already saw him day after day (Virgil could think of only one reason for wanting to see him more and he was already doing the best he could on that front) and he couldn’t even get away from him in his dreams!

“Why don’t you ask the Lord of the Lies himself?”

“I tried! But he didn’t show up either.”

“So you summoned me instead?”

“Not really… I guess I just got more anxious the longer I waited.”

“You know what? I just- I can’t with you right now.”

And with that, Virgil sank out, refusing to answer Thomas’s summons afterward. He appeared outside of Deceit’s door.

Now that he was here, though, he hesitated. But he brushed it aside, too angry to think at the moment. He knocked and let himself in.

“Thomas wants to talk to Deceit.”

Patton was already half-standing, looking back and forth between the side in the bed and the side who just entered.

“But, Janus isn’t ready for-”

“He can walk now, can’t he? It’s not like he’s a real human, it’s not like he’s going to disappear without you around.”

Patton made a pained sound, but Deceit laid a hand on his arm and said, “It’s fine, Patton. I can go and see what Thomas wants to talk about.”

Patton shook his head. “No! I’ll go!”

“Patton-”

“I’ll go,” Patton said.

Deceit looked into his eyes for a long moment, then nodded gravely before adding, “Then Virgil can stay with me tonight, and you can get some actual sleep.”

Patton’s face scrunched in distress. “Janus-!”

“Thank you, Patton. For everything you’ve done for me. But you need rest.” Something they both agreed on, not that Virgil would ever admit to it.

“Will you…?” Patton glanced worriedly at Virgil.

“Yes, Patton. I’ll tell him. It will be fine, Patton. I promise. Go to Thomas.”

Patton glanced a moment at Virgil, then bent down over Deceit. From his angle, Virgil couldn’t tell what he was doing, but it seemed like he was whispering something in Deceit’s ear. Deceit whispered something back, and Patton stood back up, tears forming in his eyes. They were both smiling softly. Virgil felt a pang of jealousy throbbing in his heart, knowing he’d never be the recipient of such fondness. Patton wiped his face on his sleeve, then walked over to Virgil, expression somber.

“Virgil,” he said, voice low. “Please, please, don’t let Janus do anything… extreme. Please. I know you don’t like him much, but I’m begging you.”

Virgil sighed, but cracked a small smile. “Darn, there goes my plan to secretly help him enter the Olympics.”

Patton didn’t laugh. Virgil’s smile fell, and he said, “Yeah, sure. I’ll try.”

A corner of Patton’s mouth quirked up. “Thank you.”

Patton sunk out slowly, maintaining eye contact with Deceit until he was gone, leaving the two of them alone together. Finally.

Deceit immediately spoke up. “There’s no need for you to actually stay, Virgil. At least, no longer than you’re comfortable with staying.”

Virgil fixed his stare on the reptilian side. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? No, you’re not getting rid of me that easy. I told Patton I’d stay here, and that’s what I’m going to do. And so are you. You said you were going to tell me something?”

Deceit sighed, rolling his eyes and looking away. He looked deep in thought. That never meant good things, in Virgil’s experience.

“Do you remember what it was like? Before you left?”

The question caught Virgil by surprise. “Uh. Yeah, I guess. As much as anyone remembers things that happened years ago.”

A corner of Deceit’s mouth twitched up, not unlike Patton’s had some minutes ago. Virgil wondered who’d picked it up from whom.

“I suppose it’s too much trouble to ask if you ever missed it?”

What was his angle here? Trying to trick Virgil into reminiscing? For what purpose? Virgil’s glower deepened.

Deceit sighed. His shoulders slumped, just a fraction. “I’m only wondering, Virgil, I’m not going to bite you or anything.”

“Why do you want to know?”

Deceit met his eyes, staring levelly. Neither one said anything for what felt like ten minutes, but couldn’t have been more than ten seconds. Virgil broke away first, face flushing from such direct, intense eye contact.

“Can’t a side be curious about what it’s like to be accepted?”

“You are accepted. Sort of.”

“Sort of,” he agreed, nodding.

Virgil bit his lip. The motion drew Deceit’s eyes to it, but they snapped back up to continue boring into Virgil’s. “Honestly? Not really. It was different, back then. Harder. And don’t get me wrong, it’s still hard sometimes, but it’s also easier? ‘Cause now Thomas knows how to, I don’t know, work with me? We work together now, and it’s a lot better than it was when we didn’t.”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair, fixating his gaze on the pattern in Deceit’s rug.

“When you were one of us.”

Virgil looked back at Deceit. His expression was, as usual, unreadable. “Well, yeah.”

Deceit looked away. He took a deep breath. Then he got out of bed.

“What are you doing?!”

Deceit snapped his fingers.

“Baking a pie. What does it look like I’m doing?”

He was now dressed in his best attire, though not quite fully. Virgil was reminded of the courtroom. Whatever Deceit was planning, it couldn’t be good. Virgil could feel his panic rising.

“Patton said-”

Deceit frowned and snapped again, conjuring a pair of yellow socks.

“Patton doesn’t control what I do.”

He put the socks on.

“I said-”

Pulled out a pair of shiny shoes from beneath his bed.

“You said you would try. You tried. It’s not your fault you didn’t succeed.”

Put on one shoe.

“What are you even going to do?!”

Then the other.

“Take a walk.”

Deceit stood up, straightening out his suit and checked his inner breast pocket for something, patting it for extra measure.

“What?”

He stood in front of Virgil. He looked shorter without his hat. His hair was a mess of curls. They looked soft.

“I left my favorite hat in the Imagination. I need to go fetch it.”

Virgil blinked incredulously.

“Why now?”

“Patton would hardly let me out of his sight, let alone this room.”

“Ask Roman or Remus to get it.”

“Alas, I hid it too well. Neither of them would be able to find it.”

“Ask one of them to make you a new one!”

“Are you going to let me go or not?”

“Give me one good reason I should!”

Deceit gave him yet another unreadable expression.

“You want the truth?”

“From you? That would be nice, yeah!”

Virgil was getting frantic. He could feel, somewhere deep within, that if he let Deceit walk out the door, he would never see him again.

The thought was unbearable.

“The truth,” Deceit scoffed, “is that you win.”

Virgil froze, uncomprehending.

“Wh- What?”

“Patton loves you. He says he loves me, too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. So we were a secret. He said he was fine with just me. But I’m not fine with just him.”

Virgil could not believe what he was hearing. It had to be a lie.

“I also love you. I’ve loved you for so long.” Tears were streaming from his eyes. “I thought- maybe you-” He had to stop to stem the flow of tears trailing down his cheeks and take a deep breath.

Virgil was frozen. He could not think of a single thing to say, or even think. His mind was stuck on three words.

“You made it very clear that you don’t feel the same. You don’t want anything to do with me. And you’re right. I wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He wiped away a stray tear. Virgil wanted to do it for him, and to punch whoever had hurt him so much he’d started crying.

Oh. That would be him.

“And don’t think no one’s noticed how hard you’ve tried to separate Patton and me.” He sniffled. “So I’m giving you what you want. Removing the unwanted leg of the love triangle. You want Patton? He’s yours. You want me gone? I’m gone.”

Gone? What did he mean, gone?

“I mean you don’t have to worry about me ‘manipulating’ Patton anymore. I’m honestly surprised you found me in the first place. I thought for sure no one would notice until after everything was settled.”

No. What…

“Were you upset that I survived? Just one more day and all your problems would have disappeared. Well, here’s your chance. I’ll leave you and him and everyone else alone. Forever.”

Forever? As in...

“Yes.”

No. No. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t mean...

“What do you want from me, then?! Stop giving me mixed signals, and just tell me!”

Virgil looked down at the serpentine side, at the tears in his lovely, long lashes, the anguish in his eyes, obscured by the red puffiness of his eyelids, the pained grimace that didn’t belong on his lips. Anxiety stood there, watching in slow-motion as his racing thoughts came to a conclusion that he’d known for so long but never truly acknowledged.

Why he’d been so jealous not only over Patton spending time with him, but over him spending time with Patton. Jealous over the fact that Patton was the one being flirted with, being teased, being stared at with such wistfulness. Jealous that they were together, without Virgil.

Why he’d been terrified, just as Patton was, that if he didn’t constantly have him in sight, that if he’d so much as blinked, he’d be back there, screaming over the cold body of someone he loved.

So he did the only thing he could think of, the thing he’d been wanting to do for the last few minutes, hours, days, years, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t.

Virgil grabbed Janus by his lapels and pulled him into a kiss. It was sudden and unexpected, and the impact kind of hurt his teeth, but if this was the only way he could get through to him, so be it.

Janus melted into it, after a moment of shock. Virgil pulled him closer, wrapping an arm behind the smaller side’s neck possessively. Janus embraced him tightly around the chest, almost falling backward from the way they were leaned over.

After an eternity, they separated. Virgil loosened his grip, but did not let go, resting his forehead against the shorter side’s head, eyes still closed.

“You love me?” he asked, voice small.

He said nothing, but Virgil could feel his nod. For the first time in what felt like forever, Virgil smiled, albeit with a bittersweet joy.

“I love you, too, Janus. I’m sorry. I’m so- I’m so fucking sorry it took you wanting to die for me to say it. But I want you here, with me. With Patton.”

They stood there, holding one another. Virgil didn’t want to let go. But he did.

They needed to talk. But they could do that later, with Patton. Janus needed rest. They all did.

Before they could do anything about it, the door opened and Patton took one step inside before stopping. He looked from Janus to Virgil and back.

“Janus? Why are you dressed like that? What’s going on?”

Janus shared a glance with Virgil. They both looked back to Patton.

Then they both burst into laughter.

“Guys!?”

Janus stumbled backwards to sit on his bed. Virgil doubled over, his own knees threatening to collapse from the emotional roller coaster this night had been.

“Patton, dearest, come here,” Janus said, holding out a hand as he wiped away his tears. Tears of joy, this time, and the thought swelled Virgil’s heart.

Patton gave Virgil a worried glance as he crossed the room toward Janus, only to be pulled, yelping, into the latter’s lap.

“Janus! Virgil-”

“Has something he’d like to say to us. Doesn’t he?” Janus’s eyes were so warm, so mirthful, and yet there was still some hesitation, some fear. It was time to put a stop to that doubt, once and for all.

Virgil shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and hid behind his bangs. Despite knowing the likely outcome, he was- surprise, surprise- anxious about actually voicing it. He never thought he’d ever have to actually say it, and the last few minutes didn’t count, because Janus said it first. He gave himself a moment to compose himself.

He stared at the two of them, the two he’d fallen deeply and wholly in love with, and took a deep breath.

Then another.

One more-

“Virgil,” Janus said, his voice tender and gentle and oh, how Virgil loved that it was directed at him, “if you don’t want to do this now-”

“No,” he said, shaking himself out, “this ends here. Or, begins, I guess.”

Patton looked between them again, comprehension dawning as he looked into Virgil’s eyes. No doubt he’d noticed the eyeshadow by now.

“Patton. Janus. I, uh, I like. You?” Virgil cringed. “No, wait! I can do better!”

They waited patiently, with watery eyes and tender smiles. God, Virgil loved them.

“I love you. Both of you.” Virgil exhaled, eyes closed. There. It was over.

There was whispering, then the sound of cloth and springs and movement and footsteps. Virgil opened his eyes to see Janus and Patton standing side-by-side and hand-in-hand in front of him, holding out their free hands toward him.

He took them gratefully and they pulled him in to plant a kiss on both of his cheeks. His face burned.

“We love you, too, Virgil.”

---

@mimssides look what i did! happy ending! (don’t read the other one lol)

[sambinnie]

1. Happy Mabon! Every autumn, I forget that the darkness comes clanging down in a great rush in the mornings. One day, I am greeted by a pinking sunrise. 48 hours later, it’s so dark on my run to the river that I have to stop a passing runner and check the time, in case my disturbed sleep sent me dressing and leaving the house at 2am. This summer may not have given us those mornings where it’s so hot I can barely get out of the water, where those early hours feel like full silent days carved out just for me to sit in the light and wait for everyone else to wake up, where the only extra thing I put on to run home is my trainers — I look at my waiting winter gear, neoprene socks and gloves, head torch, two more thickening jumpers, hat, thermal mittens — but every season, every day, is beautiful.

Today we go early for celebrations, and the water is silky, and Orion hangs over us with his phallic sword dangling and Betelgeuse winking on one shoulder. The near-full moon spotlights us and I feel almost ready for the shortening days.

2. Hilary Mantel continues to be a literary god. How does she write with that clarity? How can I ever speak with her calm good sense and wit? 

3. We have two main problems at the moment, as far as I can see. a) What we’re doing (“curating” our lives; twitter spats; purity spirals; division and isolation; wanting ‘debates’ that can only be won or lost; encouraging people to buy more things; trying to buy our happiness; letting marketers tell us how we feel about the world rather than encouraging major moral lessons from throughout the ages to challenge us on our weaknesses; refusing to accept that life is suffering; asking self-care to be a plaster for everything we don’t have) and b) what we’re not doing (joining together to stand against those with more money and power; protecting the people who have even less power and voice than we do as a matter of course; learning from history; protecting nature above all else; prioritising going for walks; learning to repair things and campaigning to make things repairable; having a basic belief in human dignity for all, not just those with whom we agree; accepting that truly, we are all different and no amount of shaming or disgust will change that; working to shape our societies, culture, economies, production, food supplies and communications around improving — not just sustaining — the air, water and land, and fighting to ensure all of those new shapes protect women and children).

Individualism has morphed into something so completely self-destructive that we’ve forgotten we need nature more than anything — literally, more than anything — and we need to unionise and unite and put aside differences and work together even with people we don’t like. 

Because when there are wicked people in power, when it’s genuinely exhausting to think about all the corrupt, venal, toxic, divisive, false, and cruel things they have done since coming to power, those people love to watch everyone below pointing their fingers at one another, saying, You, You’re The Enemy, You’re The Problem, while corrupt populist leaders rub their bellies and chuckle at another promise broken, another mass death on their hands, another building site on a protected forest. Do you understand the stakes here? Do you understand that it’s actual survival? It’s not about being right any more, it’s not about besting someone in the argument. It’s about having decision makers who can not only ensure there is still food to eat and air to breathe, but that relations both within a country and between countries are built on care, and support, and compassion, and believing in human dignity. And while it sounds wishy-washy and hands-clappy it’s the schmaltzy, sentimental truth. It’s the only one, really. 

If we instead continue to believe every single day that my feelings are the most important, that my beliefs are the right ones, that I’ve got to prove those baddies there are evil and awful and wrong, then honestly, what the fuck? If we’re happy to live in a country where hostile architecture is the starting point for all public builds, where we send refugee boats away from our shores, where affiliate links are a career goal, where we haven’t stormed the Daily Mail offices with accounts of all our lovely immigrant friends and family and had a huge feast together and compared our long and tangled family trees, then come on. It’s only a race to the bottom if we all keep running. 

Because, pressingly, whatever the spark of a major global conflict — assassination, fuel shortages, hyperinflation, invasion — the kindling is almost always a populace fed pure hatred for months, for years, until they can’t even taste it anymore but are ready to spew it out again, and are ready to use another populace as the receptacle. And hatred is brewed up in silence and isolation, and in the ashes of bridges burned between disparate groups. 

And on that note, I’m not a conspiracy theorist, mainly because I don’t believe governments are generally competent enough to manage Grand Plans, but it’s annoying that technology and social trends and culture have developed in such a way that no one knocks on anyone’s door for a chat as a matter of course now, that it’s a given that a ringing phone triggers anxiety, that it’s not the norm for cups of tea with your neighbours, that we don’t know each other’s neighbourhoods, that we don’t even talk on the phone, with live words and intonation and synchronised laughter, but in text, in WhatsApp chats, in tapped out words and symbols that we know can be screen-grabbed and misinterpreted, that we know are kept, filtered and sold by the tech companies. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s just a reality that every single one of us can choose to do differently. 

Sometimes exactly the right thing comes along at the right time. All of us here watched About a Boy at the weekend, a film which is so wonkily weighted and oddly rhythmed, but a perfect depiction of everything I’m banging on about here. Hugh Grant’s character likes being alone. He’s happy that way. It suits him. It’s his choice. Then, between one thing and another, he finds himself drawn into a world of a suicidal single mother, a duck-murdering young boy, more single mothers, more tricky teens, plus exes and mothers-in-law and awkward support groups. And it turns out that actually, being with people is better. Being uncomfortable often develops you as a person. Constantly prioritising only yourself produces a waxen, pointless baby. Making shared sacrifices might just be the point of being alive. Remember that to be human is to be flawed. That no one is ever completely right, and no one is ever completely wrong. That the boring stuff makes us feel good, and the glossy stuff, if all we strive for is gloss, doesn’t. 

If you want anything practical, here are the things that have really helped me over the last few years:

Writing a letter or email regularly to my MP, to CEOs of organisations, to anyone I want to communicate my strong feelings and how I’d like things to be done better. Tweeting eats your soul. It’s a horrible myth the media pretends is important. It really, really isn’t.

Inviting people to go in front of me in queues, in traffic, getting on to buses and trains. It lowers my stress levels right down.

Learning the names of my neighbours and people I meet regularly on walks and letting them learn mine. (I definitely haven��t just decided I loathe a neighbour because they cut a bird-hatching tree down in their garden on the last day of the year it was legal to do so. It’s fine.)

Joining a few political parties, and the closest thing I have to a union

Making something, anything — everything can be done with love, and learning to not get sucked into the capitalist conceit of having to make it perfect, sellable, exhibitable is a genuine gift to yourself; making a cake or a film or a coaster and not putting it on social media, letting it be ugly or serviceless and loving it anyway. I felt extremely overwhelmed the other evening, but instead of doom-scrolling I knitted a… I don’t know, something flat and woollen, and it helped to have my hands and eyes working on directionless introspective creation. 

Trying to stop hating. Every time I want to tell a negative story in my head about someone, I attempt to turn it into something positive: how unhappy that person must be, what they must be missing out on. It’s so nauseatingly Pollyanna-ish, and of course it isn’t always successful, and of course every single day brings a hundred thousand examples of cruelty and injustice and wickedness, but the alternative only makes my life feel worse, so why would I indulge that? 

Teaching myself the names of birds, trees, flowers, clouds and constellations. I’m still at the most basic levels on all of these, but the difference one feels in the world when you can name things  — let alone use them and know their stories — is a very real sort of magic. (For that reason I hope to read this book very soon.) This episode of The Cut is also good on the wonder and power of learning the names of the weeds that grow in your nearest pavement crack. 

4. Creating anything is always a gamble, isn’t it, but writing a book you actually like for once and seeing it slowly and beautifully sink to the bottom of a river never to be seen again is ever so slightly crushing. However, it turns out even Thom Yorke feels that way, so I am comforted. 

5. I’m sure I’ve mentioned plenty of these before, but if you want some suggestions of where to find joy, here are my favourites from the last year or so:

I was given Lucy Easthope’s book, When the Dust Settles, for work recently, and I was surprised and delighted to discover the most uplifting, hopeful, human and rightfully angry book I’ve read in a long time. Do yourself a favour and preorder it. I bought this other book for my own birthday, gave it to a housemate to give to me, forgot about it, and was delighted to later unwrap He Used Thought As A Wife. Laughed a lot, cried twice. Marvellous. 

Now even the youngest housemate here can recite John Finnemore sketches and sing the songs. Has also taught them various composers, gods, logical fallacies and gothic story tropes. Also v funny. Oh, Kate Beaton! Her two books (Hark! A Vagrant and Step Aside Pops) are a bit like a comic-book version of Finnemore, but swearier and sexier and utterly unsuitable for all the housemates who have read it and been educated about the Brontes, Katherine Sui Fun Cheung, Tom Longboat, Nancy Drew, Ida B. Wells, Sacagawea, and the Borgias. 

Had to give Inside a restraining order against me for the sake of us all, but Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade is a masterpiece of writing, acting, sound design and optimism. Spy is dumb action comedy polished to perfection, and Yasujirō Ozu’s Good Morning seems like the inspiration for almost all US arthouse films since 1990, and is also beautiful, funny, thoughtful, and good. 

Taylor Swift’s Evermore, like all brilliant albums, isn’t completely perfect. But most of the songs are. And Hole’s classic Live Through This is still just ideal for turning up very, very loud after a tricky day, for the enjoyment of any neighbours who may have hacked down a bird-friendly tree on the last day of February. 

Watched both series of Liam Williams’ Ladhood when I had a week off this summer, and really relished the location, the intention, and the writing. More please. 

Miles Jupp and Justin Edwards continue to be my comforting bedtime listening in In and Out of the Kitchen. Has it ruined Nigel Slater for me? Well, a bit, but no more than any of us deserved. 

I thought this would be a book I’d mumble through the first chapter of, then let get buried in my To Read pile, never to re-open. Instead, I found Whatever Happened to Margo? laugh-out-loud funny, drily written, and full of humanity. Excellent Women has made me want to read everything written by Barbara Pym, a goal I am slowly but surely working towards. 

6. I’ve spent the last few years trying to find hazelnut trees, and finally found a copse between a car park and a play area, full of nuts the squirrels hadn’t noticed. Now I’ve found them, the spell has been cast and I see hazel trees everywhere, on walks and on pavements and running along motorway slip roads. A tray of green and brown frilled hazelnuts now dries with the laundry. They are so beautiful. 

[yandere-ac]

Could I ask for a continuation of Yandere Redd toward Tom after he kidnapped him?

Yandere Redd X Tom Nook

Business Partners Part 2

“Well of it isn’t my favourite cousin! Come on in Casper! Let me show you these new paintings I’ve got!” The small human stepped into the ship, dripping of water as he came out of the rain. “Hello Redd! How’s it going?” He asked the fox as he approached him, holding his hands together while giving him the same smirk as always. “I’m doing great! Especially now that you’re here! Now come over here! I wanna show you this new painting I found! It’s the serene painting.” There was no doubt, Redd seemed much happier now than ever before. Casper didn’t know why exactly. But he appreciated the light nature that his boat gave off now. He looked at the painting long and hard. “Whaddaya say? It’s all yours for the low low price of-“

THUNK!

The two turned around to look over to the furniture part of the boat. “What was that?” Casper asked as he turned his whole body towards the sound. “Ehh don’t worry `bout it cuz! This old boat makes all kinds of strange noises.” Redd tried to brush the strange sound off but Caspers suspicions only got stronger once he heard just the faintest sound of someone yelling out muffled cries of help. “There it is again! Did you not hear!? It sounded like a-“ but he stopped as he felt a strong grip on his shoulder. Looking up at Redd, his expression had gone from a playful smirk to a deadly glare. “Are you gonna buy something or are you gonna get out...”

“Alright! See you later! Thank you for your business!” Redd said gleefully as the boy ran off and out of his ship. “...moron.” Redd said the last part quietly to himself. Smirking at the fact that the human just walked out of his boat, having bought a 4960 bell painting that wasn’t even real! God how he missed this. Ever since he moved from mudmore to try and find Tom again he hadn’t exactly had any time to scam gullible idiots. Speaking of Tom. Redd happily skipped over to the furniture department, treading his hands on the big door with the golden padlock. He stuck his hand down the giant pocket of his apron and rummaged through it to find the key. Once he felt it between his fingers he grabbed a hold of it and pulled it out. The silver key fit right inside the big lock, effectively opening the door for him. He brushed off any and all dirt that was left on his apron before going inside. As he pushed the big metal door open, it made a big haunting creak. Looking inside. Redd got a soft smile on his lips. There, tied up and sitting besides a bed sat his sweet sweet nookie. He was looking down on the ground. It had been three days since Redd had abducted him. He kept Tom in his little side room on his boat, there he was restrained by chains. Pretty long chains. Tom had just enough room to move around slightly so that he could hop on and off the bed. He didn’t have chains long enough for him to reach the door, maybe a few feet away. And that was the cruelest thing about the chains. Tom was so close to the door, but he just couldn’t reach it. And even if he could reach it. Redd made sure to lock it anytime he wasn’t in there with Tom.

“What’s the matter nookie? Tied up at the moment?” Nothing. No reaction, no backlash, not even a perk up. Redd let out a sigh. He knew Tom hadn’t lost all hope yet, this wasn’t the state of someone defeated. This was the state of someone who was ignoring him. He knew Tom was there, he knew he heard him. He knew the tanooki wanted to scream and shout at him. He just had to trigger that response. Redd let out a sigh as he approached his chained up lover. And as he did so, Tom scrambled back. God how he loved seeing him afraid. Redd knew there was something wrong with him. He had kidnapped and threatened to kill a little girl to press one of the most harmless owls in the world for information. He’d abducted and innocent man as he was sleeping, choosing to wake him up just so he could see the fear in is eyes before he drugged him. For gods sake, the moment Tom woke up in his boat for the first time, that was a moment of pure ecstasy. Oh he remembered it so vividly, mostly because it happened two days ago. He remembered how petrified Tom looked. How much he tried to break loose, only to fail. Redd wasn’t about to lie and say all the fear Tom showed didn’t give him immense pleasure. But he knew that was probably the height of Toms fear, or at least as long as Redd didn’t do something to him that would strike fear. But Redd did not have any intention of hurting Tom. He loved Tom. He swore to protect him before and he’ll keep that promise to this day. Even if his ways of protection was kidnapping him and keeping him tied up. But Redd wasn’t about to lie to himself. He knew that there was about a million things that he could have done before kidnapping him. But truth be told, he wanted this. He wanted to take Tom away and keep him all to himself. Because Tom would eventually move away again. And the cycle would repeat until Tom got a restraining order which would ultimately fail and Redd would kidnap him. So why not speed up the process a little. Redd wanted to skip the appetiser and go straight to the main meal. Tom.

“Oh come on Tom. Look at me. I want to see those beautiful eyes of yours.” Redd tried to solicit any kind of reaction from Tom, any sort of scoff or wince. But nothing. Not even a peep. Redd let out a deep sigh at Toms refusal. He didn’t like him like this. Tom was a very passionate guy, but his default setting when it comes to confrontation is neutrality. He didn’t want to satisfy Redd with a reaction, but it was getting harder and harder as he had to physically stop himself from gritting his teeth in anger. “You know Tom. I always hated when you did this. It’s a stupid way of coping and you know you’re gonna have to talk to me eventually. You’re putting me in an awkward situation where my hands are...tied up-“ “shut up...” Redd looked down at Tom in almost shock. He knew that Tom would burst but he didn’t think It’d be that easy. “Excuse me?” “SHUT! UP!” Toms voice was filled to the brim with spite. He was now looking at the fox dead in his eyes. And Redd had to admit. Even though he said that he wanted a reaction, the look in Toms eyes, it almost frightened him. “You insensitive bastard! How dare you! How dare you try and make jokes when my children are out there without a father! I didn’t think you could possibly sink any lower than you already were but apparently I was wrong.” Tom shouted at Redd, his voice cracking at several moments. “...you disgust me Redd...I am disgusted and ashamed that I ever considered you a friend. I am disgusted that I ever...” “you ever what? That you used to date me? That we used to kiss? Used to live together? Tell me Tom? What is it!? Tell me what you hate so much about me! There is nothing you can say that I’ve never heard or thought myself before! I’m a scammer, I’m a fraud! I trick people, I hurt people. It’s what I do! I’m a FOX!” Redds said, his voice gradually getting angrier and angrier. “Sorry I’m not perfect like you are Tom! But- but that’s the thing! You were just always so PERFECT weren’t you! You had a moral compass, you were so friendly and charming and polite! YOU WERE THE ONLY PERSON WHO FUCKING BELIEVED IN ME!!!” Now it was Redds turn to explode. He could feel the stinging feeling of tears forming in his eyes. After the sudden outburst, he stayed quiet for a few seconds, breathing heavily while maintaining eye contact with Tom. His posture was seething with rage as he broke the silence.

“And everyday when I was with you, I truly felt like I was loved. During the years I was with you, those were the few years of my life where I felt genuine happiness. So the day you stopped believing in me, was the day I stopped being myself. It was the day that all of my past hate and insecurities came flushing back and consumed me. It tore into every last part of me. The day you left, was the day that your Redd, your boyfriend died.” Redds voice was now a bit calmer. “You made me so happy before, you made me feel I was capable of love, you made me fully experience life. But then...you made me experience hell, pure and unfiltered hell. Meanwhile you were out experiencing heaven. You have no clue what life without you was like, how many times I wanted to...it changed me nookie...you changed me. You made me into who I am today. By putting me through that hell, you crafted me into the monster standing before you...” Redd gently grabbed ahold of Toms chin, tilting it upwards slightly so that he would look at him. In his eyes he saw nothing but fear. The type of fear where you feel like crying.

“And now you have to deal with that monster...”

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

Okay this is slowly turning into a Tom Nook/Raymond blog. But it’s not my fault you guys send me such good requests regarding the two!!! Like I’m good at executing ideas that are presented to me, not actually coming up with ideas! Anyways, the next fic is gonna be about a new character. Someone I haven’t written for yet ;))) I’m not gonna say who , but it is an NPC

[santiagoswagger]

i've never fallen from quite this high

Amy's birthday falls one month into her very new relationship with Jake, and he promises her he has plans to blow her mind.

Set sometime after “The Funeral.”

In all the years Amy’s known Jake, she’s been witness to the downfall of most of his relationships, and she knows they all tend to follow a similar pattern.

He was disorganized and completely consumed by his work throughout most of them, perpetually forgetting to show up for dinners or drinks because a case always took precedence. He could be selfish, unfiltered with his words and competitive to a fault. Most of the women he dated never seemed to last very long, and if they did, Jake usually found a reason to end things. There were a few exceptions, just as there are with any rule, but Jake was nothing if not consistent. He was a lone wolf, even in his personal life.

But the Jake Peralta that Amy finds herself dating now might as well be a stranger.

In the month since they decided to screw being light and breezy, she’s observed several small changes in him that often have her questioning if he’s the same man who once took her on a date designed for maximum humiliation.

When they make plans, he immediately adds them to the calendar on his phone so he won’t forget. He shares his snacks with her at the movies, even if he rolls his eyes while passing her the popcorn bucket. He takes the time to compliment her whether she’s dressed up for a date night out or wearing her ratty sweats on the couch at home, and genuinely means it either way. He’s still overly competitive, but that only makes her like him more.

She catches herself staring at him from across their adjoined desks, in awe of the person he was and the person he’s becoming. She can’t believe she’s actually falling for her goofy, infuriating partner. It’s scary, just as any big change is for a control freak like Amy, but she’s starting to believe that anything worthwhile begins with a little fear.

Much to Amy’s chagrin, Jake catches her mid-stare and smirks.

“Amy, I know you think I look extremely handsome in my new flannel, but this is a workplace. What would the Captain say?” he asks smugly, keeping his voice quiet enough so their coworkers can’t overhear. It’s something they’ve both perfected over the last month.

She rolls her eyes but can’t stop a traitorous grin from materializing on her face.

“Jake, we both know you took that flannel from the lost and found last week. And I wasn’t doing anything,” she says unconvincingly, burying her head in the open file next to her keyboard. “I was thinking. About my case. Because I’m a detective.”

Jake leans back in his chair and crosses his arms behind his head. “Does this ‘thinking’ have anything to do with a major life event happening this weekend?”

Amy cocks her head to the side. “’Major life event?’ What are you talking about?”

Jake lets out a loud, triumphant laugh, startling Hitchcock and Scully from their afternoon naps a few feet away.

“Amy, please tell me you didn’t forget your own birthday. No, wait, please tell me you did so I can make fun of you.”

Her jaw drops in horror. Amy Santiago, queen of organization, forgot her own birthday. Work had been so crazy the last few weeks and nights spent analyzing her planner were few and far between now that she had someone to go home with after work so something was bound to fall through the cracks. But she would rather let Charles cook dinner for her than let Jake know that.

“Shut up,” she says indignantly. “Just because I don’t obsess over my birthday like some people doesn’t mean I forgot it.”

Jake leans forward with a softer smile than before. It’s fond, almost. “You did, but that’s okay. I’ve got a few things up my sleeve for Saturday.”

“You do?” she says, surprised.

“Mmm-hmm,” he nods, grinning. “Prepare to have your mind blown.”

She laughs. “Okay, I’ll hold you to it.”

As they pack up their desks to leave for the night, Amy allows herself to wonder what Jake could possibly have planned. It’s their first birthday or holiday as a couple, and it’s so early. Their relationship is still so new and exciting, but a birthday is a big commitment. They haven’t even discussed where they see things going or if there’s a future for them. She doesn’t want this birthday to be the thing that scares him away before the relationship really gets off the ground. She’s pretty sure it could be something great if they let it.

Amy wakes up Saturday morning to the smell of fresh coffee wafting into her bedroom. It’s a shock for two reasons: she’s fairly certain she ran out of coffee grounds earlier this week and she knew Jake was scheduled to work an overtime shift today. The rumpled sheets next to her confirm his absence, but they’re still slightly warm to the touch; he must have just brewed her a pot before stumbling out the door.

She takes the time to brush her hair and teeth, and wash and moisturize her face – she refuses to let her morning routine slip, even if it’s her birthday – before walking out into the kitchen. It’s where she finds a full pot of coffee, complete with a new bag of beans from her favorite neighborhood café. It’s annoyingly expensive hipster coffee, and she can’t believe Jake shelled out the cash for it.

She also finds a note written in Jake’s awful chicken scratch on some stationery he must have grabbed from her office. Lucky for him, Amy’s been forced to decipher a few hundred of his case files over the years and can read his appalling handwriting without a problem.

Ames,

Happy Birthday, weirdo! I’m sorry I have to work on the day of your birth but I promise to make it up to you later ;) See you at 5.

Jake

She smiles as she finishes reading before pouring herself a large cup of steaming coffee and taking a long sip. She sighs, and she’s fairly sure it’s not just the coffee warming her from the inside out.

Truthfully, a day to herself is the best birthday present she could have asked for. She spends the day fielding calls and texts from her family and Kylie while also managing to organize her binders alphabetically and catch up on her very full DVR.

But by the time 5 o’clock rolls around, Jake is nowhere to be found and Amy can’t help but be a little disheartened. He had been making much more of an effort to be punctual lately, especially once he discovered what that earned him from Amy, but she supposes he hasn’t completely let his old habits die. She does her best to shrug it off. He probably just got caught up finishing a case, she thinks.

By 5:30, Amy is concerned. By 6, she’s spiraling.

He’s never been this late to meet her before, and never this late without sending an emoji-filled apology text. She, more than most, knows things can get out of hand at the precinct within an instant, but a shadow of a doubt still manages to nestle its way into Amy’s brain as the minutes tick by without word from her boyfriend.

She pours herself a glass of wine and takes a huge gulp. She knows from past observations that a month is usually Jake’s tipping point in a relationship. It’s entirely possible that he’s starting to have second thoughts about turning their friendship into something more. The thought rips through her like lightning.

It’s then that her front door opens and an exhausted looking Jake practically stumbles into the living room carrying two stuffed takeaway bags. His hair is a mess and his flannel is even more rumpled than usual. Her previously racing thoughts are immediately quelled when she sees him.

“Ames, I’m so sorry but I couldn’t find the restaurant and then the order was wrong and then I had to go to a different place and it was a whole thing,” he says in a breathless jumble. She can barely make out individual words.

“Are you mad?” he asks as he catches his breath. He looks genuinely gutted at the mere possibility he’s disappointed her.

She puts her wine glass down on the coffee table and moves to wrap him up in a firm hug. She can feel the tension leave his body at her touch.

“No, I’m not mad,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “But I wish you had texted me so I knew you were alright.”

“Phone died,” he says sheepishly. She pulls away slightly and gently swats his arm.

“I thought I bought you a charger for your desk!”

“I may or may not have been playing Kwazy Cupcakes all day and it totally drained my battery,” he laughs. “The precinct was so boring today, Ames.”

She smirks. “Did you miss me, Peralta?”

“Pshh, no,” he says, eyes darting around the room.

“You did,” she says smugly and he rolls his eyes, visibly grinning. “Now, tell me about this food.”

She pulls away from him to rummage through the plastic bags he’d placed on her dining table when he came home. It smells unbelievably familiar.

“I, um,” he stutters. “Remember when you told me about your favorite birthday parties as a kid? When all of your extended family would come over and it was just a giant party with games and the best Cuban food?”

“Yeah, I do,” she says softly. It had been such a throwaway conversation, late night memories shared while cuddling on his couch in front of the TV after a long shift. She’s genuinely touched that it stayed with him.

“Well, I found a place in Park Slope that sells those cheesy guava pastries your mom used to make you every year on your birthday,” he says, rubbing his arm uncomfortably. “But they messed up the order and I had to drive around to a bunch of Cuban restaurants to find them. That’s why I was so late.”

Maybe it’s the nostalgic smell of the pasteles de queso y guayaba bringing back her childhood, or maybe it’s the look of pure vulnerability on Jake’s face, but Amy can feel the warmth from this morning’s coffee returning tenfold. A lump begins to grow in her throat and she swallows hard to tamp it down.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she says, astonished. “I haven’t had one of these in forever.”

He’s rubbing his arm again, a nervous tick. “I hope they’re right. The woman at the last place I tried didn’t speak English so it was a lot of charades and pointing.”

She laughs. “They’re definitely right. They smell just like I remember.”

She puts the bag down and walks quickly over to where he’s standing in her kitchen doorway. She kisses him delicately, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek, thumb sweeping his jaw as she pulls away. His eyes are half-mast but they’re shining brightly.

“Happy birthday, Amy,” he whispers, moving to gently grab her hand as it pulls away from his face.

She scrunches her nose and smiles. “Thank you. Now, are you ready to try some cheese and guava pastries?”

He wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, no, thank you,” he says vehemently, backing out of her embrace.

She walks closer. “Please? For my birthday? You did say you would make it up to me after working all day.”

He groans. “Fine. But this is the last time I do anything nice for you.”

She smiles. “Deal.”

[multiverse-in-archive]

GLaDOS and What She can Potentially Tell Us About Chell’s Character

((So decided to make an analysis, finally, after reading way too much into GLaDOS’s voicelines.

When it comes to blank slate videogame protagonist characters, admittedly I’m the type to analyze them based off of what you can and can’t do in the games they’re in without a consequence of some sort [like death or contradicting one of the few previously established character traits] as well as how the other characters react and interact with them. It’s really all I get to go off of.

Now, I know GLaDOS is not the most reliable resource to analyze Chell off of, considering not only her bitterness and bias, but also that not all of her observations of Chell are accurate. After all, Chell is not mute, just refuses to speak out of spite.

However, she’s the only character we have that has the most insight into Chell as a person, and with things that she’s either exaggerating or straight up lying about, we can distinguish that by what can be observed of her in the gameplay. Plus, with some of them, I doubt she’d bring them up if there was no reason for her to believe bringing them up wouldn’t hold some truth or exploit some sort of insecurity. She’s the calculating type that aims for weak points she sees rather than just throwing shit out and hoping she gets lucky, you know?

“But didn’t she write the files? Or lie about what was in them?”

She may have edited and/or exaggerated them, but I think at least some of the things were already there before she got her hands on them. After all, there’s this. Which would imply that the scientists themselves would have made those comments in the files.

And considering how uncooperative Chell was with her application process [refusingto even speak to HR, answering essay questions with nonsense in bianary] then they’d probably thought rather bitterly of her, and it would reflect in the file.

[Side note, don’t really agree with the Half Life Wiki suggesting that Chell signed up for this {at least, willingly} when everything in the Lab Rat comic pointed to the opposite being the case.]

Now with all that out of the way, let’s finally have a look at some of GLaDOS’s comments about Chell and how they reflect her based off of what we the players see of her in game or what we can infer her reactions are to them by how GLaDOS approaches them.

The Fat Jokes

"Congratulations. Not on the test."

"Most people emerge from suspension terribly undernourished. I want to congratulate you on beating the odds and somehow managing to pack on a few pounds."  - Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 3

"Hmm. This Plate must not be calibrated to someone of your... generous... ness. I'll add a few zeros to the maximum weight."

"You seem to have defeated its load-bearing capacity. Well done. I'll just lower the ceiling."

"Look at you. Sailing through the air majestically. Like an eagle. Piloting a blimp." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 9

“What, but Chell’s not fat-”

Yeah, I know, this is just more about what Chell’s potential response to it is.

And telling by how this tends to be one of GLaDOS’s go to's, it does seem like it’s something that at least annoys her.

Then again, though, it could also be just GLaDOS trying to poke at the most common insecurity among women. And I think GLaDOS even admitted to that being the reason she goes to it so often here and here. So it’s really up to interpretation.

Though personally, I think it’s something that annoys Chell but at the same time it doesn’t really get to her, if it makes sense? Just a nuisance at worst.

Comments on Chell’s Parentage [or Lack Thereof]

"It also says you were adopted. So that's funny, too." -Portal, Boss Battle, After Curiosity Core is destroyed

"Don't let that 'horrible person' thing discourage you. It's just a data point. If it makes you feel any better, science has now validated your birth mother's decision to abandon you on a doorstep." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 3

"I'm going through the list of test subjects in cryogenic storage. I managed to find two with your last name. A man and a woman. So that's interesting. It's a small world." - Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 15

"I have a surprise waiting for you after this next test. Telling you would spoil the surprise, so I'll just give you a hint: It involves meeting two people you haven't seen in a long time." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 16

"I'll bet you think I forgot about your surprise. I didn't. In fact, we're headed to your surprise right now. After all these years. I'm getting choked up just thinking about it." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 17

Surprisingly the orphan/adopted jokes are actually fewer than I remember. With how Wheatley tried to imitate GLaDOS by throwing around “fatty” and making a comment about Chell being adopted that one time, I kinda thought that it was almost as common as the fat jokes.

Though, to be fair, the adoption comment goes back as far as the end of Portal, and GLaDOS actually did a whole bit where she pretended that she found Chell’s parents. So it left more of an impression on me than the fat comments actually did.

As for whether or not it’s true? It’s most likely. After all, the adoption/orphan comments are protocol for specifically dealing with orphan test subjects. Also in general Aperture seems to have it out for orphans in that test subject type listing thing. [credit to the-wheatley-core go check them out cowards-]

"But Chell’s a daughter from bring your daughter to work d-"

The file said she’s adopted, so ye. Adopted daughter is still daughter.

Furthermore, the Bring your Daughter to Work Day incident probably orphaned Chell all over again, so she’s like. An orphan twice over.

As for Chell’s feelings on this? I think from what GLaDOS says here that Chell probably did not take the surprise very well. Granted, she probably wasn’t expecting it to actually be anything good. She probably didn’t have her hopes up. But she was probably seriously pissed that GLaDOS went through all that trouble just for it to lead to... nothing. All for the sake of mocking her.

Further implied by GLaDOS rubbing salt in the wounds.

I think this would mean that this is a bit of a sore spot for Chell in general and that this was one of the few moments that genuinely upset her.

Calling Chell a Horrible Person [and a Loner]

"You're not a good person. You know that, right?"

"Good people don't end up here." -Portal, during the later part of the Escape

"All your other friends couldn't come either because you don't have any other friends. Because of how unlikable you are."

"It says so right here in your personnel file: Unlikable. Liked by no one. A bitter, unlikable loner whose passing shall not be mourned." -Portal, Boss Battle, After Curiosity Core is destroyed

"Well done. Here come the test results: You are a horrible person. I'm serious, that's what it says: A horrible person. We weren't even testing for that." -Portal 2, Single Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 2

GLaDOS really goes into calling Chell a bad person. There’s like. So many instances of this.

Though I don’t believe that Chell’s a bad person necessarily, there can be some things that might make one believe she is [outside of bias and clear guilt tripping/gaslighting].

If you’ve read my Chell headcanon shit, you might remember that I state that I think that Chell’s a rather spiteful person. Not only does she stubbornly refuse to speak purely to spite Aperture as a whole, but it’s implied from her file that she gave the scientists a lot of grief, to the point they recommend not ever testing her [it’s stated to be her tenacity, but tbh I think for Chell spite was at least a major motivatorfor her tenacity. After all, what else did she have?]. And once again, it seems that they view her rather bitterly if GLaDOS didn’t put that in the file herself.

Not to mention that GLaDOS manipulates her into destroying the Morality Core by appealing to her spite. After all, it’s not possible in game to simply do as she says and return it to her. You have to destroy it.

Even Wheatley caught onto Chell acting out of spite. He tried appealing to that when trying to convince her to get onto the conveyer belt to the mashy spike plate.

As for the loner bit, that seems to hold true to, considering how well Chell took the isolation she had to suffer. As far as she knew in the first game [at least at first], she was all alone and didn't so much as crack.

Not to mention in the second games the other characters' reactions imply that she's rather standoffish overall.

That combination can lead to someone being rather... difficult to work with...

But to be honest, I think she’s also capable of compassion, or at least mercy, and can be cooperative if she finds you trustworthy enough.

For the compassion [or mercy depending on how you view it] I have some examples that I’ll elaborate on in the Companion Cube and Wheatley sections, but there’s a couple of others I can get into.

Remember when I said I partially judge a blankslate character based off of what is and isn’t an option gameplaywise that doesn’t result in consequence.

Not only is it optional to save the Oracle Turret without consequence, but it even rewards you with an achievement and some neat foreshadowing from the character.

Then there is the time that Chell found GLaDOS at her lowest; a potato, being eaten alive by a bird.

Now, gameplaywise, you can’t advance without PotaTOS, hell, PotaTOS sits on the switch in the nest you find her in, but story and characterwise, Chell could have just went on her way, let her suffer the her fate at the hands [or talons/beak] of the bird. And yet she scared the bird off of her.

And it’s not like she knew that the place was going to self destruct or that she needed GLaDOS to survive, because that wasn’t brought up until after Chell scared the bird away.

As for the cooperativeness, I want to elaborate more on that when I get to Wheatley’s section, but I will say, she did work pretty well with GLaDOS in the later half of the game, despite how shakey their alliance was. Even risking her life to disconnect Wheatley from the chasis long enough for GLaDOS to fix everything. Just going off of the slim chance that she could survive it with GLaDOS’s intervention. It was no guarantee, she probably would have thought she was dead either way if she didn’t have at least a sliver of a thought that GLaDOS would pull her back in to safety.

Now imagine how well she'd probably work with you if she genuinely believed in her partnership with you.

It may have gotten a bit off track there, but my point is that GLaDOS is not completely unfounded with her being “unlikable”. It’s clear that she holds a lot of resentment for her situation and reacts spitefully because of it, and that combined with her being a rather distant person can make it hard to deal with her [and in fact might be a deal breaker for some], but at the same time, she’s not completely unreasonable and bitchy just so long as you’re either harmless or have good intentions.

Chell’s Sense of Fashion

"That jumpsuit you're wearing looks stupid. That's not me talking, it's right here in your file. On other people it looks fine, but right here a scientist has noted that on you it looks 'stupid.'"

"Well, what does a neck-bearded old engineer know about fashion? He probably - Oh, wait. It's a she. Still, what does she know? Oh wait, it says she has a medical degree. In fashion! From France!" -Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 3, Test Chamber 15

Now, this is probably the shortest one because this is the only instance [that I know of] where GLaDOS pokes fun at her sense of fashion. And since it never comes up again, this is probably something that she sensed did not bother Chell one bit.

Though telling by how Chell had the upper half of her jumpsuit folded down and tied around her waist to expose her tops, it does seem like she cares about fashion a tad [probably favors both fashion and function], but doesn’t seem to care what other people think of her tastes, just what she likes.

The Companion Cube

"While it has been a faithful companion, your Companion Cube cannot accompany you through the rest of the test. If it could talk - and the Enrichment Center takes this opportunity to remind you that it cannot - it would tell you to go on without it because it would rather die in a fire than become a burden to you."

"You euthanized your faithful Companion Cube more quickly than any test subject on record. Congratulations." Portal, Test Chamber 17

"Oh. Did I accidentally fizzle that before you could complete the test? I'm sorry."

"Anyway, here's a new cube for you to project your deranged loneliness onto."

"I think that one was about to say 'I love you.' They ARE sentient, of course. We just have a LOT of them."  Portal 2, SIngle Player Campaign, Chapter 2, Test Chamber 7

Ah the faithful Companion Cube, everyone’s best friend. And an instance where GLaDOS tries to emotionally torment Chell while still trying to pass herself off as a automated voice back in the first game.

Is the cube truly sentient? I don’t know.

Does Chell care about it? I don’t think GLaDOS would have brought them back in the second game and taunt her with them if she didn’t believe it would cause Chell some distress.

She even gives it back to her after setting her free.

Whether or not it can talk or feel anything, I think it’s clear that Chell is rather fond of it.

Side note, I swear to god throughout Test Chamber 17 in the first game I heard like. Soft, faint humming whenever I held it. Am I just crazy? Did any of you guys experience that too? help-

Wheatley

"I have only met one other team closer and one of them was an imbecile I had to destroy."

"The other? Well..."

"I don't think I want to go through that again." -Portal 2, Co-op Campaign, Unlocking Course 4 for the first time

I don’t know about you, but I’m fairly certain the team she’s talking about is Chell and Wheatley. There is literally no other pair that would fit that description that we know of. Sure, she didn’t destroy Wheatley [literally, anyways], but he is her definition of an imbicel that she had to deal with. And Chell has not worked with anyone else before Wheatley [Not directly anyways], and it’s pretty obvious that “the other” is who GLaDOS was referring to.

And while she didn’t get to see all they did together, she witnessed Chell put enough of her trust in him to follow him to escape, even despite her best efforts, and she bared witness to the fruit of their labor later.

I think she sensed a sort of chemistry between them, noticed how well they worked together. She even felt the need to ask permission to kill him. She probably wouldn’t have if she didn’t have reason to believe that Chell was at least at one point close to him.

So that begs the question; does she really believe Chell actually did all the work?

I don’t think so.

Again, she witnessed Chell faithfully follow Wheatley, so it’s reasonable to assume that she was following his lead. Not to mention that this is not a type of strategy that Chell has attempted on her own before. Chell’s strategy in the first game was to simply to bide her time, portal in and out when the opportunity arises, destroy shit, and just wander until she got results, basically [she was kinda following Rattmann's directions, though]. This strategy was too subtle, too quiet, to be Chell’s. She even said so herself; "And now I'monto all of your little tricks." And she'd recognized that this is not how she do.

Not to mention that they all know that Wheatley knows Aperture and all its inner workings better than Chell, so even if she wanted to sabotage anything, she wouldn’t know what and where they were.

I believe she saw an opertunity to split them apart in the form of Wheatley’s betrayal. More specifically to turn Chell against him. After all, she was very quiet until he lowered the lift back down.

Of course that backfired into her turning Wheatley against Chell and Wheatley promptly turning her into a potato. Opps-

“But if they were as close as GLaDOS believed them to be, why didn’t she catch Wheatley? After all, it’s not an option to catch him in game.”

Well remember, Chell has only just met him at this point, so it’s fair that she doesn’t immediately trust him with what she’s been through. Not to mention that the last time that a core was dropped, it was a trap.

Though, I believe after that, she realized he was sincere and steadily warmed up to him. It’s never an option to drop him whenever you pick him up, after all. Now granted, you can’t progress if you could drop him down a pit, but I think characterwise we can assume that she’s just unwilling to do so, regardless of how useful he was to her in those instances.

Furthermore, I think she grew to trust him throughout chapters 3, 4, and 5, as again, she very willingly followed his lead and had faith that he would help bust her out, waiting patiently for him to do so.

Sure, she diverted a bit to flesh out his plan some [although if you wait long enough at the turret assembly line, he does tell you what to do, so this could be another instance of her following his lead without question, though I like to think because of her problem solving skills that she does it herself, but either way!], but it’s still his plan that she’s trusting him with regardless.

Plus, I think Wheatley being as casual with her as he was during chapter 5 is implication that they both felt safe with each other at that point. At least, as safe as you can feel when hiding from a pissed off over powered blood lusting AI while being forced to wander around in the dark with only a flashlight to guide you.

And yet she kept him at arm's length by not speaking to him. I doubt it was anything personal against him though, so much as it's become a long time habit and way of protecting herself at this point. So long as they were both still in Aperture, anything could happen. So to her, keeping an emotional distance from him and not verbally responding was probably the safest bet.

That, however, was what made it so easy for GLaDOS to destroy their partnership. The lack of communication would ultimately lead Wheatley to believe that Chell did not appreciate all his help, that she agreed with her even.

Chell's shutting him out ultimately led to a self fulfilling prophecy.

Welp, this took all fucking day to write, but here we go. Hope this made sense. This is just my interpretation, so take it with a grain of salt. Hope it was a fun read either way, and if I’m mistaken on something, feel free to let me know. ^^

Edit: Fixed some grammar and other mistakes, elaborated on some points, aaaaand gave credit to the little snippit of the low risk human acquisitionthing siiiince I did not get that myself-))

[hollywoodhangar]

👫 (Ed and Trisha or Ciel and Lizzie??)

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship // @thcsevoices​ // accepting // you think I am not gluttonous? you think I would only choose one of the two? wrong-o!

People who’ve met Ed ponder at the sort of terror his father must be, so imagine their surprise upon viewing interactions between him and his mother and realize, “oh god, there’s two of them”. Ed gets so much of his personality from his mother, from his tender bleeding heart for the people to his absolute stubborn mule “I will die on this hill” disposition. Neither are passive, and neither give an inch, which leads to some passionate disagreements that leads Al to a state of absolute exhaustion as he watches them split off from each other to cool off. In the Envy Elric au, Envy is the one waving their hand and saying everything will be okay.. yet they split off to drag Ed home to talk it out with Trisha, while Al handles bringing Trisha around. You wouldn’t expect it, but Envy and Al can be some pretty tough glue that brings the family back together much more quickly. They’re an entire four person unit.  But Trisha and Ed can’t stay mad at each other for long, not at all. That actually fades away quite fast, and it’s more of the guilt that keeps the distance, and pondering how to fix it. If it isn’t for Envy and Al’s quick interventions, Trisha’s always the first to close the gap, and Ed takes note of that, and puts it into practice later on. Growth. 

They share the same drinking habit. :’) They both hold cups and mugs in a very peculiar way that no one thinks is even feasible to drink from, and it’s so distinct you can’t not notice the similarity (they refuse to use the handle, they just straight up pick up the cup from its bottom and hold it that way the entire time. it earns them weird looks and has gotten them chastised from many loved ones, especially at formal events). Lowkey, it makes Hohenheim very, very emotional later when Ed & He meet up down the line, and of course that earns him quite the squint from Edward. 

Ed learned how to braid from, of course, his mama, and he learned how to be quite the speedster with it, too! She’d have him braid her hair in the morning, and he’d take it so seriously he’d march right into her room at the crack of dawn if he just so happened to be up before her and tell her it’s time for her hair styling appointment. Trisha just thought it was the sweetest thing. She slipped her own trick into him during the learning process though, passing on a ritual of her own. Slipping a sprig of chickweed between your locks during the braiding process for protection is an old Elric tradition, their own little superstition. A farmer’s superstition, at that. The protection will last for that whole day for as long as you keep that sprig bundled up nice and tight with no possible way for it to fall out. Ed always thought it was poppycock, especially as he grew older and took to science more than silly superstition. However, every now and then early in the morning, Alphonse does spot Ed fixing his hair and notices a little flick of green being tucked into the blond locks before hidden away within the signature Fullmetal braid. Ed thinks he’s being sneaky, but Al is off to the side like :3c

You wouldn’t believe it at first glance, but Trisha and Ed do get into arm wrestling matches for fun whenever the family is brought back together. It looks harmless and innocent, and it is, but Trisha is also actually teaching him how to play dirty if he should ever find himself in a match versus someone who is obviously stronger.. but reminding him to only use these “powers” for good reason, no involving it for normal play matches! Unless it’s against a military official, then go all out.  That isn’t the first time he’s learned dirty tricks from his mother, either. She’s taught him in regards for cards too, which we’ve seen him pull on Al during long train rides, and I’m sure he’s also pulled on Envy and nearly got whooped over.  The only one this will never completely snow is Hohenheim, because he knows his wife’s dirty tricks and he will quickly recognize them in Ed, too. 

They both discover their love for a good mystery novel when the subject is brought up during a conversation regarding the same author they like, mentioned by no other than Sebastian who knew of their mutual interest but figured it’d be ages before the other found out about it, so he decided to get that ball rolling all the sooner. These two completely spun out from there and talked for ages about their favorite books, and what sort of mysteries are their favorites (missing family heirlooms to murders).  It felt impeccably good to find a ground on which they’re both passionate about a subject. They share interests such as their love for games, but they hardly have time to discover much else about the other. This is a very well welcomed addition, and leads to them having their own little book club for two. Gives them a lot to theorize about, and they do love having someone to bounce theories off of before the true answer is revealed. The servants and Claudia gush about this.

It will be years before they marry, but that doesn’t stop Elizabeth from fantasizing and sharing her ideas. It makes Ciel’s cheeks burn to no end, but he’s a good fiancé, so he listens and he quietly takes note of just about everything she suggests. Matching outfits are a must, and there’s a debate going back and forth if they should be allowed to see what the other has Nina design for them to make sure it’s perfect, or if they should stick to tradition and not see one another’s attire before the wedding. Ciel thinks they can rely on Nina to make the perfect matching set, but Lizzie is ever fretful. Sebastian will notice when they’re out and about on the town scoping out competition that Ciel has his eyes lingering, window-shopping, looking at fabrics and décor in the windows that are purely for wedding ceremonies, and he has to hide the smirk when Ciel actually goes inside to have a better look. The demon can swear he hears the boy murmur to himself about how this is what Lizzie was talking about, but it doesn’t look quite right.. and then the Earl’ll take notice to the damn demon surveying him and storm from the store in a flustered huff.  The boy has no reason to look so onward into the future when he likely will not even make it so far.. but unfortunately, Elizabeth keeps the smallest flame of a dream alive inside of him, keeping alive the flare of excitement, however incredibly, incredibly small it is.. and Nana’s enthusiasm certainly doesn’t help, especially when she offers her own pointers from her own wedding, and says she’ll gift them the cloth she used during her own sacred ceremony.  Something olde, something new, Something borrowed, something blue.

Frances was incredibly intimidating as an instructor, but Elizabeth is more gentle and much more approachable. When she inquires Ciel about wanting to be taught how to handle a firearm (met with protest, but eventually weaned into submission through much persuasion on her part), she offers him, in exchange, the chance to learn how to master a sword. Ciel is, in truth, made curious by the prospect. There was trepidation at first, but only because of the lessons he’d gone through with his most merciless aunt. This is Lizzie teaching him now. Their lessons are something that are going to be treated quite seriously, to the depth that Ciel actually fits them into his schedule where he feels it’s most appropriate. From lesson one, they both see just how interesting this arrangement is going to be, and how much more easier it is to learn from one another than very, very intense adults (sebastian, frances).  It’s a gradual process that will take place for over a long period of time, but both will come out of it better trained in their desired aspects, and have one another to thank for it. Not only do these lessons deepen their bond, but it works with their chemistry. They learn the other’s pattern in battle, especially during fencing. Indirectly, they’re going to learn how to fight fluidly side-by-side. They become a tiny team that works together efficiently, and are better taught in communication.

Their first kiss will, or would, be their wedding kiss. It’s both of their idea, and there is a terrible guilt that storms in Ciel’s gut when he suddenly thinks on the fact that it is more than likely that the day will never come. It’s a small thing, a first kiss, but it’s so special, and it’s so human. Sebastian doesn’t understand the etiquette or romance behind it, and will never understand the depth as to why there is genuine dark cloud looming over Ciel when he reflects on this. It’s not even just a kiss, there’s more to it. Perhaps it’s this decision that has Ciel truly reflect on the power his death is going to have on Elizabeth. Their love is genuine, and it’s growing stronger, and he knows just how hard she loves him, because he loves her the same. He could think to himself that Elizabeth will find a different suitor and move on, but his mind tells him he’s a fool: Would you move on for the sake of continuing the Phantomhive lineage? Would you move on from Elizabeth? No, of course you wouldn’t. So, why would she move on from you?  The Midford who puts aside title and rank for a loved one? The hurdle is the most intense Ciel’s had to overcome in a while because of how tender the love is, and how true it is, how it’s for him and him alone, and how rough it is to tear such affection from the root and push it beneath the floorboards. Causing such a beautiful, true thing to bleed profusely because he’s chosen the path of no return, and he can’t be barred down by it. He’ll love Elizabeth intensely, he’ll never stop until his dying breath, but he can’t be held back by his emotions. He’s pursuing his goal. But damn, if this isn’t the one that made him hesitate, if but for a strong, strong moment.

[doof-doofblog]

EastEnders Iconic Episodes:- Amira & Syed's Wedding (Part 2)

Tuesday 7th July 2020

Hello again everyone! So sorry for the late post, but due to working 6 days on the run I have only found the time now to type up this post. This iconic episode is one of my absolute favourites and is part of one of my all time favourite story-lines! I am so pleased that this has been chosen as one of EastEnders' iconic episodes! I remember it like it was yesterday, everything about it so was gripping and I feel it had everyone biting their finger nails and on the edge of their seats! This iconic episode was first aired on 1st January 2010! How has it been 10 years since Chryed were on our TV screens?!

I feel like I really want to mention that for those of you who are Ballum fans, as much as I love Ballum, before Ballum we had Chryed!!! I was such a huge Chryed fan, and I still remain to this day, even though it’s been 10 years since they’ve been a part of Albert Square! Christian and Syed were such a brilliant pairing and their relationship had so many ups and downs, mainly due to Syed, being a Muslim and being married to Amira and wanting to keep his family happy, really struggled with his sexuality. It took a very long time for him to except who he was. He had fallen in love with Christian and it was tearing him apart, and this episode, for him, it was just to put on a show, to make his Mum and Dad happy. I think even though he loved Amira in his own way, he could never love her as much as he loved Christian.

I love that the episode started right in the middle of it! If I'm right in thinking the previous episode before this one, Christian and Zainab said the most epic lines to each other, I still remember them to this day:-

Zainab:- "What you people do, it makes me feel sick!"

Christian:- "Well it didn't make him feel sick! Yeah that's right Zainab! Me and your perfect son, we have done it all! And he loved it!" 

I remember watching it and thinking "Oh shit!" because one the biggest secrets was just about to explode! Then just as this huge confrontation between Zainab and Christian is kicking off, he blurts out the words clear as day "Syed is gay!" ... then that slap she walloped on him, I remember watching some kind of interview with the cast around the time, that slap was real and when she started pelting him in the chest, John Partridge told Nina Wadia to really go for it, which she obviously did! Zainab, in later episodes, would really struggle to come to terms with her son's sexuality, I think she very nearly disowned Syed. 

This episode had so much colour to it, all the wonderful outfits for the wedding, I remember being wowed by everything that was being shown on screen! Does anyone else remember the friendship between Denise and Zainab? I don't think Denise has had a friend like her for a very long time. I loved the friendship between Denise and Zainab, it would be lovely for Denise to have someone like that again, I have said many times that they should bring the Masood family back. They were one of EastEnders' brilliant families. Masood, Zainab, Syed, Shabnam and Tamwar. Has anyone else noticed that Shabnam and Syed never actually crossed paths, I feel like it would've been amazing to have seen all the Masood family together, it would've brought so much of a dynamic to the square. Seeing Syed looking so majestic on that horse I feel was a really nice touch, looking like the guy who has everything, when in actual fact he's really hiding who he truly is. When Christian calls him and tells him his Mum knows everything, the pure look of panic in his eyes is so memorable. You can't help but feel for the guy, I know I certainly did! The scene between them when they walk into a separate room has always been one of my favourite scenes. It's so sad because it starts with Syed having to deny that what Christian has told her is true, only because of the fear he is feeling of disappointing everyone around him. She believes him at first and starts to say things like Christian is sick for making up lies and saying he's pathetic for believing he's actually in love with him, all these words she's saying is ripping into Syed and it's tearing him apart hearing his Mother say these things about his lover, the vile words she says about him rips into his heart and he can't bare to hear another word ... "Don't talk about him like that!" ... and then it clicks and she realises it's true. And then he puts her straight, he finally says the words he's been needing to say for a very long time ... "I'm gay Mum and I love him!" It's sad for both parties because Syed is literally crying out to his Mother, trying to make her understand even though she is refusing to accept the fact that her son is gay. He's pleading for her acceptance and Zainab can't seem to come to terms with the news that she's being given, on the day of her son's wedding of all days! She tries to tell him to do what's right and carry on with the wedding and marry Amira, as in time, his feelings for Christian will disappear and he'll grow to love Amira. But you can't tell someone to be who they aren't and live a lie for the rest of their life, it's just giving them a sentence. 

Christian arrives at the ceremony, eager to stop the wedding and to stop Syed making the biggest mistake of his life! I remember feeling very anxious that he would make it in time. Syed is clearly looking lost and a little bit uncomfortable, looking at his Mother as if to say "Do I really need to do this?" again, looking for acceptance! And just as they were saying their vows, Christian walks in the room, looking longingly for the man he loves and praying that its not too late, but as soon as they announce that they are now man and wife, Christian's world falls apart. It must've felt absolutely heartbreaking watching the man you love marry someone else, I felt sorry as Christian had to watch Syed and Amira walk down the stairs as a married couple, while across the hall Zainab knows everything that has gone on between him and her son! I loved also how Jane reacted, she knew her brother was in love with Syed and there was nothing she could do to stop the wedding or stop her brother, it's kind of devastating for all involved. 

Of course, those who don't know about Syed and Christian, are all gushing over how stunning the bride and groom look together. Even Denise mentioned that they'd both make beautiful looking children, which of course was hard for Christian to hear. He has to remove himself from the conversation! Zainab looked at him with daggers as he approached the married couple with Peter, looking at him in fear as if he was going to say something he shouldn't. I remember watching it and desperately not wanting Syed to go through with the wedding, I had every hope that he would do the right thing for himself and go off with Christian ... but as viewers know, it was never going to be that easy! Oh the look of agony between the them both as they finally come face to face with each other after everything that has happened! They are both nearly in floods of tears, desperate to be together and yet they have now been forced apart. I think I genuinely cried watching this when it first aired, the crack in Christian's throat as Syed tries to apologise and he tells him not to be sorry! It's bloody heartbreaking to watch! Even telling him everything is okay, he accepts he had to do what was right for his family, even though it is breaking him, both of them! That final kiss between them, where Christian plans a small kiss on Syed's forehead, it was kinda like the final goodbye. The realisation that they really couldn't be an item properly any more. I remember I sobbed, and then whehn both Syed and Amira were in their wedding carriage about to start their wedded life together, Zainab reminded Syed that everything he is feeling for Christian will fade to nothing! How wrong she would've been! Syed clearly is a broken man at this point, forced to marry someone he doesn't love and to put on a show and put on a happy face to make everyone else happy. 

As those who followed the story will know that Christian and Syed could not keep away from each other, their love was too strong and in time Amira did find out about Syed being gay. That episode was also a brilliant episode! The revelation of Christian and Syed's affair was epic! I remember it so vividly ... there have been many Chryed moments that I still think about to this day! Masood finding out about Syed's sexuality, to then Amira leaving the square after finding out about their affair and leaving with the secret that she was actually pregnant with Syed's baby! Their story carried on for another 2/3 years in which they eventually did have their own wedding and Zainab finally came to accept Syed for who he was and also excepted Christian into their lives. Syed and Christian left the square as a married couple and headed for America to live their lives together. I do always hope and pray that one day they will come back and we can see how much they've grown as a couple! It made me SO happy when Chryed finally got their happy ending, let's just hope the same will happen for Ben and Callum!

Speaking of Ben and Callum, it has been revealed that the next iconic episode will be the more recent episode of Gay Pride! Another iconic moment in EastEnders history, am I right in thinking its the first Gay Pride event that Walford have hold? Either way, it'll also focus on Callum and Ben. I'm really looking forward to writing up about that episode. However, I don't know when I will get around to doing so as I am going away for week, but I will try my very best to get it up as soon as I can! I hope everyone enjoys their weekend and keep yourselves safe. Keep enjoying getting you EastEnders fix as much as I am! Thanks again folks and I'll be back very soon xXx