#ill say this again though: i don't do full bodies a lot so if you anatomical errors close your eyes please :)

[luveline]

hiii, i just wanna say i absolutely adoreee ur writing ur amazing and fabulous. I wanted to request something with hotch where reader gets hurt pretty badly in the field and is gonna have to spend a lot of time in recovery (so like not being able to work in the field for a while) and just a lot of fluff and comforting? (thx ur the bestest ever ever ever and i <3 u i’ve been reading ur stuff for years)

love u <3 fem

Your leg is broken in four different places. 

Hotch is sure you're going to cry the moment you realise what that means, but he isn't expecting for it to be a minute after you've woken up. 

“We'll get you something for the pain,” a nurse promises.

“It's not that,” you say, you sob, looking between your leg and Hotch as though you're hoping he'll tell you something different. 

You live for your job. They all have their reasons, and they all have their vices. You and Hotch are the same —you can't live without this. There's no alternative. 

But your leg is undeniably broken. 

The nurse gives him a look, hoping he'll calm you down, and he would've started the moment your eyes welled with tears if he thought he could change the outcome. Still, it breaks his heart to see you so immediately upset. He has to try something. 

“It's not forever,” he says.

“How long?” 

“Not forever.” The break, the surgery, the physical therapy. He asked for the estimates. He doesn't want to be the one to tell you, but you won't accept it from anyone else. “Six months.” 

The broken leg isn't the end of it. Your wrist is fractured, your pinky and ring finger broken, a laceration the length of his hand up your thigh. You were concussed, you're still at risk of agitating all the things you've hurt. Your face crumples and you can't even cover it with two hands like you would. It is, admittedly, the worst you've ever been at. Hotch can't stand it.  

“Would you excuse us?” he asks the nurse. “I have her.” 

“Hotch,” you say as the door closes, your voice achingly unhappy, “make them check again.” 

He takes your uninjured wrist. Holds it. “They've done everything they can do. I promise you, I was here for all of it. I argued against the pins, I knew they'd keep you here longer, I– against my better judgement, I sent people away because I knew you wouldn't want them to see you like this. This is the best outcome I could salvage.” 

“This is the best?” you ask, shaking your head at him. “This is my life.” 

You didn't see yourself. The way you'd laid there after it was over. You don't get that this is a good thing, that you weren't hurt worse. All you can see is months of desk duty, and he can't even blame you, because six months away would make him ill. 

“This is the best I could do for you,” he says, rubbing your wrist with his thumb. “I'm sorry.” 

His apology catches you off guard. You make a sound near a hiccup and turn to him completely, the fat body of a tear dripping down your cheek to your chin, where it stays. He can see the question before you've asked it and he won't make you, either, leaning down to cover you up with his arms, his chin atop your head. “I'm sorry, honey. I know how much it means to you.” 

“It's…” Your good arm works around him weakly, a hesitant touch to his back. “Not your fault. I…” 

He lets you fade, rubbing at the top of your arm, enthusing you with as much warmth as he can. “Six months recovery doesn't mean six months out of the field,” he promises. “In two months you'll be walking. It won't feel as long as you're thinking.” 

“In a boot.” 

In a full cast, poor thing. He frowns, pressing his nose into your head. “You can consult from home just as soon as you're home,” he says softly, still rubbing your arm. The touch turns to a gentle stroking, his palm numb to the ticklish sensation your naked arm brings, the sleeve of your hospital gown bunching with each line he makes. 

“I know you're unhappy, but it will heal. And you have an army of people who can't wait to see you. We… things have been complicated.” 

“How long was I out?” you ask. 

“You were awake between surgeries, but it's been two days.” 

You hug him with more insistence. “Thanks for looking after me,” you whisper. 

Oh, sweetheart, he could say. He could kiss your crown. Honestly, Hotch could take your face into his hands and suddenly he is, he's holding your face and looking down at you, eyes dark and sorry to your silvery tears. 

He strokes your cheek. “It'll be alright,” he promises. 

You dissolve into tears again in his hands. He wipes them away as they come, for as long as they will. It's the least he'd do for you. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[vampirepunks]

I’m curious what do you think about Higgs and Lou having a connection? Something about her pod gets his attention and how Sam says “he said you don’t know a goddamn thing about Lou.” Sure he doesn’t clearly say Higgs said it but knowing Kojima use of the He usually means a important character.

okay okay okay so I have Thoughts™ about this. Let's start with textual analysis and then shift towards wild speculations. It's messy, but bear with me.

So, body language, tone of voice, facial expressions. Those things say a lot. Higgs' overall demeanor is very familiar overall, not all that different from how he behaves in DS1, but there are a few subtleties that give him away.

Firstly, how he moves his guitar to his back as soon as he initiates conversation with Sam. He could have done this a few moments later to free up his hands, but he specifically chooses to move it aside at what appears to be the very start of the interaction. He's removing a barrier between them by doing so, consciously or not. His shoulders fall slack and he starts off with very open, unguarded gestures (hands at his sides, head held high) and shifts to a self-protective stance after noticing Sam's gun (arms folded in front of himself, hands folded, head tipped lower to focus more intently on Sam.)

This brings us to the moment he takes note of the BB pod. He doesn't hesitate to make a move for it, arms once again held in an open position as he stands up and goes to take it. When he does grab it, he isn't rough about it, using only as much force as necessary to dislodge it from its carrier. Now, this is where it gets interesting: he immediately turns his back to Sam. Whatever his reaction, Higgs doesn't want him to see it. He's anticipating something and he doesn't want Sam to pick up on whatever that is. He holds the pod carefully--tenderly, even--and cradles it in his hands, touching the front of it with a very delicate gesture. The tone conveys a very private, almost intimate moment. The camera lingers, the music softens. We see the little whoosh of air when he does so. My guess is, that phenomenon is related to his DOOMS; he's sensing the ghostly presence in the pod.

When he speaks, his voice is slower, gentler. He takes a moment, ponders his observations, and his eye motions reveal a deep thought process. The very subtle, quick, back-and-forth motions of his eyes as he reacts is... interesting. Psychologically, those kinds of side-to-side micro-movements typically indicate memory recall in the brain, a sign of bilateral activation for information processing and consolidation from long-term memory. Whatever he's thinking about, he's remembering something and contrasting it with the situation in front of him. He's snapped out of it, of course, by Sam asking if he killed Lou. His immediate reaction says it all: the second he hears it, his brow goes up, his mouth presses tight, and he turns his head. That conveys genuine surprise, maybe even confusion too. Not the likely reaction of someone who murdered the child in question. That stone-faced expression sticks for a moment. When he says, "You still don't know, do you?" nothing about his posture, tone, or expression indicates mockery or ill will. In fact, it's almost sympathetic. Again, using a softer voice, and he turns his full body back towards Sam. His brow lowers and his overall countenance remains tense, as though he's somehow bothered by the situation. Hell, he seems tired, as though he's exhausted of Sam not understanding. Contrast this with DS1's "You just don't get it, do you?" which is spoken in a highly aggressive manner. Higgs never lies to Sam (thank you, higgssupremacy, for reminding me of this!) and repeatedly tries to bait him, get him to listen, and observe the truth for himself, separate of his established assumptions. Higgs isn't content with telling Sam the whole story, he needs him to actually see.

The scene cuts away here, as in the next shot, he's no longer holding the BB pod and he's standing quite a bit further away from Sam. So, we'll focus on that first interaction.

Things I've taken away from this:

Higgs didn't kill Lou. If he was involved in her death, it wasn't intentional and harming Lou was not his objective.

He doesn't intend to harm Sam either, at least not at this moment.

Based on this and the lullaby in the teaser, his relationship to Lou is a caring one, potentially parental.

So, naturally, this isn't the first time he's interacted with Lou separately from Sam.

Now, I might be reaching, but I could almost swear if you listen closely when he touches the pod, you can hear a very faint sound reminiscent of ocean waves. (If somebody who works with audio wants to try and isolate the background ambiance, I'll kiss you on the mouth sloppy-style.) So, two things: 1) Did Higgs interact with Lou on the Beach? If so, when? 2) Is his ka still on the Beach? If so, how disconnected are his soul and body? Does he remotely "pilot" his physical body, or was his very being cleaved in half in a similar manner to Bridget and Amelie?

Now, I'm gonna put on my tinfoil hat and make an absolutely batshit leap of logic. I'm considering this a possibility, not a certainty, but... What if it wasn't Amelie that sent Lou back from the Beach when Sam took her out of the pod at the end of DS1? What if it was Higgs?

There are two potential explanations I can think of for how this would be possible, especially given the presence of the quipu when Amelie was the last one to have it: 1) Higgs and Amelie spoke again sometime after the ending, at which time she either gave it back to him or he took it. Not the most likely answer, as we're led to believe she died when she blew up her Beach (to "be the sacrifice"), which we see her do with seemingly no time in between, and she had the quipu in that final scene. However, time works differently on the Beach (aka, it doesn't) and she could have taken a moment to speak with him/kick him off her Beach and send him back to his own. 2) Higgs was still on Amelie's Beach when she razed it. Through yet indeterminate means, he survived this and either inherited what was left or was irreparably changed by such a world-bending event when he landed back on his own Beach.

So, that leaves Higgs alone on the Beach, whereupon Lou washes up on the shore. In this scenario, this is the moment in which Higgs sings to Lou. He repeats the same choice that started the Stranding to begin with: save a child, create a repatriate. Cosmic consequences ensue.

Reasons I think this theory works:

Saying "I'll always be with you" to Lou carries a lot of weight. Whatever happened between the two of them, it was enough that he felt he'd always be a part of her story in some way or another.

Several things happen when Lou repatriates - the timefall stops, the rainbow is no longer inverted, the sun shines without the cover of chiral clouds, the baby BTs in that final scene are suddenly white. The world has been changed. Healed, it seems, but at what cost? If Higgs' new theme is creation + redemption, it stands to reason that this could have begun with saving a life and inadvertently reversing the course of the Stranding, at least partially.

In the first dream sequence in DS1, Sam is shown connected to Lou by a black, synthetic-looking umbilical cord, before she turns into a BT and heads towards the Seam. In the trailer, Higgs has an umbilical cord that is almost exactly identical to that one.

Eternal recurrence. Always, always, eternal recurrence. Higgs repeats the decision Amelie made with Sam and irreversibly changes the course of the world and fate of humanity in the process, just as she did. A choice made out of compassion, regret, and a need for connection. He didn't know any better, how could he know better?

Higgs textually parallels Lady Macbeth. If we assume Lady Macbeth is both villain and victim, and that she (and Higgs) did not in fact die off-screen/stage as the audience is led to believe, how does that narrative continue? Lady Macbeth's guilt is heavily tied up in her involvement with the death of children (and the loss of her own child in some readings) and her inability to rid herself of her bloodguilt ("What's done cannot be undone") and this aligns with Higgs' acts of terrorism after meeting Amelie (an explicit example being Mama's baby) and his act of violence towards Lou in Edge Knot City, in stark contrast with his original reasons for becoming a terrorist ("How tender ’tis to love the babe[...] I would, while it was smiling in my face[...] dash’d the brains out, had I so sworn as you have done to").

Higgs having turned Lou into a repatriate (and possibly have been accidentally responsible for "taking" her from Sam?) mirrors the conflict between Amelie/Bridget and Cliff. Someone who was (maybe, in Higgs' case!) responsible for a child's death, severing their natural connection to death, and proceeding to claim and love that child as their own, while the father rages on and demands to be given back his BB, trapped by grief for his stolen/lost child. Could that story end differently, this time? In a narrative about disconnection and opposition, could these two people choose to unite--to connect--instead, when it comes down to it? After all, Kojima implied that Higgs and Sam need each other. They are each the other's chiral counterpart, inseparable by their very natures and fates.

If Higgs was the one who said, "You don't know a goddamn thing about Lou," that sounds awfully defensive, doesn't it? Perhaps even protective/possessive? Like a parent defending their claim on their child?

I've also adopted GameLargo's theory that Higgs was the infant of the c-section in which the first true voidout occurred, inspiring the BB experiments to begin with. In this scenario, Higgs would have been "born" from a voidout. It can be inferred that BBs can possibly repatriate, in a sense, as long as they're in the pod, because they're not truly alive or dead and belong neither to this world or the other side. The world of the living staked its claim on him when he came back from the Seam, but his unique means of starting life inherently fractured his place in the usual order of things, thus turning him into a "natural" repatriate and explaining why his DOOMS powers are so different from anyone else's. Again, life from death. Logically, Bridges might have recovered dear baby Peter from the incident site when they investigated, studied him, and adopted him out when he wasn't of use to them, concealing/erasing the records of his existence as part of the BB experiment conspiracy. This overall concept further strengthens Higgs' ties to the human sacrifices committed by Bridges, his relationship to the extinction, as well as his potential to subvert these things and embody a creative force rather than a destructive one. A sudden connection with Lou makes a lot of sense in this context.

Ghost Lou possessing the samurai bot (the working theory among the fandom, as we're all familiar with by now) laughs joyfully while fighting Higgs, as if she's playing with him. He doesn't seem particularly scared, either, at facing such a clear threat, he's just alarmed and vaguely frustrated, like "wtf is happening right now, why is this thing attacking me, etc." You ever seen a baby throw things at their dad and squeal with glee at how he reacts? Yeah, this gives off that vibe.

...so yeah that's my absolutely unhinged take from what we know so far. Guess we'll see!

#this is peak insanity but i've been thinking about this nonstop for months and the full trailer only made me Worse #sorry this is so long 😅 it's giving 'oh good i get to explain this to you. you will regret this.' lmao #i've been studying higgs under a microscope for about a year now #just observing him in his natural habitat with a pair of binoculars. and taking notes #also thank you SO much for asking!! #ds2 theories #higgs monaghan #death stranding #ds2 #logan answers #love-bigboss1fan-me #logan.txt

[pixelatedraindrops]

Hello everyone!! Today I grow a year older :3 (and I hate it lmao) FEEL FREE TO REPLY BIRTHDAY WISHES IF YOU WANT :3

So, over the time I've come back here, I've become pretty confident and proud of my once hidden passion about sick characters, sickfics and sick comfort/whump... 🌡️

And you all have been so supportive and sweet despite my weirdness so I thank you for that. You helped me feel more confident in my otherwise weird fixation <3 So, for my birthday I thought I'd try and make up a little drawing challenge for anyone who wants to give it a try... There are soo many talented artists on this site (and in this fandom)

So... It's your turn to target your faves now. You will see how fun it is and hopefully understand why I love doing it so much. 😈🌡️

(plus it's my birthday and I require some sustenance LMAO JKJK)

But yeah anyone can join in. This is just for fun though! You don't have to if you don't want to! I think its okay to ask for some food on my birthday though...right?? X'D So if you wanna do sth for my birthday...then... 👉👈 💦

CHALLENGE BELOW~

DRAW YOUR FAVE ON A SICK DAY CHALLENGE🌡️😷🥵🤧

~~~~

(Mmmmkay, I am lying to myself when I say this isn't mostly aimed at the RainCode community... X'D Can't help myself. But anyone can join regardless of the fandom!!)

So here's the challenge and the rules!! (featuring my two main lil targets ofc :3)

Regardless of who it is, put your fave through some sickness hell >:3c I'd love to see it! Make em' as miserable as you want!

destroy them 😈 jkjk XD

If you're in the RainCode community you can target anyone, but as you know, my main targets are Yuma and Makoto. If they're also your faves and who you decide to use, that will make me extra happy!

Some tips for anyone new to drawing a sick day scenario art. A few things that make it look convincing are the following:

Pajamas or Loungewear

Messy Bed Hair

Fever flushed face w sweat or at least a red nose

Tired Eye bags

Shivery body

Ice Pack or a Compress on the head

Thermometer sticking from their mouth

LOTS OF BLANKETS

Tissues or medicine surrounding them

Tea or Soup (or both)

Those are just to name some from the top of my head. If you'd like some pointers on how to make a character look ill, check out my Fever Coloring Guide. This is for digital artists but traditional artists can try it too!

You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.

The scene can be anything you want to, it can be fluffy and wholesome (with a caretaker) it can be angsty, or it can be silly. Its all up to you! Do it for the sake of fluff! Caretaking scenes are the best for any kind of relationship >w<

Either way, have fun with it!! I look forward to see what people make if they decide to give it a try! It doesn't even have to be a full on picture! Doodles and sketches are fine too! Just show me something >w<

(feel free to tag me and say happy b-day and mention my challenge, I am proud to be known for this and would love for many to participate :3) I wanna see you take a go at it :3 Show me your style! :D

~

~~~

(wow look at me misspelling the word writing on text when I did it fine with my own hands lol)

Now, I know not everyone can draw...

Well never fear! I accept writing as well! ✍️✍️✍️

(hi vivia lol sorry for giving you a cold, at least you have an excuse to read and do nothing now haha x3)

Sickfics are one of the biggest things I live for! Any little drabbles or full fics with more than one chapter are welcome! Again target who you want any fandom you want, but I'll def be super happy if you make a RainCode fic. And even happier if you target my faves as well, but again, anything will do! Just make a cute story about your fave being miserable and being tended to! Trust me, it's super fun!

You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.

Feel free to post your writing here and tag me or mention my AO3!

If you need a start to your fic, look on my blog for illness prompts! Maybe it can help give you a good start or give some inspiration! (thats why I share 'em :3)

I look forward to anything you try to write!

~

That's about all!! I hope you decide to participate! ✨

Good luck, have fun, and godspeed you future whumpers! 😈

(nah jk XD)

AGAIN THIS IS FOR FUN! NO PRRSSURE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!

#pixeldoodles #my art #art challenge #illness whump #sick whump #whump community #rain code #whumpcode #artists on tumblr #digital artist #fever whump #cold whump #whumpblr #whump ideas #whump scenario #sick art #sickfic #sick day challenge #yuma kokohead #makoto kagutsuchi #vivia twilight #shinigami rain code #IM A LITTLE NERVOUS ABOUT TRYING THIS #but idk it sounded like a fun idea... >w<; #plus it was fun to design the challenge pages #pretty much used the color replacement tool on photoshop to make it all purple LMOA #but yeah if you wanna give it a try I would love to see what you come up with!! #especially from the raincode community... XD #be sure to show me!! >w< #thanks for reading if you did!

[teal-fiend]

pred getting in trouble with observer

~1k words

Continuation of the previous part

“You’re probably getting tired aren't you. You probably feel a food coma coming on”

The pred yawned.

“Aw you’re so cute. Such a dangerous predator, but like this you’re all shy and full and vulnerable. You didn’t even try to resist me when I tied you up. A full belly makes you so… meek.”

The pred didn’t know what to say. It was mostly true. They felt a lot less energetic or irritable after they had eaten. They’d put up with all kinds of antics. The observer loved to take advantage of that.

Their belly gurgled almost sickly. The pred could feel a cramp emerging. They were uncomfortable in this position.

“Here I'll help you relax more,” the observer said.

They approached the pred and put their hands on the belly, rubbing it up and down firmly from the underbelly all the way up almost to their chest. With a practised and precise method, they knew exactly how to stimulate the pred’s digestive system. Instigating digestion; it was a craft that they had perfected.

The belly gurgled pleasantly, grateful for the even soothing pressure. The prey inside was desperate and failing as the stomach became more active, churning them with more determination.

The pred leaned against their observer - leaning into the massage and supporting their weight on them. They let themselves drift off. 

“Hey wake up,” the observer said, pushing the pred upright. The pred blinked and squinted.

“Aw, you fell asleep for a second.”

The pred grunted sleepily. 

“Your belly’s putting all its effort into digesting them now, you know.” the observer stated. “And they were always so nice to you… but you couldn’t resist, could you?” They lectured the pred, “What are you going to do when the next person moves in? Will you eat them too?”

When the pred didn’t reply the observer continued

“Am I not feeding you enough? Should I get you more prey?”

“No, no,” the pred mumbled, “it’s enough.”

They leaned against the wall and shut their eyes.

“Don't fall asleep again!” The observer tapped the pred, “you just can’t stay awake, can you?”

The pred sighed.

“Careful you’re going to hurt your wrists if you keep leaning like that. They’re already looking a little red”

The pred hadn’t really noticed their wrists at all.

“Your body really wants you to sleep. But you have discipline don’t you? Well, I guess you don’t. After all, you just couldn’t stop yourself from eating our neighbour even when  you knew you weren’t allowed. You’re just a slave to your baser instincts.” they mused.

“And now after your ill gotten meal, you just can’t help but fall asleep, you need your little nap to help you digest. And it’s only 2 in the afternoon…” they pointed out.

The observer held the pred’s chin gently in their hand, “You really have to get yourself together, doll. You’re a mess.”

The observer lowered their voice and leaned in, “I knew you’d do this. And I think you knew that I knew, and you wanted me to find you like this. You wanted me to tell you off for being disobedient.”

“And maybe it was just a subconscious thing. But you wanted this didn't you?”

The pred muttered an “mhm”

“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve paid you attention like this. So you were feeling neglected and you acted out?  You’re so immature. We can communicate like adults.” The observer was gentler with their massage, brushing the stomach gently with their nails, “But that's not as fun for you I suppose.”

“Hmm,” the observer paused their ministrations, “I think your belly’s had its way with the prey. I don’t feel as much movement.”

They patted the gut with a point of finality, the pred belched, satisfied. 

“I think you might be enjoying this too much,” the observer noticed.

 Because of the observer's massage, even though they were standing in an unconventional position, their meal had settled nicely. Their stomach felt pleasantly full and sated, and digestion felt easy.

“You just wanted a nice belly rub, didn’t you? You don’t care if you’re tied up.”

The pred hummed absentmindedly in reply, half asleep and not paying particular attention to what the observer was actually saying to them.

“You're so docile.”

The observer opened the pred’s mouth and looked at their teeth, counting them, while the pred didn’t object at all.

“Is it disrespectful for a prey like me to mess around with a dignified predator? You guys are meant to be more noble and mysterious.

But you’re no mystery. I know exactly how you operate.”

“You’re much more simple than your reputation would lead one to believe. To most prey, predator’s are an incomprehensible danger, a force of nature, like a tsunami. You are unfathomable, and our inevitable doom.”

“That’s not really the case though, you’re just hungry, and you eat when you’re hungry, and it’s not that special

You’ve given me so much insight into your species. And you’ve fallen asleep again.”

The observer gently shook them awake.

“Huh, what?” the pred mumbled, “what did you say?”

“I was just saying, I think you’ve learnt your lesson for now.”

“Oh have I,” the pred yawned.

“I don’t know, that’s up to you. Maybe I’ll figure something out for you tomorrow. But for now I’ll let you rest.”

“Okay,”

The observer released the tired pred and handed them the glass of water which they downed wolfishly. Then the observer led them to their bed.

The observer took their book from the bedside table before settling next to the pred, resting their head on the pred’s plump middle, like a pillow.

The pred, grateful that they could finally start their afternoon nap time, fell asleep immediately.

The observer stared at a page on their book, but really was thinking of things they could make the pred do tomorrow. It wasn’t often that they had an excuse to mess with them, so they had to make it count.

#soft vore #digestion #here is the story. yipee #vore digestion #implied digestion #v/ore #vore fic #vore writing #fatal vore #tw vore #v.ore #pred pov #observer pov

[roxygen22]

Still Here (Chapter 10)

Summary: Picks up after your steamy confession that you love Timothée in return.

C/W: NSFW-ish beginning (minors DNI); parent with terminal illness

Catch up on previous chapters here.

Timothée trembled on top of you, barely able to support his weight on his elbows as he came down from the high of his climax.

"You do?" he asked, his tone revealing an air of disbelief.

"Yes. I've known with certainty since the day we went to the lake. I thought I had pushed those feelings aside a long time ago, but obviously the embers never died. I've just been too scared to say it, like that would somehow save me from heartbreak if you change your mind."

He rolled to your side and propped his head up on his hand so he could still look at you. "I haven't changed my mind in 12 years, [Y/N]." He traced your jawline lightly with his fingertips. "Believe me, I have tried many times over the years to convince myself otherwise. You're stuck with me."

"Promise?"

Timothée nodded, nuzzling his nose against your ear. "Can I hear you say it again?" he whispered.

"I love you, Timmy."

His lips crashed down onto yours in response. His free hand landed on your hip, his fingers making indentations in your flesh as he pulled your body to press up against his. This ebb and flow of passion continued throughout the night. When the two of you were finally spent, Timothée clung to you in his sleep as if he were afraid you would disappear.

You stirred when a ray of light from the window hit your face. Waking up next to Timothée after a night of lovemaking was something you had yet to experience. As teens, you were never afforded the opportunity. You took advantage of the chance to take in the features of his peaceful face. In many ways he looked just like he did all of those years ago. The same recognizable jawline, sharp nose, and mop of dark curly hair. But there were subtle differences that you found yourself falling in love with. Laugh lines. Crow's feet. A tiny scar next to his nose. You wondered what story was behind that and made a mental note to ask him later. You found yourself hoping that you would get to stare at this face for the rest of your life.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Timothée began to stir. His eyelids fluttered open, and he smiled as his eyes focused on you.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, his voice still thick and gravelly with sleep. He pulled you in for a quick kiss.

"Morning." You smiled and sighed.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You gently shrugged. "I wish I could give you back all the years I wasted."

"Everything happens for a reason, love. The past is the past. What we can do, though, is have fun making up for lost time." He gave you a suggestive look and squeezed your thigh. He acted like he was about to lean in for another kiss, but stopped just short of your lips. "But first, breakfast."

You took in the view as Timothée threw off the blanket and walked naked to the kitchen. You wouldn't mind seeing that for the rest of your life, either.

<><><><><>

After enjoying breakfast in bed, the two of you got dressed and Timothée drove you back to your parents' house. Needing to get back to check on his dad and work in his shop, he dropped you off in front of the house.

Before you got out, he asked, "Hey, why don't you and Madison come over for dinner this evening? Dad would love to see you again and meet Madison. And it would mean a lot to me."

You paused to think through your calendar. "Sure, we can do that. Text me later about the time and what I can bring." You kissed him on the cheek and hopped out of the truck.

Madison was sitting on the couch in the living room when you walked inside. She crossed her arms and glared at you. "Where have you been?"

You found the juxtaposed roles amusing, but tried your best not to show it. "We watched a movie at Timothée's house and fell asleep." Not exactly a lie, but she didn't need the full truth, either. Madison narrowed her eyes at you, but she was satisfied enough with the answer to return to her book.

Your mother watched the entire exchange and covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. You walked past her to the kitchen with a knowing smile on your face. She followed you and asked, "Sooooo, how was your night?"

"Well, like I said, we watched a movie at his place and fell asleep." You laughed nervously and blushed.

"Mm-hmm. I wasn't born yesterday, child."

"It was....good. Really, really good."

She smiled. "Good. You needed to get some."

You scoffed. "Mom!"

"What?! Like I said, I wasn't born yesterday. I called it as soon as he said y'all were going to his place instead of out for dinner." She grinned.

"ANYWAY. Timothée invited Madison and me over to his dad's house for dinner tonight," you interjected, trying to change the subject.

"Must be getting pretty serious if he's bringing y'all home to meet the family," she quipped.

"It's not like I've never met Mr. Chalamet before," you replied insolently.

"Perhaps. But Madison hasn't."

You opened your mouth to rebut, but quickly shut your jaw with a click. She was right, though the realization did not come as a shock. "You're stuck with me" resonated in your head. Timothée was all in at this point. You ducked your head and smiled.

<><><><><>

You returned to the Chalamet's property later that evening with a bottle of wine in hand and daughter close behind you. Timothée met you at your car to give you a chaste kiss and Madison a hug. "Come on inside," he said as he guided the two of you up to the porch.

Mr. Chalamet was waiting at the front door with open arms. "[Y/N]! So good to see you again," he exclaimed as he closed the hug. "And who is this?" He looked at the girl who had half-hidden herself behind Timothée's leg.

You stepped back from the hug and waved her over. "Madison, come meet Mr. Chalamet." You heard him gasp slightly as your daughter revealed herself.

"She looks just like you did as a girl."

"That's exactly what I said the first time I saw her, too," Timothée agreed, setting a hand on Madison's shoulder in reassurance.

She looked up at you in disbelief. "Is there anyone in this town who didn't know you as a kid?" All of you laughed.

Unable to stand for long, Mr. Chalamet returned to his armchair in the living room. You accompanied him and caught him up on the highlights of your time in California while Timothée stepped away to put the finishing touches on dinner. Once Madison helped him set the table and bring out the food, the four of you took your places. Soon you were all reminiscing and laughing at the stories Mr. Chalamet told of Timothée as a boy. You could tell, though, that he was getting tired by the time dessert was served. You and Madison cleared the table while Timothée helped him back to his armchair, then joined them in the living room.

You knelt down in front of him and held his hand. "This has been lovely, Mr. Chalamet. Thank you for having us over."

"Oh, sweet girl. I'm so glad you are back." He nodded past you at Madison, who now stood by Timothée. "You've done a good job with her, my dear. Timothée talks about her all the time."

"Oh, she makes it easy." He gave you a soft smile.

"Will we be seeing more of the two of you, [Y/N]?

You looked at Timothée and smiled before looking back at his dad. "I hope so." You sandwiched Mr. Chalamet's hand between yours and squeezed before standing to leave. Madison shyly waved at him and followed you out the door. Timothée walked the two of you to your car and opened the door for Madison. Before he opened yours, he leaned down to give you a kiss.

"Thank you for this," he said quietly.

"He...seemed to be in good spirits."

"Today was a good day. Those seem to be happening less frequently. He rallied because he wanted to see you two."

You reached up and cupped his cheek. "I see now why you said this would mean a lot to you. I didn't realize he was so..." You were at a loss for words.

"Sick? Yeah. I know it may have seemed a bit premature for this, but I wanted to have, uh..." He looked up at the sky and cleared his throat to will the tears away.

"A family dinner?" you guessed.

Timothée looked down at you and nodded. "I know this is fast and you wanted to take things slowly, but there may not be time and I didn't want to lose the chance to be surrounded by the most important people in my life, those still with us at least. I can't explain just how badly I wanted my dad to meet Madison, especially. I know she's not mine, but I...I love her so much already."

"I know." You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. He rested his head in the crook of your neck and cried.

<><><><><>

Chapter 11 (coming soon)

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovyqueer

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #Timothée x reader #timothee x reader #Timothée chalamet x you #Timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee fanfic #Timothée fanfic #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet fanfic #divorce #single parent #single mom #single parenting #angst #whump #eventual happy ending #high school sweethearts #reader insert #mom reader #female reader

[cevansbrat0007]

Real Talk.

Warning: the following post contains mature themes and references to drug overdose, death, and Fentanyl.

For the record, what I'm about to say in regards to NARCAN has nothing to do with me standing on a soapbox. Instead, I'm asking that people do what they can to educate themselves on the importance and necessity of this life-saving drug.

And I'll start by telling you a story:

This morning, I went to check on my roommate who lives on the floor above me. She had asked me to make sure she didn't sleep through her many alarms like she always did so that she could make it to work on time. She's a server at a steakhouse chain - and a damn good one at that.

She's also my friend. A friend who, just like myself, is nearly nine months sober.

Except this morning when I knocked on her door, she didn't answer. And when I opened the door and peeked in her room she appeared to be fast asleep. But she was half naked, and the fan she had borrowed from me the night before was set to full blast. Even though it was cold outside.

Her room was like an ice box. And she was so pale. And no matter how loud I said her name, she wouldn't open her eyes and look at me.

She wouldn't wake up.

So I poked her in the shoulder. I shook her. I yelled her name. And then I realized her lips were blue. Her body was stiff. And she was cold to the touch.

The only sound she could make was that of a low, almost eerie groan. If I'm being honest, it's a sound that I'd never quite heard before. And I don't want to ever hear it again.

What I would come to realize seconds later was that my friend had overdosed on Fentanyl. Possibly a few hours earlier. Which meant she was fucking dying.

I panicked, of course. Because I'm an alcoholic. I've never touched Heroin, let alone witnessed an overdose. I know what to do if someone was suffering from, say, alcohol poisoning...but this...this was brand new territory.

Because with Fentanyl, seconds fucking matter.

I sprinted to wake up another girl. Seconds later we were back with our friend where our worst fear was absolutely confirmed.

Fentanyl Overdose.

I'd never fucking seen this. Never. But we didn't have time to fall apart because from there we dashed down the stairs. She went straight for the NARCAN and I went for my phone to call 911.

Less than a minute later, she and I were back in our friend's room to administer the NARCAN, only for us to realize that she wasn't breathing anymore.

By this point, another one of my housemates had joined us as well. And the others were soon to follow. While I was on the phone relaying instructions from the dispatcher on how to revive our friend, the others were moving her limp body to the floor.

They were doing chest compressions. Two were racing to find more NARCAN stashed in someone's glove compartment. And then another was directing EMS on where to go in the house.

It was a team effort to make sure this girl fucking lived. We could yell at her for this tomorrow. But for now, all we cared about was her living today.

I had never been through this. But as much as I hate to say this, today I was grateful that there were others in the house who had been through this before. For those who knew how to administer NARCAN.

In total, we administered something like 28 milligrams to bring her back. Which is a lot. A cop may have mumbled out something about us not waiting long enough in between doses to see if we'd given her enough before administering another. But he can go kick rocks.

Because we did the best we could all while running on straight adrenaline and doing everything we could to save someone while not falling apart in the process.

In the end, what matters is that she woke up. She was in pain. And very ill. And has since been admitted to the hospital.

Now the rest of us are left to deal with the tears and the adrenaline comedown, along with the guilt of all the signs we may or may not have missed. And that is really fucking shitty. I am so mad at my friend.

But at the same time, I love her so damn much. And I'm grateful that I will hopefully have the opportunity to share all these feelings with her one day soon.

She was fucking lucky. And so were we.

I'm grateful we found her in-time - because the paramedics made it very clear that we cut it real close. I'm grateful I live with people who found it in them to unite to save someone's life.

I'm grateful for NARCAN.

And beyond that, I'm grateful that I now know what to do with it. I never completely comprehended the weight of its importance until today. I didn't quite understand why my friend kept a stash of it in her glove compartment when she had no intentions of getting high anymore.

But today that stash saved her life. I'm begging you, if you have a loved one who suffers from this disease, please consider keeping this life-saving drug within reach.

Read up about it. Talk about it. Even if it makes you uncomfortable. Even if you can't fathom why someone would think of or want to use. Even if the idea of having to use it scares you.

I'm sure if it ever came down to it, you would rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Wouldn't you?

I've come to learn that many people who relapse, even after months of serious sobriety, don't plan it. It just happens. Impulsivity is a deadly part of this disease. One lapse in judgement - just one - could very well mean death.

It's really that serious.

Because with this disease, you're always guaranteed another relapse. But you're never guaranteed another recovery.

Thanks to NARCAN, my friend will have another shot.

That's all I've got for now, guys and gals. I'd be lying if I said we weren't all emotional wrecks over here. But it's all gonna be okay.

And finally, but most importantly: if you're struggling with anything, be it addiction or mental health, there is no shame in asking for help. Not now. Not ever. We're all human. We all need love.

We all deserve support to overcome our darkest of days.

Love, Britt

#britt's notes #addiction #sobriety #drug overdose #sobriety journey #narcan #substance abuse #today was a hard day #i love you all

[zephiraz]

Okay so in my head there lives Magus and an alternate timeline Janus. They say they don't like or trust each other, but they get along better than anyone.

(This got a lot longer than I thought it would whoops.)

There once was a king of Zeal, surely. Janus and Schala didn't just come out of nowhere. And the queen wasn't always...like that. No one really likes to talk about how the king died, though. Illness, the seneschal said, though he was newly appointed and had not the full details himself. Illness, the queen cried, deep in mourning, as she tore down the king's portraits and replaced his aides and servants and research partners. Only the Gurus remained, too vaunted to truly be touchable. It was such a sudden thing, the sickness that took him. None who had seen him believed him ill or frail, and he'd been in such fine spirits just the day before, though any murmurs of such are quickly silenced lest the queen dowager hears. You don't wish to upset the lady in mourning, do you? You don't want to disappear.

But the king had been in perfectly fine health, in fact. The only thing that wore on him was his wife's insistence on pursuing a field of research that he viewed as dangerous. The couple had argued about it, the queen proclaiming this new energy source she'd discovered would propel Zeal to ever greater heights, and the king decrying it as madness. He forbade her research entirely after one day walking into her lab to see her research assistant—one Norstein Bekkler—shatter before his very eyes, Bekkler's essence drawn into a black hole in space, ripped from his body with such force that only pulped meat remained.

For weeks the queen pleaded for another chance, defending her research and describing all the different safety measures she could—would—implement, if only she were given the chance. She was so close to a breakthrough! Eventually, the king relented. He did love his wife, and he wanted to believe in her, after all. He allowed her one more chance, on the grounds that he supervise her next experiment. Should at any moment it appear too dangerous to continue, it was to be shut down immediately.

Little Janus with his brand-new kitten in tow saw his parents wandering the halls together, oblivious to his presence underfoot. He followed them, only noticed when he tripped on robes too big for him. His father turned, a face lined with stress and worry brightening like the sun emerging from behind storm clouds at the sight of his son. The king scooped Janus up in a big hug, then set him back down on his foot and urged him away to find his sister. Mother and father have important research to do; it is not safe for little kittens!

Janus watched heavy marble doors shut behind his parents. He never saw his father again. None would ever find out what happened behind those doors.

...But time is as fickle as a kitten struggling in a young boy's arms, spurred by the tantalizing mystery of a slowly closing door. Alfador leaped from Janus's grasp and bolted after the king, the young prince hot on his heels.

Thousands of years later, a motley group of time travelers wanders Guardia's forests at the behest of the Guru of Time. From his perch at the end of all things, Gaspar had seen a disturbance in the vast darkness of time. A loose thread, forgotten in the ebb and flow, causing the weft of reality to fray. It was with great trepidation that Crono led his friends through the dense wood. A bright flash of blue light had signaled the opening of a gate, but finding the thing was proving tricky. Voices echoed amidst the trees, jeering laughter and barely-audible murmuring interspersed with the crack of magic and infrequent shouts of pain.

After long minutes of searching the party found the source of all this noise; Dalton, half obscured by hanging branches, cackling as he channeled magic, draining energy from a groaning man just out of view. It was Magus who acted first. He leaped from the forest's grasp and bolted straight for Dalton, slicing the man's head clean off with a flourish of his scythe. ...And Dalton, a different Dalton, fled into a hastily-summoned black gate with a second prisoner in tow just before the rest of the party could bring their weapons to bear.

With little else to go on but a headless, lifeless body, Crono turned to help up the Daltons' victim, but was startled to find him a spitting image of Magus. With the party too shocked to act, the man stood shakily on his own and dusted his fine robes off. He thanked the party for their timely intervention, and introduced himself as King Zeal.

Magus refuses to believe it, at first. This can't be the king of Zeal. He'd died years ago! The stranger's jaw sets at that, fists clenching at his sides. He states again that he is the king of Zeal; Janus, son of Alfard, who he watched perish before his very eyes.

Janus had pushed the door ajar just in time to see his father disappear into a black hole in space, his mother's face twisted in vicious triumph. Janus ran crying for guards, for Schala, for anyone. The queen in her panic chased him through the halls, hoping to silence the prince. She was captured, raving mad, and sentenced for the murder of the king and attempted murder of her own son. Her lab was shut down, her research burned. It fell to Schala then to lead Zeal under the guidance of the Gurus, who she later joined in scholarship when Janus was old and learned enough to take the burden of the throne from her. There he ruled with fairness in relative peace for several years, until he was recently approached by a man claiming to be a prophet. This prophet spoke of a people divided, of those without magic cast to the frozen earth to toil away building technological marvels they would never benefit from, of a ruined Zeal. Janus ushered the prophet behind closed doors so as not to alarm his subjects. He believed the prophet a madman, of course, but it was his duty as king to thoroughly investigate any potential threat to his people. It was only when the heavy marble doors fell shut behind him that he realized he'd walked into his mother's old lab, and only then that he recognized the prophet as a sycophant who used to aid her in her research. And there beside a yawning black gate stood a man identical save for the ragged patch covering one eye. The false prophet pushed Janus into the gate, and his world went dark. It felt like eternity in a single moment, terror tearing through his mind as suddenly he was a child again watching his father succumb to this same fate, and then he was himself, sprawled upon an unfamiliar forest floor. And then he was nothing, his whole being suffused with blinding pain as the two Daltons drained him of his magic. He was lucky these kind strangers intervened when they did, lest he be drained entirely.

Magus mulls this over, staring at the blood-soaked ground beneath him. Still he struggles to find this true, but... His eyes alight on Dalton's head, face-down at his feet. He gently kicks it over. Two glassy eyes stare up at him.

With no sign of the gate that brought him here remaining, the party takes King Janus with them. He is shocked to hear their tale, appropriately dismayed and awed at each turn of fate, but it is hearing what very nearly was his own fate that shocks him into silence. At length, the king resolves to accompany the party in their quest. He might not be much of a warrior, but he is the King of Magic; a peerless enchanter, his wards and barriers know no equal, and the party could surely benefit from a highly learned support mage. He takes the name Magil, after an old tutor of his. He knows that this is not his own timeline, and he defers the name to the self who truly belongs here. Magus, for his part, is hesitant to take the name himself. He is only just starting to get used to hearing it again, after all. Regardless, they both still answer to Janus, and they both share the same goal, unspoken yet firmly understood between the two of them. If one King Zeal found his way here through a black gate, then what of the first? Could their father yet live?

(This was originally a put-me-to-sleep story in my head that I revisited like five times over a few months so the details got muddled between iterations, and some got left out. In one iteration the Other Zeal timeline was literally falling apart as time unraveled from Primary Dalton fucking stuff up in pursuit of power. Also Schala was there. Anyway I just think Magus and Other Janus would hate each other and then be friends. Magus would be so so so jealous of Other Janus getting to grow up in Zeal without a lot of the bullshit. Not much for Other Janus to be jealous of except in the first iteration of this plot it was a love triangle turned half-merged consciousnesses due to time fuckery to we're sharing him now between Crono and the Januses, but that plot is All For Me. Okay goodnight)

#Chrono Trigger #Chrono Trigger Magus

[ghostismybbygorl]

Okay heres how id vibe with cod characters

First off i think my call sign would be 'mouse'

Bc im small i can scurry around places pretty quick and i can escape out of a situation fast as well that or cause i sneeze like a mouse

Id be a sniper and demolition expert ngl

Price

Legit i would call him dad 24/7 not like in a daddy kind of way but like legit a father figure

he'd just roll his eyes and accept the fact that he has another kid he has to take care of

100% would smoke a cigar with him though id smoke those tiny cigarillos (my brother smokes cigars and ill smoke a little with him)

Gift giving is my love language so whenever id visit a new country id buy him a cigar from there

I have a hat like his and i WILL wear it around and mimick him

Id do the grunts and everything

I feel like id be on more missions with him than anyone else

Definitely would hang out in his office to keep him company and annoy the shit out if him

Soap

Dont let anyone near us

Like

AT ALL

wed be doing diabolical shit especially since im an arsonist and free will plus military grade explosives plus mouse and soap. have the fire department on speed dial

We'd be the reason price is greying faster

100% stealing his shirts and hoodies they'd be so big on me

Im gonna be up front with this one

We'd be fucking. I'm down bad for this man

We'd annoy the absolute piss out of ghost. He can handle one soap but TWO hes gonna need the backpack leashes for us

Quoting vines and tiktoks ON THE DAILY

Jam seshes in the car would be 100% perfect

We'd have a snap streak and its only stupid photos we take

Im recording everything he does i know damn well hes always in a silly goofy mood

Definitely in the blunt rotation

He's definitely the type to find my snack rations and eat them in front of me

Lots of hugs and kisses for this man

Except when he eats my snacks

Wed play fight all the time. When i'm really close with someone ill start "beating them up" (just be faking to fight you)

Ghost

Oh this poor poor man

Have sympathy on him because he's going to try to avoid every ounce of my being

And i wont stop that

Im giving him hugs left and right this man needs some love

I feel like once i start cracking dark humor jokes he'd open up to me

100% would be making the most absurd worst dad jokes and laughing about it

We'd text on the daily mostly just me sending him memes and him sending a 👍🏻or a 👎🏻

Im stealing his hoodies and his masks

Id probably piss him the fuck off to be honest

Id give him so many gifts to make him happy i know he crinkle's his eyes when he smiles

In the blunt rotation too but i think he'd just join for the company and not smoke that much

Id be over in his room if im overstimulated and i don't want to deal with people

Id have him proof read my fanfiction and he'd be my personal dictionary cause i cant spell for shit

Gaz

Did i say big brother vibes cause HE WILL BE MY BIG BROTHER

Id steal his hat so many times but like not in the ride a cowboy kind of way

Id buy him the most ridiculous hats and he will 100% wear them

I feel like he was a spondgebob kid so i know damn well we'll be quoting some of the lines

Part of the blunt rotation as well

When I'm upset he's the one id rant to

Definitely would vibe in a room without talking to him in general

He's most definitely the one to keep me from being unhinged

Totally would listen to murder podcasts together

So at my previous job we had to wear full body harnesses and we played this game called the carabiniere game where you take a carabiniere and hook it on to someone without them knowing and you see who can put the most on them

Soap, gaz, and i would be playing it 100% all the time with each other.

Id also grab them by the harness and pull them around or clip myself to them

Let me get a video from my old job and just put em here and id just explain

Okay back to writing

Laswell

Once again id call her mom and she's just gonna have to deal with it

Id definitely spend time with her outside of work (especially since she lives in maryland my family lives up there) which gives me more of a reason to visit her lol

Shopping sprees i feel like she's a frequent shopper at tj maxx and target

I also feel like she gives the best life advice so id come calling if im in a predicament

Okay so i am partially fluent in spanish, my god mother and best friend are Mexican so I've been around Mexican culture the majority of my life

Alejandro

definitely calls me niña or cariño

I feel like he'd roast my spanish and doesn't correct me if i say something wrong

100% my drinking buddy

I feel like he'd be very protective over me

Id be his date (platonically) and hed be mine to all the family gatherings

Fucking Mexican families are so much fun too. party my tia throws one and im there two shots of tequila in my hand listening and damcing to music

We'd text on the daily i feel like he'd frequently visit me and my family in the south as well he'd be the life of the party at my tia's parties

Rudy

He's the one that corrects my spanish and WILL only speak spanish to me until I understand whst he's saying

Insert him pointing to a random object and says it in spanish

I feel like we wouldnt bond much but we would you know?

I also feel like he gives great life advice

Graves

Id kick him in the balls

He's the type of guy i avoid or ruin his reputation

Absolutely despise him

Completely roast that motherfucker

Drop kick him

He pisses me off so much

Gives off leo and cancer energy

OHOHOHOHHH AND AT THE BETRAYAL SCENE DONT GET ME STARTED

Id 100% try to fight him even before Alejandro would

Tbh id probably get killed by one of his shadows bc of it

König

Sweet babe i would help him through an axiety attack

PIGGY BACK RIDES FOR SURE

id hug him every-time i see him

Definitely would say uppies and have him put me on his shoulders

He definitely wont see me at all ( im 5'4) so he would definitely have to crouch down to see me

His nickname would be bear cause of how big he is

I feel like when he'’s comfortable around you he’s very out going

I have no clue how to speak german but i will act like i do

He's in the blunt rotation as well

Thats all i got for now 😊

#call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley #soap mactavish #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #cod #ghost #john soap mactavish #captain john price #john price #captain price #kyle gaz #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kate laswell #laswell #alejandro mw2 #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #rudy parra #phillip graves #tf 141 #könig #call of duty mwii #call of dooty #cod x reader #cod ghost #johnny soap mactavish

[jojoturnip]

It's the first kidney stone I've had since living with you.

I realized after moving out that they had much less to do with my diet and much more to do with stress. Living with you hurt me in a lot of ways, especially at the end.

And, I'm not saying it's all you, obviously. I made a habit of piling my plate so full that I wouldn't have too see past the mountain of things to do to the work of healing and rebuilding myself. Our third roommate, the fleas, transitioning from college to working full time. That was all stress.

But, in my last few months of living with you, I was getting stones regularly. Something that had never happened before. And I'd had those busy-body habits most of my life.

It's heartbreaking, you know? Because I really did love you. I really did want to be your friend forever. I really would've lived with you again.

But, I was hurting myself.

I don't think you ever noticed it. I want to think you didn't know you were hurting me.

The first time I really cried after leaving was when I found out that you weren't narcoleptic. I'd always imagined that you couldn't get out of bed and do it yourself. That it had to be me by default, not by your choice.

I'm not so certain anymore.

That's not to say I don't believe you can't be chronically ill and struggle to get out of bed in another way. Of course you can.

But I was passing fucking kidney stones the whole goddamn time, and I still carried myself and then part of you, too.

Today was the first day I've taken off sick at my job. I really haven't felt sick much at all--a rarity for me in through the winter months. The latest stone came from stress, I invited my grandparents over after not speaking to them for three years.

I was so scared and nervous and just out of my mind. I did everything I could to distract myself, but I felt terrible. I knew I had to do it, before August rolled around. Sooner rather than later. I'd promised.

It makes sense that they're coming stressed me out enough to give me a stone. It makes sense that I've had more nightmares keeping me up recently.

What doesn't make sense is that they handled everything better than you did.

I spoke the truth to them. Not about everything, but enough. They don't need to know my whole story. We just have to find neutral ground. For my sister. For her daughter.

It hurt, and I cried so much the whole time, and they didn't even remember some of the hardest parts of my life. They tried to argue they had done more to face my father when we were kids, to get him to be a better dad, but they claimed he was out of their control. Claimed that he still is.

We're not on friendly terms. I doubt we ever will be, but they took it all so much better than you. They recognized I had my own life, and that I wouldn't be taking abuse or staying silent about it any longer. I'd felt my ted-talk communication skills kick in, and I'd expressed understanding for their side, too. It would be hard to accept your son is a shit father.

They can't deny it much anymore. He's scheduled a cruise for when his granddaughter is due.

Things haven't been easy lately. Hell, I've met so many of my darkest fears head on since the end of last year. My world has flipped inside-out, upside-down. But, I've been pushing through it okay. I'm so much stronger than I thought I was.

It breaks my heart again after meeting with my grandparents to know there was an option for a different reality. You could've been there, beside me, carrying our own loads but lifting each other all the while. We could've grown closer. We could still be friends.

I miss you a lot. I'm not afraid to say that. I can hold the contradictive love and fear in my hands. Do you still have nuance, even though she detests it?

Sometimes, I wish you were still around. I have so many stories to tell you, so many questions to ask. Sometimes I wish my therapist would tell me that I had done something wrong so I could grovel at your knees and beg for forgiveness, beg to start again.

I'll always miss you. But, you weren't healthy for me. And I know you aren't safe for my loved ones now.

I have to live with missing you. And the fears you've left behind.

At least there are fewer kidney stones.

#no one would believe the amount of times I have peed today #tmi but I'm tired of the kidney stone #and I have only had this one moving for a couple of days #how on earth did I manage last summer? #my writing #add this one to the lists of reasons to not go back to bad people #My body literally rejects it! #but my heart is like oh but i miss the good times #is my whole life a series of honeymoons? completely possible #whoop gotta pee again ig #folks who are reading this: why?

[ochazos]

@epitomees sent: 💋 (For one robot maiden please~)

The first 5 Asks to send 💋 get a kiss (2/5)

It was the first time he had been able to come here since the promised day. At that time, he had thought his last moments would be here. Staring up at the blue sky and surrounded by the people he loved. After that, Makoto shut his eyes and never expected to see the sky again.

But it was above him now as he sat down in the very spot he had sworn would be the place he would die. His body was so weak now and climbing the stairs had exhausted him. Though, it wasn't nearly as bad as that day. He had been so tired then.

He struggled to catch his breath. While Makoto was still on leave from school, it was nice to see it again. This place held so many memories for him and he actually wanted to start going back. Even if his time was limited and he didn't know when it would be over. He had even been getting notes from Fuuka and Yukari so he could keep up with lessons.

Despite sitting down, the world seemed to spin for a moment and he started to fall. Only to be caught by his companion. Aigis' worried gaze was more beautiful than the sky, and Makoto smiles softly despite how ill he felt.

"Do you remember...?" He asks quietly, adjusting himself more steadily on the seat to prevent him from having that happen again. He gently takes her hand in his and tugs on it to get her to sit beside him. "This is where you first... Told me how you felt about me."

Feelings that had been blossoming inside of him for a long time. There was no rhyme or reason. He couldn't think of a reason why he started to love Aigis the way he had... But he did. And every extra moment they got to spend together was a blessing to him.

His smile fades. There is... so much guilt. He knew this must take a lot out of her. The uncertainty. The fact that she had to take care of him so much. It was cruel for him to stick around, huh? Sometimes he wondered that... If it would be a relief when he finally died.

"I worry sometimes that I'm making things harder for everyone... You especially." He confesses. "I love you, Aigis. Every extra moment we get to share is... worth every bit of pain to me." And his existence was full of pain and misery. But it was worth it.

His fingers trace her cheek softly, he looks into her eyes. For a moment, his own grey eyes are painted with melancholy. Love, sure, but also sorrow and guilt.

Slowly, he moves closer. Lips touching hers as if she is so delicate. As if he is afraid of breaking her. He doesn't push or kiss her deeply. It is simple and uncertain. He doesn't know if he is being kind or cruel to her with his love.

And when his lips part from hers, they linger close by. His heart feels heavy. "I don't want... to hold you back." He says quietly. "You're special to me, Aigis." His fingers tangle in the fabric of her jacket as he grips it with a trembling hand.

"Are you... happy with things like this....?" He loves her so much. But he didn't know how to love or be loved. He didn't know if he was doing it right.

#˗ˏˋ ic. ⟶ ❛ done and dusted ❜ #˗ˏˋ answers. ⟶ ❛ i’ll wait to see you again ❜ #epitomees #꒰ ♡ ꒱ epitomees/aigis. ╱ i will love you with every single thing i have ◞ #∗ —— ❝ post. 》 the day after

[stranger-marauders]

unbreakable

ten: the lights

chapter summary: Will Byers is confirmed dead, and Kate meets Jonathan's mother. Kate and her father finally begin to talk to one another.

chapter warnings: language, sibling loss, parental issues, grief

word count: 3.1k

series masterlist | masterlist

KATE HAD BEEN asked to go inside with her father once they'd gotten to the Byers' home.

Even though she had only known Jonathan for a couple of hours at best, or known him well at least, she hadn't minded coming for him. She knew how awful it was to find out about something like this, your younger sibling dying. She couldn't imagine how it was for Jonathan after knowing what her experience was like. Realistically, Kate had had time to prepare herself for Sara's death. She'd been sick for over a year, barely alive for the month leading up to her passing, but Will had been healthy, full of life, and had been just as quickly taken away from them.

The car ride to the Byers' house had been quiet between Kate and her father. She didn't quite know what to say to him, and he didn't know what to say to her, either. She'd shown up at the station just to see him: Hopper couldn't think of the last time his daughter had gone to him and not someone else for comfort. He didn't know if he was supposed to ask, if he was allowed to ask, but for now, he would let her sit in silence, let her gather her thoughts before they went inside of the house.

Officers Callahan and Powell had arrived at the Byers' house before Kate and Hopper, and they had already begun searching the home for any new or relevant evidence to the Will Byers case. Whenever Kate walked inside, she couldn't help but stare at all the Christmas lights that the house currently seemed to be drowning in, the smell of drying paint on a wall where the alphabet had been painted, a corresponding Christmas light hanging above each letter.

She felt so out of place in that house. Everything had started to click into place for her: she didn't know much about the Byers, but the town's assumption of them, especially at the moment, made a lot of sense for her. The Byers, more specifically Joyce, Jonathan's mother, had always been rumored to have a few screws loose. Kate couldn't judge them for it, not in the slightest: her family was far from perfect, too.

Hopper had started to explain the situation to Joyce once he'd gotten situated. "A trooper found something in the, uh… water that's at the quarry. Our working theory right now is that Will… crashed his bike, he… made his way over the quarry and, uh… accidentally fell in. The earth must have given way…"

As Hopper went on, Joyce Byers seemed as if she could have torn at the seams.

"Joyce?" He hesitated before calling her name again. "Joyce. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"No," Joyce finally answered, her voice breathy, brittle. She visibly trembled. "Whoever you found… is not my boy. It's not Will."

"Joyce."

"No, y–you don't understand. I talked to him… a–a half-hour ago!" She sniffled as she walked over to a cupboard in the living room with even more Christmas lights sitting inside of it, these ones a solid white instead of the colored ones. "He was… He was here. He was… He was talking with these." She picked up the set of Christmas lights, showing them to Hopper.

His heart ached for her, it really did. He knew the pain of losing a child, but his loss was to illness. He hadn't been in denial like this.

Jonathan and Kate stood behind her father, watching as Hopper tried to fix things. Jonathan took a heavy breath, trying to stop himself from crying. He couldn't believe his mother was taking the thing with the lights this far even now, even after they'd found Will's body.

"Talking?"

"Uh-huh. One blink for yes, two for no." She then put those down and moved to the Christmas lights that hung on the wall with a corresponding letter underneath each light. "And… And, uh… And then I made this so he could talk to me. 'Cause he was hiding… form that… that thing."

Kate's stomach twisted into knots as she watched the woman unravel before her: she'd seen the impact of grief with her own parents, mostly her father, with losing their youngest. At least they had had some type of closure as Sara slowly spiraled—this was just all so sudden. Even through all the second-hand pain she felt for the middle-aged woman in front of her, Kate had no idea what the hell she could have possibly been talking about.

"The thing that came out of the wall? The thing that chased you?" Hopper asked, attempting to get as much clarity on the situation as possible, if he could get any. He knew she sounded absolutely insane, but he didn't blame her. He couldn't blame her. She had just found out her youngest boy was dead.

"Yeah," Joyce said, her voice breaking. Even she knew she was dangling from the edge. "Yeah."

"Mom, come on, please," Jonathan said, walking over to her. He didn't even try to fight the tears pooling in his eyes. "Please, you've got to stop this."

"No, maybe he's… It's after him!" she shouted at her oldest son. She turned to Hopper. "He's in danger. We have to find him! We—"

"What exactly is this thing? It was some kind of animal, you said?" Hopper asked her.

"Uh, no, it was… I–It was almost… human, but it wasn't. It… It had these long arms and… it didn't have a face."

Jonathan finally walked away to his room, and Kate ran after him. She knew he needed someone, quite frankly, anyone. At least, that's all she had wanted when Sara died.

He closed the door behind him, but she caught the door before it could slam into the hinges. She wouldn't let him take this alone, not when she vaguely knew what he was feeling.

"Jonathan," Kate said softly, closing the door to his room quietly.

He couldn't fight his tears any longer. "She's in denial, even after they've found his…" Instead of finishing his sentence, he exhaled shakily.

"Hey, it's gonna take some time," she said, sitting next to him on his bed as he cried into her shoulder. After this, she thought that she and Jonathan Byers were trauma-bonded. "It's okay. You're okay. He… He's home now, and at least you have some closure."

He sniffled. "I should've never taken that extra shift. I wish I could just… just switch with him, or something."

Kate looked at her newfound friend with a tight-lipped frown. "No, don't say that. You can't do that to yourself. Trust me. When Sara died, I beat myself up over everything we didn't do together, or–or stuff we never did enough of, but I've realized that you can't control everything. It sucks, and I wish it wasn't this way, but some things were just… meant to happen. You can't blame yourself for something that's completely out of your control, Jonathan."

He finally let go of her, wiping his face and turning to look at her again. "I just… I wish he was still here."

Kate still held a tight-lipped frown. "Me too."

Suddenly, pulling them back to their new reality, there was a knock at the door. When it opened, her father was revealed, standing in the doorway. "Hey, kid, we gotta go."

She stood up from his bed, looking back to Jonathan. "Call me if you need anything. Really. Even if it's three in the morning, I promise I'll answer. But please try to sleep—you need it."

Jonathan nodded once in response. He supposed if anyone were to know how to deal with something like this, it would definitely be Kate Hopper. "Thank you."

Without another word, she closed the door behind her and followed her father outside to his SUV.

The following morning, Kate had asked her father to drive her to school.

She still didn't want to talk to Steve, not after yesterday. Quite frankly, she didn't have the energy to deal with him at the moment. She had hardly slept that night, just in case Jonathan had needed her again. Even if she thought he was a tad bit quirky, no one deserved to go through something like that alone. He didn't even have his own mother to lean on: she still thought Will was alive, even after his body had been brought back home.

For most of the car ride, it had been absolutely silent. No music, no talking—only the sound of the running engine.

Hopper didn't know how to ask what he wanted to ask. He didn't know how to start the conversation that he wanted to have with her in the slightest. He wanted to ask her why she'd gone to the station for him yesterday. He wanted to ask her why Steve wasn't taking her to school that morning. He wanted to ask why she was all of a sudden hanging out with Joyce's son. He needed to know.

He finally decided Jonathan Byers would be the easiest thing to tackle first. "So, you and Joyce's kid."

Kate didn't even turn to her father as she spoke, still looking out the passenger's side window. "It's a long story."

"Well, we've got time, kid," Hopper replied.

She sighed, somewhat annoyed. "I mean, do you really care?"

Hopper hesitated to respond. "Of course I do, you're my daughter."

That was something Kate hadn't heard him say in a long time: that he cared. Even if he hadn't said it directly, it was still enough. Without any more protest, she cleared her throat, turning to face him. "Uh, Steve broke Jonathan's camera, so I skipped his basketball game and took Jonathan out to dinner to make up for it, but he heard about Will and went home. I didn't want to walk home, so I went to the station to try to catch you. I had no idea he would be…"

She trailed off, but Hopper understood what she meant. "Wait, why'd he break his camera?"

Kate's blood went cold for a second. She didn't know whether it was better to tell the truth or to try and lie about it.

"Kate."

She took a sharp breath. "When I was over at Steve's a couple nights ago, Jonathan found his backyard and took pictures of us and the other people that were there from the woods." She paused, trying to collect her thoughts. "Please don't say anything to Joyce. Steve already… He did enough to him already, and his brother just died. I mean, don't get me wrong, it was so weird, but it wasn't worth breaking his camera over. Not right now."

Hopper hesitated to ask the question that popped up in his head. "And, uh, what'd your boyfriend think about that? You ditchin' and goin' with him?"

Kate laughed once hollowly, shaking her head slowly. "Steve isn't… He's not my boyfriend, Dad. Come on, you know that."

Hopper wanted to say something along the lines of,  "Well, he sure doesn't act like it," but he decided against it—he really didn't want to start a fight with Kate this early in the morning when things were going so well, even if he knew he was right.

When Hopper said that Steve reminded him of himself in high school, that also meant that he could read Steve like a book: all the dickish behavior and girls he saw him with around town would never be enough to convince him that Steve didn't care about his daughter. From time to time, he thought that maybe, just maybe Steve had a thing for her, but he tried not to think about it, mostly for her sake (also because she was with him alone all the time). She didn't seem all that interested in him anyway, especially not right now.

"I don't think he understands that I can keep my own, to be honest with you. I skipped his game after the whole thing because he was being such an asshole," she said, looking out the window again.

"Hey, watch it," he replied, mostly referring to her language. She turned back to face him before he spoke again. "But, uh… after what? Breaking the kid's camera?"

"Yeah, it was so stupid," Kate said. Bringing it up again had almost made her blood boil. "I mean, it was like something out of one of those cheesy high school movies. You had to be there to see it, it was such bullsh—ridiculous. He was being ridiculous."

Hopper nodded, almost chuckling. If she said he was being an asshole, then he was being an asshole. As they pulled up to the front of the school, Hopper turned to his daughter. "Hey."

"Yeah?" she asked, turning back to him before she jumped out of the SUV.

He hesitated. "Be careful, okay? I love you, kid."

She smiled back at her father, and it was a genuine smile. She couldn't remember the last time they'd had such a pleasant conversation. "Love you, too, Dad."

As she jumped out of the car, melting away into the mess of students, Hopper smiled—he couldn't remember the last time that Kate had told him she loved him. He started to believe that maybe, finally, things would begin to fall into place for the two of them.

As Kate walked through the halls, she played her music loudly through her headphones, not focused on her surroundings. Even though the music was loud, it seemed so much quieter than it normally was for her in the mornings, and she knew exactly the reason why: her head wasn't currently being talked off by Steve. She didn't know how long the serene tranquility would last before he came and found her, if he came and found her, that was.

Whenever she finally arrived at her locker, she had been more than surprised to find Jamie waiting for her. While they were close friends, Jamie didn't normally talk to her at school. She figured a lot of it had to do with the fact that he was senior, that and the crowd she kept. She wouldn't want to talk to her at school either.

She pulled the headphones off her ears, the music still softly thumping from them now hanging around her neck. "Hey."

"Hey," he said, smiling slightly at her.

Her mouth parted slightly, almost as if she couldn't believe she was looking at him. It was a weird sight, Jamie Schroeder at her locker, standing in front of her at school. "What are you doing?"

"Haven't seen you since Monday night, so I thought I'd swing by."

Her eyebrows furrowed together, almost displeased with his answer as she dug through her locker to find her notated copy of The Great Gatsby. "That's all? Can't handle it without me a couple days?"

"Nah, it's not that. Last night was boring without you, though, if that makes you feel any better," he said. "Speaking of which, someone came in last night asking about Jane Austin books, and I was bummed the expert wasn't there."

When she turned around, book in hand, Kate avoided eye contact with him, trying not to smile as her face flushed pink. "Don't tell people my secrets."

He laughed in response, not scared of her in the slightest. "Why? Because you're too cool for romance, right?"

"Who said that?" she asked.

He only smiled in response. Jamie had always been infatuated with Kate Hopper, ever since the day he met her. 

He could still remember that day like it was yesterday. It had been late June 1981, the week after her fourteenth birthday. While he'd been about a year older than her, he had thought she must've been an upperclassman that he just hadn't seen around before. By looks alone, Kate had seemed much older than any of the other girls he'd met his own age because of the slight bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her face. With that, those things didn't make her any less pretty. In fact, those things had, in his eyes, made her all the more beautiful. As he'd gotten to know her over the years, he'd come to find Kate more beautiful than any other girl he'd ever met—her laugh, her smile, her (slight, as she liked to call it) caffeine addiction… Jamie had come to admire many things about Kate Hopper over the years.

"So, what are you doing tonight? Hangin' out with Harrington or something of the sort?" he asked, trying to stay composed.

"You wouldn't believe it, but no," she started, immediately earning an odd look from him. "Yeah, crazy, I know. I haven't talked to him since yesterday."

"No, that's good," Jamie said. He immediately corrected himself whenever he saw her face twitch for half a second. "Not good, I mean." He paused. "How bad is it?"

"Bad enough where I made my dad drive me to school today."

Jamie winced, giving an uneasy look. "That bad, huh?"

Kate shrugged, pushing a piece of hair out of her face. "You'd be surprised, but I think this morning was the first time I've had a pleasant conversation with my dad since, like, Thanksgiving."

"Whaaat?" Jamie asked, raising the pitch of his voice. "You gotta tell me about that. That and what Harrington did to deserve this much shunning."

Kate laughed, but when she opened her mouth to speak again, the bell for first period rang. "Damn."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Jamie said as he began to walk to his first class of the day. "It'll give me something to think about before lunch."

She raised her eyebrows at him, raising her voice slightly as he walked away from her. "Hey, who said I was eating lunch with you?"

Instead of answering, he gave a dopey smile and a shrug, and Kate couldn't fight the smile that she now carried on her face as she made her way to her English class, pulling her headphones back over her ears, her copy of The Great Gatsby in her hand still.

Kate had no idea, however, that Steve had been standing across the hall, waiting to speak with her until she got finished. As she walked away without noticing him, which he hoped was an accident, he frowned.

Maybe Kate had finally grown tired of him, after all.

next chapter

tag list:

@thatsonezesty13 @cece5 @thepowerstoner @alovelytardis @coolchick333 @stand-tall-pineapple @littlet-holmes @guichu @cinderellabecauseshebroke

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x hopper!reader #stranger things #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington series #steve harrington stranger things

[kingdimitrx]

I really love your mermaid AU! I'm quite obssesed with it myself at the moment, so your doodles made my days! I'd love to know the story behind every character, but I feel like it would be too much to ask for :// Can I get some context for Muzan and Douma? If you don't mind, of course!

Ah! I’m so glad you like it, haha!! Do not say it’s too much to ask, if that’s what you’d like, send more asks and I’ll explain anyone! Since this ask, however, is just about those two, I’ll include just them here! I have context written out for everyone. I would love to give information on the AU as a whole, such as the setting, how my mermaids work, etc! But for now, we’ll start here. Context under the cut!

I… Wrote out a lot more for Douma than I did Muzan. (Sorry, my beloved Muzan-sama.)

Muzan: Captain Muzan Kibutsuji is a feared pirate captain among the high seas, a human man bent on finding the the Blue Spider Lily — a legendary flower said to hold the power to heal any illness, including Muzan’s own. The legend says that the Lily only grows on the Earth of one specific island, and Muzan is bent on finding it among other goals, killing anyone and everyone who ever gets in the way of his plans. He is such a feared man that even speaking his last name feels like a curse to other humans. Secretly, however, Muzan is actually a siren, one who left the waters and fled to the life of a human after a fated encounter with a certain sun-themed mermaid who cost him his left eye. The people among his crew include (but are not limited to), Michikatsu, Hantengu and the clones (who are their own people), Enmu, Kaigaku, and Nakime, among others. Douma: Captain Douma Hashibira is a seemingly human pirate. He’s a charming and very friendly man, with a crew full of people all dedicated to him for one reason or another. He’s neutral towards the mermaids, and actually seems to dislike humans more than he does like them! He would prefer not to resort to violence, but Douma can and will kill and mermaid or human if he deems it necessary. He weapon of choose is a pistol (he’s a near perfect shot), but he also bears two golden fans on him that he’s much more proficient with. His ship is called the Eternal Paradise.

Douma’s crew is very similar to his cult.

In his early life, he was born a mermaid to human parents, which shocked everyone. No one knew why they had given birth to merfolk - it must have been a gift from the Gods.

From there, a cult and religion and temple was created in Douma’s name, the temple itself just looked a little differently to accommodate Douma being aquatic.

When Douma was around fifteen, he figured out that he could turn into a human. (He had been bored, and was testing his body.) He then began to learn how to live life as both a human and a mermaid, and eventually, he left the cult altogether.

His followers came after him, and together, he and the rest of the cult formed a sort of crew. The only reason Douma left in the first place was because of his curiosity about the outside world, and along the way, and he became a well-known pirate captain.

Also, he’s a carnivorous mermaid. He feeds on his crew. In this AU, the whole Kotoha thing still pretty much happened, but without the “Douma killed her” part.

Kotoha fled from her violent husband and mother in law with baby Inosuke, and ended up running into Douma. Douma shot the people threatening right them and there, in front of her, and then abandoned the bodies and took her to his ship, which she went to willingly. She lived with him, as a pirate, until Inosuke was a year and a half.

Kotoha and Douma were very much romantically involved, and even though they never married, Douma uses her last name. Douma Hashibira. However, Kotoha mysteriously went missing one night, and Douma never fucking saw her again. He doesn’t know if she died, if she left, if she was taken, nothing. He had Inosuke, but no Kotoha.

From there, he raised her son! Inosuke is still on the ship with him, and calls him dad. Hisato and Hana (OCs) are like cousins to him.

(Secret! Kotoha is actually still alive, and out in the open ocean! She was lured overboard by a siren, and was then drowned. She ended up becoming a mermaid herself—there’s a process there, however, she lost all memories of herself and her life in the process. She lives like a sea animal. Maybe one day, she’ll return…)

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #douma my beloved #kny #machigai ask box #machigai au #demon slayer muzan #muzan kibutsuji #mermaid au #mermay

[lemonberyy]

while im here actually. art dump

bloodswap human Calliope, one with makeup and one without. because i CAN suckers. isn't she silly? And a little ominous? A touch murder-y?

this one is her cherubic design! i put a lot of thought into the references i can make with her outfit. Namely though, I wanted to kind of make it look like a complete mish-mash of several inspirations from LE, haute couture, alt callie, and a few other bloodswap designs I'm familiar with. She's the LADY OF SPACE! Referred to as Her Grace of Space. The Goddess of Vast Light. She isn't exactly going to be subdued in her look. She wants everyone to look upon her with immediate recognition, and following it will be fear.

This one I JUST finished. Like last night at eleven pm just finished. Rendering my beloathed... This is inspired by song lyrics from Circle With Me by Spiritbox and Cyberhex by Motionless In White. I really like the idea of the imagery of Callie consuming the Green Sun. It's striking!

this is calamity in fantasystuck. she in fact compl abhors this dress . No cheek nonsense because TECHNICALLY she's dragonborn but i cannot draw dragons. I have one setting. It's cherubim.

this one is from a post canon au. i have a bazillion words as to how caliborn is on earth c it's all headcanon but it's all good and silly and he is Short and she is Tall (i also have a bazillion words for why Callie is able to start maturing properly post canon)

you know what, past me? this is my post! im gonna put all two-bazillion words on here actually. what am i thinking hehe? my post is a place for my words. silly joan!

So, for why Caliborn is on Earth-C. I honestly had fun rationalising this one!

For one, Caliborn is very, very cold. Another thing is that- I don't think cherubim were meant to go into black holes. I'm pretty sure that, while yes they mate near them, I don't think they fall in. It's something I feel is just something that doesn't happen. So cal being trapped within one is notable. But, we aren't talking about Caliborn being trapped! We're talking about him getting out.

Honestly if he were to tell it, he'd say he "FOUGHT TO GET OUT." or something. But the truth is he fractures,* his young body is rejected and he falls out. He retains only the passive effects of his godtier, like an understanding of timelines and being able to traverse them. But he has no control in this state.

*What do I mean by this? I basically think that he and le are seperate entities. In a lot of ways they literally are! Le is a combination of several souls and abilities and powers. He kinda reminds me of how the Condesce can learn all caste abilities. Caliborn has the abilities and knowledge of several godtiers including his own complete mastery of time. So, when Caliborn falls out and onto Earth-C, it's just a fraction of his soul and body. He's young again because it's a portion of his (falsely) mature body and he's very weak because it's only a portion of his soul. The rest is in the black hole. And due to some fuckery, he can feel it too. It's cold. He's constantly dizzy and disoriented. He is especially unnerved by this because cherubim are... this incredible species. He feels sick without context for what illness feels like. It's a pretty terrible experience for him but he's at least well enough to still be terrible to everyone.

Now for Callie. Honestly this is one is more simple. Her life ring fills her body with the very force of life! She may not have predominated, but she is full to bursting of more than enough energy for her body to age correctly. She can grow wings, become much taller, and toned. She doesn't really understand it yet but she really likes walks and runs because it's her body telling her to exercise and maintain her muscle mass.

alt callie...... 🥰 that's all send tweet

this is a magical girl au. one with her soul gem and one without. i have a bazillion words on all the symbolism here actually. For one I made her wish to be beautiful, which is why her face and everything is very Pretty and Sculpted and Lovely. Secondly though. Her soul gem, the space symbol in her birthmark, is a whole thing. She thinks her birth mark is a blemish on her looks, and seeing it not only A) remain after her wish and B) be her weakest point in a battle felt kinda like a slap in the face. (However it couldn't be erased because she Does like it. She just doesn't quite realise that). ALSO the space-looking symbol behind her? It's not Space! It's void, but she's FILLING IN THE SPACE... it's also Roxy's pink! They r soon to be dating... fills the void in her heart? Eh? Eeh?

anyways. uhhh homestuck cherubim are ok i guess

#oh man now i have to tag all of this. #bery blithers #bery art #homestuck #hs fanart #calliope homestuck #alternate calliope #alt calliope #hs2 #calliope #caliborn #homestuck cherubs #homestuck cherubim #bloodswap au #bloodswap cherubs #bloodswap calliope #magical girl au #post canon au #fantasystuck #calamity jane #calamity homestuck #human au #if i have to type homestuck one more time i might die

[stitchthesewords]

Stitch I am literally so normal about your heroes au but what did you do to my mossy man??? I saw what you did to my bois Scar, Grian, Mumbai Jumbolio (concussed idiot), and Iskall but what did you do to my moss ball HM???? I’m so normal about this I swear

WELL I'm glad you asked.

So what I'm thinking is that Bdubs....well he's had a rough time methinks. Imagine feeling vines burst from your body all over the place for the first time - that's gonna hurt. AND - technically - the NHO can't talk to each other. They aren't supposed to know one another. Sure, they get around that by communicating with hidden messages in their weapons and figuring out which cameras don't work or sometimes going to Doc to just speak, but - well. Bdubs is alone for the most part. Alone to deal with the pain, the new powers, and suddenly being one of the most important heroes in Boatem.

And he's good at it too. Sure, he'll downplay how good he is, but once he gets a hang of things he's on par with some of the other top heroes in the city, past and present. But I don't think he likes it. I think he's got like a month of trying desperately to convince himself that this is so COOL and he's BADASS before he probably falls into a depression at how much he risks his life nearly every day for 60k and health insurance and he doesn't even get to see his boyfriends. Well - his- his friends. Its not like they're dating or anything and Bdubs has only ever seen Doc's face and-

Yeah he's a mess.

RELATED - I do imagine they will get out of the lab and I've actually uh. WRITTEN something for this so the taglist and story are below the cut

Doc’s eye gave a lot more information than Etho’s own, but it was older. It wasn’t designed solely for field work. The fact that it broke, and Doc couldn’t be the one to fiddle with it had Etho feeling ill, but he’d manage. He felt weirdly exposed, sitting in a room with the three of them and yet entirely out of The Lab’s reach. Their escape was a miracle and Etho certainly wasn’t about to go asking any questions.

No one removed their disguises unless Doc’s eye counted as one. The creeper hybrid laid at Etho’s feet ,the bald and mottle skin around his bad eye on clear display. Etho huffed as he struggled with a screw that didn’t want to come loose. In the background, he could still hear Bdubs fighting back pained whimpers.

“Someone’s going to have to go first,” Beef said. “And – You already know my name. So.” He caught Etho’s attention, the man barely lifting an eyebrow as his head snapped to attention. Where Bdubs’s laid on a rinkydink little mattress, he was watching too.

Beef reached up and pressed a button on the underside of the mask. There was a mechanical hiss sound that Etho couldn’t help but associate with something breaking, but he watched with rapt attention anyway as the two pieces came apart and Beef discarded them on the ground. He hadn’t actually looked at Etho or Bdubs proper yet, too preoccupied with smashing the mask underneath his foot with a glare, but Etho couldn’t help but feel like his face fit his voice.

He was glad his mask hid most of his face as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly. Beef was…handsome to say the least. Etho liked the beard. He watched Beef kick the remains of what was his mask across the room, and they skittered on the tile. He looked up at Bdubs first and then to Etho proper, smiling a little and coming to sit beside him. Or, well, lean on the boxes Etho was leaning on too.

“That feels better,” he said, watching Etho’s hands as if they were moving at all.

The spy cleared his throat and went back to fighting with a screw. “For someone named the Butcher you’re a lot prettier than I expected,” he said, not looking in Beef’s direction. Beef laughed, though it cut itself off when Bdubs winced again, partially sitting up.

“I’ll go next, since everyone’s so keen-“ he said with another wince. Etho had glimpsed parts of his face, but never all of it. Never enough to get the full picture. He felt his throat going a little dry. Bdubs was…special. Important. It felt wrong to play favorites, and Etho’s brain argued that he wasn’t, not really. But Bdubs was the one who underwent the procedure. He was the one who was in pain when none of them could hold him. Someone should be holding him now.

His reveal was a little easier, since all he had to do was flip up the veil. Or pull the hood down, though as Etho understood it, the hood was a part of him now. Still, the suddenness of the motion might’ve knocked Etho off his feet if he wasn’t being supported. Beef laughed at the look in Etho’s eyes, though he was also clearly taken with Bdubs at the moment.

He was…breathtaking felt like the right word. Etho was pretty sure between Beef and Bdubs he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. His face was so soft, even as he refused to look either of them in the eyes. He winced again and fell back on the mattress and Beef snapped to attention, crouching next to Bdubs as the veil fell back into place. Etho wanted it gone. He heard Beef say something soft to him and Bdubs say something back, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying over the sound of the blood rushing around his ears.

“Etho?” that was Doc’s voice. It snapped Etho’s attention down to the floor. The creeper hybrid had an almost snarl on his face, though it was not directed towards Etho but the eye in his hand. “The damn thing broke again, huh,” he said.

Etho swallowed and nodded because he didn’t think he could get words out at the moment. Doc’s good eye squinted to see around the room and reminded Etho of his task. Doc needed to be able to see.

Beef looked up as Doc started squirming to sit up and he smiled a little. “Ah! Oh good, Doc, you’re awake,” he said. With one hand he dragged the mattress Bdubs was laying on over to where Etho and Doc were, though Bdubs protested the motion (“I’m fine! I’m only a few feet away! Stop it!”). Doc froze as he realized, it seemed, that he was seeing Beef’s face, and his hands reached out. Beef laughed and he sat on the floor in front of Doc and the two had a very quiet moment of Doc simply holding his face and staring.

“Of all the times for my eye to be broken-“ he complained.

“I’m working on it,” Etho said, waving the screwdriver around and trying to not make it so obvious that he was too busy watching everyone else. They were safe, they’d gotten away.

For now.

“Etho still hasn’t taken that mask off, so you haven’t missed everything,” Beef explaining, looking up at the only other man in the room who really knew what he was doing with Doc’s eye. He blinked, once again pausing on trying to get the screw loose.

“Ah, my face is nothing special. I’m working,” he said. A shaky hand readjusted on the screwdriver as he pointedly ignored everyone in the room looking at him.

“Etho.” He wasn’t sure who spoke. His brain really only registered that someone said his name.

“It’s true. I look like every other white-haired guy with a red eye,” he said, trying to make it come out as a laugh. He flipped the device in his hands over and worked on a different screw. He didn’t register the vines moving to peel his toy away until it was too late to stop Bdubs, who winced but did it anyway. Even though the veil, he could see where Bdubs was trying not to be too grossed out by the fact that he was technically holding Doc’s eye.

Etho huffed and smoothed his bare fingers over his shirt. The gloves protected most of his hand from most sensation, so it was nice to remind himself he could fully feel something. Grounding, like the mask. When he looked up again, Bdubs’s vines were holding his screwdriver and Doc’s eye far out of reach, and everyone was still looking at him.

“You’re going to have to give that back. Doc needs to be able to see,” Etho said, crossing his arms. He felt very put on, still standing while everyone else sat around him. It felt like he was on a stage. Like he was being devoured by eyes.

“Etho, we want you to show us your face too,” Bdubs said. Etho registered in the back of his head that the veil was gone. He swallowed, finding it difficult to even look away from Bdubs.

He cleared his throat and managed to turn his head anyway, and with a deep breath he reached up to pull it down. Taking it all the way off felt like too much. Even now, he liked what little anonymity the mask gave him, and he knew he’d probably pull it back up after they saw their fill. He moved to sit down with them before turning back to look at them.

There was a soft and collective inhale, and Bdubs’s face broke out in a smile. “I knew it! Beef owes me five bucks!” he shouted, and Beef smacked him on the shoulder while Etho looked on, confused.

“I – What?” he asked.

“The scar! It goes all the way down your neck. Beef thought it ended on your cheek,” Bdubs said, clearly very proud of himself. “I knew that couldn’t be true because there’s a little bit of it that peeks out from under the button on the neck part-“

Beef smacked his shoulder again while Etho’s face burned, though frankly it was probably better than one of them waxing poetic about his features or thinking he was ugly. He could handle a bet for now and pulled his mask back up.

Doc didn’t say anything, but Etho could tell when the hybrid was cocking an eyebrow at him. He didn’t have eyebrows, but that wasn’t important. It was being cocked. “…I like the mask,” Etho said quietly, holding out his hand for Doc’s eye back.

@atherix @braxiatel @greatbridge @ellalily @lesbianwilby @em-mermaid @loombarrow @sparksnevadas @aceofthefandoms

#Asks #Anonymous #Superhero AU #NHO #Hermitshipping #technically speaking

[aficionadoenthusiast]

tsoa IS a good book, even divorced from the iliad, and its a very emotional interpretation of the relationship between achilles and patroclus. But you cant fault someone being frustrated that for a majority of people, at the very least on this site, tsoa's interpretation is THE ONLY interpretation of the relationship between achilles and patroclus, because their only knowledge of the content of the iliad is what was said in tsoa. And Miller (purposely, and its not inherently a bad thing) made a lot of changes to better fit the narrative of what tsoa was trying to say: patroclus' worth was disminished (reliable narrator... unreliable narrator... the text is still the text) to emphasize his adoration of achilles, and it was effective! But the frustration comes from the constant lack of awareness people have of the distinctions between patroclus' modern portrayal (which is not entirely Miller and tsoa's fault: hades game and now, the holding achilles play also portray achilles' and patroclus dynamic in a similar way as tsoa) and how patroclus, and achilles for that matter, are in the actual iliad.

There is also thetis, and while I am not here to judge Miller's antagonizing of thetis in her book (which again, fit the narrative), you have to admit it is a bit saddening to see thesis constantly villainized without distinction wheras thetis in the iliad, had no actual ill toward patroclus, her most defining interactions with him being her weeping with her son on the shore while hes holding patroclus' body, and her giving patroclus the nectar and ambrosia of gods to keep his body from decomposing. Her relationships with both her son and husband were also "healthier" as she embody maternal love as her narrative role in the iliad.

Lastly, I think it all just comes down to tastes: while I do appreciate the soft and dramatic, almost forbidden, yearning of tsoa, I think I would enjoy it more if it was a more casual, unquestionned kind of love, the one you dont really think about until it is violently and tragically taken from you. After all, gay relationships are as diverse as any relationships. And I feel this one lacks representation, not just for achilles and patroclus, but just in general.

I apologize for the essay, this is not meant to be an attack nor a lesson, just to offer an argument from another point of view. A plesant day or night to you

hi anon! this is the post they're talking about for anyone interested.

first off, i want to say thank you for being respectful. when i opened this ask, i was honestly expecting something way worse just based on the tsoa hate i've seen.

second, when i say tsoa hate, i'm not talking about people who are frustrated that the majority of the iliad retelling content is tsoa or the people who just didn't like the book. that's fine; everyone's entitled to their opinion, and i don't expect everyone to love the book as much as i did, and, honestly, i can understand the frustration (though i generally am only looking for tsoa stuff)

everything you said is very true, but the hate i'm talking about are the people who are straight up blaming madeline miller and tsoa for everything wrong with all modern portrayals of the iliad. i won't link any of it because i don't want people who see this to click on the links just to spread hate, but believe me when i say there is a ton of it, and most of it is full of toxic masculinity, almost none of it as tagged as hate or anti, most of it mentions achilles and/or patroclus as 'soft uwu gays', all of it tags just 'tsoa' or 'patrochilles' so anyone looking for tsoa content has to see it, and all of it hates on miller for being uneducated for bullshit reasons.

the 'soft uwu gays' is the thing that really bothers me. (look up 'soft uwu tsoa' to find some of it if you want to see what i'm talking about.) hating the book is fine! like i said, not everyone's gonna have the same opinion on the book as i did. but ignoring the whole message of the book to instead prioritize traditional ideas of masculinity, and then to act like the book is feeding into a gay stereotype by making the two of them loving partners? that is straight up homophobia and sexism.

besides, the book is a retelling. it is not gonna be the same as the iliad, and that's how it's supposed to be. the point is to offer new perspectives on old stories.

i will admit that the tsoa fans that act like it's just another version of the iliad and can be taken as a substitute for the iliad are annoying and wrong. there are indeed many differences.

(reiterating: no hate on you! you were incredibly respectful and made very good points, and i'm not trying to call out everyone who didn't like tsoa! just the ones who can't figure out how to hate respectfully or have a conversation instead of an accusation match)

for the unreliable narrator thing, that is a big deal imo. if the narrator is unreliable, there is nothing in the book you can trust. in this case, the part you can't trust is patroclus' true role in the fighting as well as the real level of badassery between the two of them. like i said in the original post, the book was purposefully written to leave out a lot of the fighting because she wanted to highlight the duality of warriors, but the soldiering side is already known from the iliad which left madeline miller to speak on the loving side of patroclus and achilles via patroclus' perspective and narration.

as for thetis, i'm not gonna lie, i have not yet read the iliad, but i have read excerpts, summaries, and i have studied it (i just lost so much credibility but it's fine), so i can't speak on her tsoa portrayal (though i will say that i have never acted like tsoa is canon iliad). what i can speak on is growing up with controlling parents. i'll just leave it at it fucking sucks. although, it would have been cool to see a supportive thetis!

thanks for the ask! and, again, most of this doesn't apply to you! you were very respectful, and you had very good points!

have a good day or whatever time it is where you are!

edit: i took out the first reference to canon relating to the iliad. see notes for more info.

#ask #tsoa #patrochilles #madeline miller