#I can WRITE that but that's not really what I'm working on anymore.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #12

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"Everyone should be delighted to know me."

"Tick tock, the clock is ticking."

"What a fantastic idea!"

"Not going to destroy the world or anything."

"You're awful at solving riddles."

"That was a poor decision."

"Do you really think you can handle the truth?"

"I never thought I'd see you again."

"Why did you lie to me?"

"This isn't the end, it's just the beginning."

"You promised you'd never leave."

"There's more to this story than you know."

"I'm not the hero you think I am."

"Sometimes, doing the right thing means making tough choices."

"If you walk away now, don't bother coming back."

"I've kept this secret for far too long."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"They'll never believe us, but we have to try."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"No one else knows, and it has to stay that way."

"Do you trust me?"

"We can't let them win."

"You have no idea what you're getting into."

"This changes everything."

"I thought I knew you."

"I've waited my whole life for this moment."

"You were the last person I expected to see."

"Why does it always have to be you?"

"We're running out of time."

"Do you think they suspect anything?"

"I've made up my mind."

"This isn't what I signed up for."

"How can you be so sure?"

"We can't afford any mistakes."

"You can't keep running away from your past."

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"Sometimes, the hardest thing is to let go."

"You know this isn't right."

"What are you hiding from me?"

"We have to stick together."

"I'm not giving up on you."

"There's no turning back now."

"I never wanted any of this."

"What if we don't have a choice?"

"It's time to face the music."

"You have to trust your instincts."

"Everything we've worked for is at stake."

"I didn't expect you to understand."

"This is our only shot."

"I'm not interested anymore."

"You owe me an explanation."

"We can't do this alone."

"I thought you were on my side."

"This is bigger than both of us."

"What do you have to lose?"

"I can't pretend anymore."

"You're not as invisible as you think."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"You're the only one who can help."

"We need to be careful."

"Are you with me?"

"No, this is enough."

"I don't think I can do this."

"Ok, so sue me."

"What a fine young man."

"This isn't about you."

"I know what I have to do."

"We need to find a way out."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not as simple as it seems."

"I can't believe it's come to this."

"This isn't over yet."

"What's the plan?"

"Take me to court."

"There's no easy answer."

Drabble Masterlist

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[witherby]

hello! great work so far :-) im getting into batfam myself and been loving the platonic/familial works you do w littlest wayne! was wondering if you'd ever do an teen y/n or just an older one? I'd love to see you tackle the idea of a robin y/n or jaybe just some angsty kid stuff,,,,,, hope you had a good new years!

-- :33Anon

I love angst with my whole heart and soul, and I'm happy to write it with a slightly older Reader. Hope you don't mind I've commandeered your prompt to showcase the ability you guys voted on.

This one's a long read so I'm splitting it up. This part is roughly 2400+ words.

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 1/2)

Masterlist is Here!

Uncle J'onn is looking at you curiously.

He's been doing that a lot, lately. When Daddy brings you to the Watchtower to be babysat so he can go save the world, one of his co-workers that they can afford to spare gets put in charge of keeping an eye on you. Usually it's Uncle Hal, but this time it's J'onn and he's in his natural form, which you don't mind. Green is your favorite color, and his whole body is green! He's nice and calm, and tells you lots of stories and plays any game you want, even if it's hard for him not to cheat and read your mind. He says it's instinct. You don't hold it against him because you still have fun.

Lately, though, when he talks to you, he tilts his head a bit. He usually does that when he can't understand something.

You wipe your face, checking for cookie crumbs. All clean. You search your shirt for any weird marks or stains. All clean. You scrunch your nose and puff out your cheeks, pouting.

"What's wrong, uncle J'onny?" You ask him. Daddy says the way to get honest answers from someone is just to be forthcoming (Dicky told you what forthcoming meant when you asked him later), so you are. "Did I do something wrong?"

That seems to snap his train of thought. J'onn shakes his head and goes back to sorting out the jigsaw puzzle pieces for you. You're good enough at this to do 100-piece puzzles, now, and when you get really stuck you don't even cry anymore!

"Nothing is wrong, Flittermouse," he says, watching you start putting the edges together first like Dami taught you. "You are simply...changing. Differences are not inherently wrong."

"What's inherably mean?"

"Inherently. It means instinctively, or something that is "set in stone." A rule that does not change. I am stating that change is not something that is always wrong. It's not a firm rule."

You pout and try to process all of that in your brain. It was a partial answer. Daddy says that means people might want to hide something from you.

"What's changing?" You ask him. "I got older a week ago. Is that what you mean? I'm four, now. Grandpappy says I'm getting so big and growed up. He says to not do that so fast. I dunno how, though. He's silly."

J'onn hums. His eyes look away from you as he considers what to say. You put one whole edge together before he speaks again.

"You know that I am not a human, correct?"

"Yeah, I know," you say. "I don't care. I love you. And auntie Diana. And uncle Clark. And uncle Barry. And —"

"Thank you," J'onn gently interrupts. "Do you also know that, sometimes, humans are born not entirely human? That sometimes they get special abilities?"

"Yeah, I know that," you repeat.

"I suspect that —" he cuts himself off, hesitates, then starts again. "Little one. You are showing signs of being one of those humans with special abilities."

"I am?" You ask. You perk up. "Can I fly?!"

You immediately abandon the puzzle and climb onto your chair, about to jump off of it to try and fly around, but J'onn catches you by the back of your shirt before you can hit the ground.

"You cannot."

"Aww...then I don't wanna be a megahuman," you complain, stomping your foot.

"Metahuman."

"Whatever."

"I am sorry," J'onn says, "I did not mean to upset you. I do think you are developing powers, however."

"Not fly powers?" You frown.

"No, not flight powers."

"Boring," you say, blowing raspberries. J'onn cracks a smile at your antics and you giggle. "Help me do the puzzle, please!"

"Alright," he relents, sorting more pieces for you. You're both quiet for a while, and you get the whole frame done before he speaks again.

"Little one. Do you know your father's rule about metahumans?"

"Yeah," you say, grinning, because you're a great listener. You pitch your voice down and make it scratchy. It's adorable in your four-year-old tone. "No metas in Gotham. I am Nighttime. Raaahhh."

J'onn huffs in amusement. "Right. He usually means what he says, does he not?"

"Yeah," you agree, "daddy is a bad liar. He lied and said he didn't eated the last cookie once, but he did eated it. Alfie was mad, 'cause it was for Dami, but Dami didn't care. He likes brownies more than cookies. I like brownies, too."

"I figured," J'onn says. He's not looking at you again. This time he's frowning.

"Do you want brownies?" You ask, figuring that was the issue. "I don't have any. I can ask for some when Daddy comes back. I'm good at sharing, 'cause I'm a good noodle, like Jay says."

"No, but thank you for offering to share. Jason is right, you are a good noodle."

You preen. "I know!"

J'onn drops the subject again and helps you complete the puzzle. You squint at every piece in concentration and politely ask him if he can dim the lights so you can work better. He complies, and after another hour and a half, you have a completed image on the table.

"Yay! We did it!"

The sounds of chatter and footsteps appear down the hall moments later, and you spring to your feet in delight.

"Hello!!!" You shout.

A chorus of "hello!" greets you in return from multiple heroes, and the rest of the Justice League files into the room one by one. They don't look too roughed up, so the mission wasn't very dangerous. That's good. You stand by the door and offer them hugs. Everyone complies, to your endless delight.

"Daddy!" You cheer when you see him, running and hugging Batman's legs. He scoops you into his arms and you grin and point at the table. "Uncle J'onny and I dided a whole puzzle! I didn't give up!"

"Good job, Mouse," Bruce says, reaching out to adjust the light. "You did it in the dark?"

"Yeah," you grin, kicking your feet. "Did you punch bad guys?"

"I did."

"Did you win?"

"Yes."

"Can we have ice cream?"

"Maybe after dinner." He carries you down the hall and towards his temporary quarters, the place he'll stay after a particularly tough mission when he can't make it home right away, and deposits you gently on the bed. "I have to debrief with everyone, and then we can pack up and go home."

"Okay, daddy," you say, already digging through the nightstand for a toy to play with. "I stay right here!"

"Good job," he says again, kissing the top of your head, and leaves you alone with a small wave.

--

The next time you need to be at the Watchtower, it's with Uncle Clark and Auntie Diana. The mission wasn't a super dangerous one, so they both got to stay behind and entertain you.

Today, you're a cashier at your world-famous grocery store. You have the best ingredients all over the world.

"Welcome to the groshy store, what do you want stranger?" You demand, getting into character. Clark looks mildly offended.

"Whoa, hello. That's a lot of 'tude for a paying customer," he says.

"You didn't buy nothing yet! Whataya want!"

"Uh. Some carrots please."

"All out."

Clark narrows his eyes at you. "Can you check in the back?"

You turn around. You turn back.

"All out. Whataya want!"

"You barely looked!" He insists.

"FRESH OUTTA CARROTS, BUB. WHATAYA WANT."

"Oh my goodness, now there's yelling. I think I need to speak to a manager."

"Okay!" You shuffle across the room and grab Diana's hand, leading her back to Clark. "This is the manager. Auntie, tell him all the carrots are gone. He can't have any."

Diana covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. "You heard them, stranger. There are no carrots here."

"Well, aside from the blatant nepotism, auntie, I think you're hiding the carrots from me," Clark huffs, crossing his arms. "I need them for my soup. Guess I'll go to the grocery store across town. I hear they're nicer."

"No," you gasp, "wait. Okay maybe I have one secret carrot. I go get it."

You leave their giggling forms and run over to the toy box that was set up for you on the watch tower, thrusting your hands inside to dig around. You squint your eyes, but all the bright colors are hard to distinguish properly. In the dark spaces, deeper into the box, is where you cast your focus. Instinctively, you follow the trail and close your hand around a plastic carrot. You lift your hand triumphantly.

"Okay, got it!" You cry, only to startle when you find both Clark and Diana kneeling beside your toy chest. Diana picks you up around the waist and takes several steps back, and Clark's eyes turn that funny shade of blue they do when he's using x-ray vision. "Umm, I gotted the carrot already. It's in my hand."

"Are you injured?" Diana asks you, expression deadly serious. You frown and shake your head. "You're certain? I could sense something in that box with you."

"No, I'm fine," you promise. Clark stands up and his eyes go back to normal. He shrugs, brows furrowed.

"There's nothing in there but toys."

"Yeah," you nod, "toys and dark spots."

Both heroes look at you. You squirm in Diana's hold shyly.

"Um, want to pay for the carrot?" You ask, holding it up. "It's only ten dollars. Orrr one lollipop." You whisper conspiratorially. "I can be bribed."

Diana and Clark exchange glances. Clark gingerly takes the carrot from you and puts it back in the toy box.

"Sold. Let's go to the kitchen and pick out which flavor you want."

You grin, forgetting about the game, and Diana puts you on the ground so you can follow excitedly after them. With a couple "pretty please's" and your lethal puppy dog eyes, you even manage to get two lollipops. You ask to be hoisted onto the counter so you can swing your feet as you enjoy the candy, and both heroes perch on either side of you.

It's quiet for a while. It feels like that weird, anticipatory quiet you felt with Uncle J'onny, but you don't know what for, so you wait for one of them to speak. You finish off one whole sucker and open the second one when it happens.

"Mouse?" Clark eventually asks, "can you explain what you meant about your toys? That there are dark spots in there?"

"Yeah," you say, "shadows. Dark spots. Light not touching."

"And you can...feel shadows?"

You hum, thinking it over. "Um...yes. Kind of."

Clark and Diana look at each other again. They're frowning. You frown.

"Can you tell us what you mean by that?" She asks.

"Um. I wanted the carrot, for uncle Clark," you say, "so he can buy it at my groshy store. And the dark spots showed me where it was, and I grabbed it."

"Did they also help you complete the jigsaw puzzle, when you were with J'onn?" Diana asks. "It was quite dark when we got back." You nod.

"Yeah. Easier to do in the dark. It's not cheating!" You blurt. "I didn't cheated!"

"Okay, ya' didn't cheat," Clark agrees, gently patting your back. There's a slight drawl in his words which usually shows up when he's stressed out. "We're just curious, is all, darlin'. Seems you've got a... A special talent, we can call it."

"It's a power. They're a metahuman, Kal," Diana says simply, "and you know Bruce's rule."

The rule? Which one? Always brushing your teeth before bedtime? Or maybe no sweets until you finish your dinner? Hmm, but you haven't had dinner yet. That doesn't make sense.

"No metas in Gotham. I'm very aware, Diana."

"Then you see the problem."

Oh. Now you think you know why uncle J'onny was upset that day.

"Now wait a minute," Clark says. He looks genuinely angry, which confuses you. Did they not like that you could ask the dark for help? They had superpowers, too. You figured they would be happy. "They're his kid."

You are. You're Daddy's little Flittermouse, scampering around and bringing joy. That's what everyone tells you. They love you.

"You've seen how hard he works to keep us out of Gotham," Diana says. "We can be trusted to babysit, but we can't enter the city? What does that tell you?"

"That's different. He's territorial, we all know that. He's not a monster, Diana. He would never hurt them —"

"I'm not saying he is. I'm not saying he would. But I am saying that he doesn't bend his own rules. He does not make exceptions."

Oh.

You sit almost numbly on the counter and watch Clark and Diana start to argue over your place in Gotham. Over your place at home.

You think about Daddy's rule about no metas in Gotham. You think about your new ability to interact with shadows.

Oh.

The lollipop tastes like ash on your tongue and the tips of your fingers feel like tv static. When you blink, your eyes sting as they well up with tears. You've been so good about not throwing fits, about not being a crybaby, about being as strong as your super cool daddy and brothers and grandpa.

But you can't call them that anymore, can you? They don't want metas in Gotham, and that's what you are, now. You can't live with your family anymore.

Large, fat tears roll down your cheeks and your bottom lip wobbles. You whimper and both Diana and Clark whip their heads around to look at you in shock.

"No, oh no, don't cry," Diana coos, "you don't need to worry. Your father isn't —"

You bat her hands away when she reaches for you and jump off the counter, running underneath Clark's cape. They don't catch on to what you're doing in time.

Clark practically rips it off and fans it on the floor, floating above it with wide eyes. Diana kneels next to the fabric and frantically pats it, searching for you.

But there's nothing. You've fled into the shadow Clark's body cast and allowed the darkness to swallow you.

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle From Hell (3)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following PART TWO, Steve feels even more distant from his friends- especially you; Eddie reflects on memories he has of you two; Nancy and Jonathan work together for the paper; Robin does her best to navigate what being friends with you and Steve looks like; you seek comfort in one of the only ways you know how- calling Eddie

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy; kissing; implications of smut; horniness

A/N: You guys are literally the absolute best. I am having the best time writing this- I'm so inspired by all of you. The love you have shown this fic so far has me overwhelmed. Thank you for your kind words, you have helped me work through some serious writer's block. Your comments and reblogs are keeping me going fr

This is unedited; please let me know what you think and if I missed anything I should include as a warning.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

His hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling you in close for another searing kiss. He can’t catch his breath, but he’s just so desperate to stay close to you like this. Your lips are so soft against his and your mouth is so inviting as you yank him closer. You whimper against his lips and it makes him shiver. He feels weak in the knees as you feel so pliable to his touch. You melt into his embrace and sigh happily as his lips trail down your neck. 

“Want you,” you moan softly, tugging his hair. He groans at the sensation. “Need you so bad.” 

“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, bringing his lips back to yours. 

“Love you,” you moan.

Before he finds out  if he says it back, his alarm goes off and he’s brought back to his reality. He groans disappointedly, covering his ears with his pillow- desperate for a couple more minutes with dream you. There’s a bang at his door. 

“Steve! Turn that shit off!” Eddie calls from the other side of the door. He’s yelling but his tone is playful. Steve hits his alarm off and drudges out of bed finally. Eddie has coffee made and Steve forgets anything is wrong at the moment. 

“Did she say anything last night?” Steve asks groggily as he pours himself a cup. 

“Um, not really,” Eddie replies, taking a moment to think about it. “I mean, yes but not about anything that we don’t know already. She’s conflicted, she doesn’t know what to think or feel. She just wants time.” 

“Okay,” Steve replies, leaning up against the counter. He takes a sip of his coffee. He needs to get to work. He can talk about this with Robin when he gets there. 

When you called Eddie, you didn’t expect Steve to answer. You thought maybe he’d say something- you wanted him too. But he didn’t. You couldn’t read him anymore.

Eddie was thrilled to hear your voice. He’d missed you, and he’d missed talking to you. He wanted that piece back as soon as he could get it. He reveled in the way his name sounded coming from you. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to upset Steve- I heard the way he dropped the phone down…” 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says compassionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He’s met with a sad feeling of silence. 

“I’m happy you called,” he says gently. He hopes the sentiment makes you feel better. 

“I’ve missed you,” you admit, and Eddie feels like his heart might swell out of his chest. 

“It’s hard when the two people who you talk about everything with are the people you want to talk about,” you joke, and he laughs with you. 

“You can talk shit about me,” he teases and he hears you groan. He bites his lip, holding back a smile. 

“How are you doing?” You ask, changing the subject. 

“Much better now,” he flirts. 

“How are you doing, really?” You ask again, your voice sounding more fragile. 

“I meant, honestly- not great. But not worse than anyone else is doing right now.” 

“Yeah…” 

“I miss you a lot too,” he admits. He runs a hand through his hair, and it reminds him of how amazing it felt the last time you played with his hair. He’s craving that touch so badly. 

When you both were in high school, Eddie went out of his way to make sure you always had a seat at the table. He’d notice as you stood with your cafeteria tray, waiting for Steve to realize there was no open seat for you at his table. He’d wave obnoxiously to catch your eye and he’d smile at the way you’d get shy from the attention. He’d point at the empty seat next to him, and he’d grin as your eyes light up in realization you had a spot. You’d shuffle through the crowd and take your seat next to him. You’d take a seat and ruffle his hair in your hands. 

Eddie was always a creature of habit. As much as he exudes chaos, he actually thrives in having a routine. Don’t get him wrong- it’s never been a good routine… but it’s routine nonetheless. In high school it was a lot of the same. Tuesdays, Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout. He would get home way too late and never get in bed until close to 3am. Wednesday mornings, he’d sleep through his alarm and stroll into first period consistently 10ish minutes late. Thursdays he prepped for Hellfire, and then of course, the piece the resistance was Friday. Hellfire. An epic campaign that would run several hours and ensure the most recent shit week had been worth it to make it to that moment. 

He remembers that he was paralyzed when the group proposed to postpone Hellfire one time his first senior year. It snaps him out of his thoughts, as he was so wrapped up in you- and how close you were sitting. Eddie knew that hypothetically, it shouldn’t matter if the date changes. However, he couldn’t wrap his head around change. He hated it- still does. A disruption from his status quo throws off his entire week and it will take him too long to mentally recover. He knew that he came off as a hard ass, but he prefers it than trying to explain his mind to his friends. He had felt  his jaw tighten as he tried to rationalize with himself that it can be okay to switch it up. He unclenched his fists once he realized that he was making his knuckles white unintentionally. 

“Uh yeah, no problem. Saturday’s fine,” he was able to manage through gritted teeth. He relaxed when he could look past himself and see his friends smile, thanking him and happily chatting about the campaign. He smiled when he observed that his decision made everyone happy. That for him outweighed the internal struggle. 

He didn’t really listen to the reason everyone wanted to reschedule, but he picked up on after the fact that everyone is talking about the Snow Ball. He couldn’t help but recoil back into himself as his friends talked about their plans to go- who they’re asking, what suit they’re getting, what songs would play, and whatever. He couldn’t have cared less. Unless… 

His eyes wandered to sneak a glance at you. He wondered if you had plans- maybe you're hoping someone asks you. Maybe, he’s lucky and you were hoping that someone would be him. He wondered if you had a date. Maybe you already had been asked. It’s not like you had been aware of the way Eddie’s felt about you- unrequited feelings that tugged on his focus constantly since he’s known you. You caught his eye and offered him a shy smile and he could crumble. 

Eddie immediately averted his gaze, and focused his attention back on his friends. He ignored the way his face suddenly became so warm and he ignored the butterflies that were swarming around in his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on these feelings- he knew that there’s no way you feel the same. Who could possibly like him? 

He felt a pressure when the freshman looked at him, one of them having asked Eddie about his own plans. Eddie sees the way the kids look up to him, they idolize him. He knows they think he’s cool. He can’t let that go just yet, he loved it too much. He needed it. He wanted to have them hang on to this version of him for as long as they’d believe in it. 

So, despite his usual distaste in school sanctioned functions, he did not want to allow the kids to think he couldn’t score a date. He could only blame society so much before they realized it’s actually his own fear of putting himself out there that cramped his dating life more than anything else. He then resolves that he needs a date to this dance. He tells himself that it’s for the freshman, to keep up the cool facade or whatever. But in actuality, he just wanted to ask you because he wants to ask you out. It’s his perfect window of opportunity. 

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it, honestly,” you said, when one of the freshmen asked you if you had plans. “I’d been so busy with the play, I haven’t had a chance.” Eddie watched as you glanced over to Steve’s table. “Steve and I usually would go to this kinda thing,” you said quickly, and Eddie could see your apprehension despite your best attempt to hide it. “We’ll probably go as friends again.” 

He said nothing. 

A few days later, you called Eddie and he could immediately tell you’re upset. You’re doing your best to hold it together but he can tell you’re almost at your breaking point. 

“Hey,” you say, your voice straining as you try not to cry. “I know this is totally not your thing, but I’m kind of in a bind.” 

“What can I do?” He asked, sitting up straight on his bed. He was getting ready to locate his shoes or his keys- thinking you’re in trouble somewhere. He’ddrop anything to come get you. 

“I know you’d probably rather do literally anything else, but um, I have two tickets to the Snow Ball and I already bought a dress…” 

“I thought you’d be going with Steve?” He asked. You sniffled. 

“Um, yeah I kind of just assumed he’d take me. I didn’t realize that he asked out Nancy Wheeler,” you choked back tears. “I mean it’s not like that,” you lied, maybe not to Eddie but more to yourself, “we’re just friends. But I still thought He and I would be going together like as friends again- you know? But, uh, yeah- he is taking like a real date.” 

“I know you’d hate it, and I will make it up to you. But, I already bought the tickets and I can’t get my money back. It’s like not a date or anything, just like a friend thing…” 

“I’d be happy to take you,” he replied, sincerely. He can tell you were expecting him to fight you on it. When would you catch on that he’s willing to do anything for you? 

“Eddie, thank you so much,” you sniffled, still trying your best to keep it cool. “I owe you one,” your voice cracks and you hang up quickly before he gets a chance to say anything. 

Eddie didn’t really understand back then why you were even friends with Steve to begin with. Eddie thought Steve, frankly, was a total douchebag. However, once he actually got to know Steve- it was a different story. He couldn’t resent Steve. He loved him like a brother now. And once Eddie got to know the Steve you’ve always known, your feelings for him made sense. But at the same time, Eddie held his tongue for all the things Steve did or didn’t do for so long. Steve was good guy at his core, Eddie understood. But his actions didn’t reflect that in Eddie’s eyes. But it wasn’t his place to tell you that. It didn’t seem right. You’d known Steve so much longer than him. 

Nancy and Jonathan invited you and Robin to go with them to watch Lucas’ basketball game. You were excited to get out of your little apartment and support Lucas. Jonathan was photographing it for The Hawkins Post. Jonathan paced up and down the court side to get photos, and you sat up in the bleachers with Nancy and Robin. You were never one to go to school things really, but it was Lucas’s senior year and it was a big game- of course you were going to be there. 

“It feels weird, Steve not being here,” Nancy whispers to you and you nod in agreement. 

“Yeah, everything just feels weird right now,” you agree. “You and Jonathan are okay?” 

“We’re good. We’re doing good, um, still working through stuff but we’re going to just work through it.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Robin?” Nancy asks, and Robin turns her head to pay attention. “How’s things with Vicky?” 

Robin’s face turns tomato red. “Fine,” she mumbles, happily. “I’m gonna hang out with her tomorrow.” You elbow her teasingly, making her blush redden. 

“How’s it feeling? Being the best at all of this out of us?” You tease. 

“I don’t know,” she’s so embarrassed, it’s so sweet. “We both just like each other- it’s not that complicated. She’s so great.” 

The three of you turn your attention back to the game at the sound of the whistle. You clapped and cheered the loudest whenever Lucas had the ball. He tried to plead with the lot of you to tone it down, casting weary looks in your direction. You couldn’t help yourselves. You felt so proud of him. 

You decide to take a walk to the concession stands and get some snacks for everyone. You order four sodas and two large popcorns- one for Jonathan and Nancy and one for you and Robin. You fish the cash out of the front pocket of your jeans, and hand it to the kid working the window. You thank him, and balance it all in your hands to navigate carefully back to the stands. 

You see a familiar face coming down the hallway, sprinting. For a moment, you can’t help the smile that forms across the expanse of your face until you remember what’s been going on. Your face falls, and you feel so stupid for being excited to see him when it hits you again all at once. 

You don’t think Steve knew you’d all be here, because he looks just as surprised to see you. He stops and his sneakers squeak across the polished gym floor. He looks at you with an expression of pure panic. He totally didn’t think you’d be here. And you’re surprised he came alone- but of course he did, he’s Steve. Of course, he’s going to show up to every game for Lucas. You shouldn’t expect any less. It still takes you back. 

“Can I help with those?” he asked, gesturing for you to pass some stuff to him. You nod, and tilt so he can take some of the things from your grasp. 

“Where are you sitting?” He asks, and you nod your head towards Robin and Nancy. His face deflates. “Ah, okay.” He walks over with you, and he passes the items in his hand off to Robin. He moves aside so you can walk back into your spot. 

“Thanks, Steve,” you offer him a soft smile, appreciating the effort despite the circumstances.

“Yeah of course,” he mutters, backing away, lingering for a moment because the seat that’s usually there for him between you and Robin isn’t there. He quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and just heads over to the next row of bleachers, finding a seat next to a couple of his old basketball teammates that are here for their little brothers. 

Steve can’t even focus on the game,  he keeps trying to steal glances of you from his peripheral vision. He wants to know what Robin said that made you laugh like that, and he wished he could have heard your laugh- but you’re too far away from him. He watches as your jaw drops at something Nancy tells you, and he watches how you cheer so happily for Lucas. He wants to know if this is bothering you the way it’s bothering him. You look like you’re keeping it together and he wants to know if that could truly be the case. 

Even when you’re carrying so much hurt, you give off such a radiance that Steve and he’s sure everyone else is just drawn into. Your pretty smile and your bright eyes are all he can think about- he only knows when to cheer when he feels the people around him move. He smiles when you stand up and pose, pointing to Lucas- then Lucas matches it, giving it back to you. He watches as you both share that moment of just pure joy, and his heart aches. He doesn’t know if he could ever make you that happy. 

When the game was over, you looked to see if you could find Steve but there was no sign of him. You all invited Lucas to go out for celebratory pizza for his big win, but he wanted to go with his teammates. The plan fizzled pretty much after that. Robin wanted to get home so she could call Vicky and Jonathan and Nancy wanted to head home so Jonathan could start developing his photos. When you and Robin are walking out, you see a familiar van. 

“I’ll bum a ride from Nancy,” Robin assures you, pushing you in Eddie’s direction. She waves to Eddie from a distance and then jogs to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile. He pushes himself off of the hood of his van and walks over to you, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. 

“I thought you might be here,” he quips. “Plus, I had to poke my head in- Sinclair is some big shot apparently?” he jokes, “I had to check out for a few minutes.”

“He’s really great,” you agree. 

“Was Steve here?” Eddie asks. 

“Yeah I saw him. He didn’t really stay either- I mean he stayed for the game, but we didn’t talk really.” You shrug. 

“Well,” he says, trying to optimistically change the subject, “Do you wanna get out of here? I could give you a ride home or we could get food or something- or even just drive around and not talk. I’m not picky.” 

He looks so beautiful like this, you observe. The sky is pitch black but the lights in the parking lot illuminate him perfectly with a soft glow. His hair is wonderfully messy and his smile is making it hard for you to breathe. Has he always looked like this? You wonder, astonished as it hits you all at once. He’s gorgeous. Your eyes linger, taking in every little detail you’ve overlooked before. He waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” he tisks. 

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re trying to jump my bones,” he chuckles. Your face warms, and suddenly you realize how long you must have been staring. 

“Ha, right,” you joke sarcastically, or at least, trying to joke sarcastically. You walk past him and get into the passenger side of the van and try your best to compose yourself in the few seconds it takes for him to follow suit. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, turning over the ignition, “where to?”

“Can we just drive around like we used to?” you ask- the circumstances of tonight making you feel so nostalgic. 

“Of course we can,” he hums, passing you the case of his cassettes- a familiar and welcomed sight for your tired eyes. 

You watch Eddie as he drives, and observe the way the muscles in his arms flex ever so subtly as he turns the wheel. You watch his ringed fingers tap across the top of the steering wheel and you can’t help it the way your mind wanders. You’re so wrapped up in the way his hair sways so effortlessly and the movement of his jaw as he sings, you don’t even notice that Steve was leaving the gym just in time to see you both drive away. 

After a little while of aimless driving, and hitting up the drive thru, Eddie ends up parking at Lover’s Lake when neither of you are ready to go home just yet. 

“Eddie?” You ask absentmindedly, finishing off the milkshake he got you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he replies, also finishing his, but with an obnoxiously loud suck of his straw- determined to get every last sip. 

“Why do you like me?” you ask, cringing almost immediately. You think you sound like a middle schooler or something- you’re so embarrassed. His eyes widen for a brief second, contemplating his answer. He tosses the empty cup into the back. 

“First off,” he criticizes teasingly, “I did not say I liked you- I’m in love with you. Get your facts straight, ma’am.” 

“My apologies,” you giggle, holding your hands up in defeat.

“I mean- I love everything about you; always have,” he starts. “You’re sweet and kind. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re incredible, and sometimes I can’t figure out why you wanted to ever be friends with me in the first place.”

“Eddie?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Would you kiss me?” 

Eddie’s a goner when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. More than anything he wants to lunge across and close the space between you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back..

“I don’t know if I can kiss you without knowing if I could ever kiss you again,” He whispers, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in towards you. His hand lifts to hold your cheek and suddenly he’s so close. Closer than the two of you have ever been. His lips are tantalizingly close to yours when his forehead touches yours. A huge bang on the side of the van scares you both away from each other. 

“Give her time, my ass, Munson! Get the fuck out here! Get your fucking hands off my girl!”

Taglist:

@sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part two//t.c.

Warnings: mention of deception, possibly toxic relationship, small argument

He was so close, leaning onto the table with his hands. You turned your head, your heart racing, thinking he’d do something crazy like kiss you. There’s no way he would do that, right?

You watched him look at the laptop screen for a few seconds, but it felt much longer before he spoke. “I think it’s time for a lunch break.” He stood up straight, “Ready?”

You were brought back to your senses, “Yeah, um, what do you want me to go get today?” you asked, pushing your chair back and standing up as well.

“Actually, I thought we’d go out somewhere.”

"Oh." you said, shrugging, "Alright."

............

The lunch wasn't really anything special, he just took you to a sandwich shop where you sat in a booth and finished eating within ten minutes. But it was abnormal, considering the two of you had never gone out to lunch, or any other meal together. Typically, he would have you go pick up food from somewhere, mostly to give you a mental break from the workday, or you would order food to be delivered to his place.

After returning to his house, you decided to break the ice on a topic that he was dreading: the Golden Globes.

"So, have you been thinking about the Globes? Do you have an acceptance speech ready?"

"What are you talking about? I'm not gonna win." he slumped down in one of his comfy chairs in the living room.

"Timmy, you should have something prepared. I can help you write something."

"Yeah," he sighed, "I guess I should have something, just in case. That's your job for the rest of the day, write my speech." he smiled cheekily.

You giggled at his goofy face, "Okay, boss. You'll have to proofread so I don't leave anyone out on your thank you list. Should I mention Miss Jenner?” the last question was a bit of a joke. You didn't think Timmy would ever mention a significant other publicly, not even if he were married to someone for 10 years with children.

Timmy only rolled his eyes, “Yeah, no.” he said firmly, taking his phone out, looking at the screen.

“Are you guys…okay?” You knew this was a sensitive spot, but not sure exactly why.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” he said plainly. He did not want to talk about her.

You bit your lip, "Well, I will go get started on that speech, unless there's anything else you need me to work on?" you started to turn on your heel.

"No, nothing right now, y/n, thanks." he said to you, but kept his eyes on the phone.

You could not get your head around how nice he was being to you, not that he was ever particularly mean, except for the night before, but you were over that. But to actually thank you for just doing your job was not typical of him.

.........

Later on, evening hours were approaching, and it was nearly time for you to go home. You heard Timmy's footsteps trailing into the dining room. His phone was still in hand.

"She is wanting to text; I just don't have the energy tonight. Just keep her on the hook, make her think the relationship is secure." he said, attempting to hand the device over to you.

"Is the relationship not secure?" you asked, not sure if you should take the phone.

Tip-toeing around an answer, he shrugged, "Just say enough to make it so. You've done it for me before." he pointed out.

"I know...it just doesn't feel right. This is something you should be doing Timmy. What if she mentions something from a text that I sent, and you don't even know what she's talking about?"

"She won't. Don't worry about that, it's not that deep. Just send a few texts back and forth and it'll be done." his nonchalant attitude was a little unnerving.

You shook your head, "It just seems mean, like towards her. She is still just a girl, you know, I think she actually might like you, Timmy."

"It's not that serious, she knows that, but I need her to think that everything is fine."

"I don't want to lie for you anymore, Timmy."

"It's not lying." he insisted.

"It's not genuine. Even if you don't care about Kylie, she is still a person. She doesn't deserve to be deceived."

"I never said I didn't care."

"Well, you don't act like you do! What even is your relationship with her? You never say anything about her."

"You're my assistant, I don't have to talk about my love life with you." he gave you a dirty look.

You scoffed, "You have literally had me do your texting for you, and you want me to do it again! You are such a walking contradiction. I'm not doing it." You were extra firm in your last sentence.

"Whatever. I think it's about quitting time for you today anyway, y/n." he said, grabbing his phone back from you.

"Look, I'm sorry for yelling at you. But you have to admit that I'm right. That's not a way to treat someone. I shouldn't have done it before, but you're my boss and I guess at the time I just wanted to please you."

He nodded, taking a breath and a moment to reflect, "Yeah, well, I'm glad to have you to call me out on my bullshit." He then tapped your arm with his hand. "Okay, get out of here, kid."

You frowned, "Did you just call me 'kid'?"

"Yeah, what?" he frowned right back at you. The mood was lighter now.

"I'm only like a year and a half younger than you, old man, don't call me a kid." you joked, gathering up your things to leave. You liked the playful banter you and he shared sometimes.

"Fine, don't call me an ‘old man’ then." he chuckled. He followed you to the front door as you slung your purse over your shoulder.

“Well, goodnight, boss.” you said, facing him one last time after to opened the door.

He held the door, his arm resting above your head. “Okay, goodnight.” he smiled softly. “Drive safe.” he said simply, then leaned in to leave a peck on your cheek.

Your heart skipped a beat, you felt your cheeks flood pink immediately. The tiny spot that his lips had touched was inflamed. You didn’t know what else to do, so you stood there smiling like an idiot.

Timmy closed his eyes, shaking his head and pressing his lips together, “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that. I really don’t.” he was clearly embarrassed; he took about a half step backward. “Let’s just forget about that, okay?” he smiled innocently.

“Yeah, it’s okay.” you shrugged, putting your arms behind your back. “It didn’t bother me anyway.”

He grinned, “Good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep, definitely. Don’t forget to read over that speech. You’re running out of time before the awards.”

He mock rolled his eyes, letting his head hang down in annoyance, not at you, but the awards. “Okay.” he whined.

“Bye Timmy.” you giggled, then walked out the door. You weren't sure why he was dreading the Golden Globes so badly.

January 7, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[rweoutofthewoods]

Hi Mere I don't want to imply anything but I'm worried that your new relationship stopped helping you be creative and put out updates. Is your fiance not letting you write? I'm concerned about you.

Look, i appreciate your concern and I’m sure you have good intentions but let me set you straight.

I met my fiancé through writing. we used to write together every single night. They’ve been nothing but my biggest fan, my biggest supporter, the person I can turn to for honest and kind feedback. When I was writing Youngblood and I wrote a chapter I absolutely HATED it was them who encouraged me to rework it into something I was proud of and who didn’t let me give up and just hate myself for it.

And when I said I wanted to stop writing for a while let me tell you there was a big silence and they gave me a look of horror and asked if I was okay because YEAH, it’s very unlike me.

But first I want to say, that just because you guys have known about my relationship for a little while doesn’t mean that’s as long as it’s existed. I was happily in this relationship when I was pumping out 3 chaps a week, and I’m happily in it now that I’m posting 0.

The honest truth is I’m burnt the fuck out. I don’t want to write because I have zero interest in it right now. It doesn’t make me happy, I’m not motivated or burning to do it like I used to be. I wrote nonstop through my last two years of college, through graduating, through working a terrible food service job post grad, living in constant dread of what came next. I’m just burnt out. I’ve been pumping out jegulus nonstop since 2022, ofc I was going to lose steam and move away from it eventually.

Im just busy and tired! I’m moving in a few months, I have a full time job now, I go to work at 8am and come home at 5 or 6 and I don’t want to write. I want to spend time with my family or my friends or my fiancé. In December I worked for 17 days straight without a day off, I needed a break! And when I want comfort and happiness I don’t have to turn to writing to find it.

I’m mentally at the best I have been in a very long time, and I don’t need to write like someone has a gun to my head to cope anymore. I had a very unhealthy and obsessive relationship with writing. And I always joked when people asked how I wrote so much that it was mental illness. But it wasn’t really a joke, I was unwell and coping with fanfic. So while I’m sure some of you may be sad to see my writing slow, I hope you’re happy for me because it’s a good thing!! I want to heal my relationship with writing and I want it to be something I simply do for fun, not something to fill some hole inside of me.

So while I’m sure you mean well, I just want to remind you guys that you see a very small piece of my life and my relationship. So I’d appreciate not making assumptions 🩷

[thefandomsfervent]

What’s your secret to being able to stick to writing the same fic for so long? 🙏🏻🙏🏻 The second a fic that I’m writing gets over like… 1k words my brain is like “I don’t like this anymore”. It’s a curse 🥲

The joke answer is just be obsessed.

But the real answer is that you have to find a process that works for you! It is different for everyone, and I am by no means an expert. So take my advice with a grain of salt. Below are some tips ♡

Don't wait for the "right" writing moment: just write when it strikes. I have so many crumpled napkins from shifts at work and random notes in my phone.

Plan it out: I only do this if I'm really stuck on a portion. Usually I write train of thought and clean it up, check for timeline inconsistencies, etc. If I'm just starting a fic or need help fleshing out a portion I'll make a bullet point list of what I want to have happen next and then fill out pieces inbetween. Eventually something clicks and I'll start tapping away until a chapter is done.

Change how you write: if you prefer to type, try physically writing and vice versa

Support: publishing your work or sharing it with friends can help! It doesn't have to be beta read but just knowing people are reading it in any capacity helps me stay motivated. (Also makes me double check my work even when I don't feel like it lol)

Most importantly! It is fanfiction! We do not get paid to do this (unless you're lucky enough to get commissions) just enjoy it. It doesn't have to be perfect or have everything make sense. Write what you'd like to read. Write what you'd like to enjoy ♡

Thank you for reading my stuff and reaching out. I hope it was helpful ♡

[deezee112]

The worst ending 11 : The Last Shrimp

The worst ending 10 | The worst ending 12

Yandere!Floyd Leech x GN!Reader

A/N : Thank you for following this series to the eleventh episode! I would like to thank everyone who has been following along. Even though I've finished writing Dakar quite a few times, there are still people who like me...Thank you very much everyone!!

I would like to say that this is the first time I have come this far. Thank you to everyone who has followed me. Even though my writing is bad, you still like it. Thank you very much! ( I confess that I'm starting to run out of ideas for a title and ending. Some of the content may be similar to previous episodes. )

Warning : This story contains themes of obsessive love , manipulation , and violence. It explores the darker side of relationships , including emotional manipulation and physical harm.

Tags:

@iris-arcadia

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

The day you brought him home, he was silent. Completely and utterly quiet. Not a word, not a sound, just an intense, unreadable stare. You wasn’t sure what to make of it.

His pale hair shimmered in the dim light of your apartment, and his long, lanky limbs folded awkwardly as he sat on your couch. There was a wildness about him, even in his stillness, like an unpredictable wave waiting to crash.

" Well. " you muttered, breaking the silence, " I can’t just keep calling you ‘hey, you.’ You need a name. "

He tilted his head slightly at that, his mismatched eyes narrowing, but still, he said nothing.

" Let’s see… You’re unpredictable. Definitely a handful, I can tell that already. " you said, pacing the room. " But there’s something kind of playful about you, too. Mischievous, even. "

You paused, staring at him for a long moment before snapping you fingers. " I’ve got it! Floyd. That’s what I’ll call you. "

For the first time, his lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. It wasn’t warm or comforting—it was sharp, almost predatory.

" Yeah " you said, nodding. " Floyd. "

He didn't do much, but the way his smile lingered sent a chill down you spine.

Raising Floyd was…an experience. He was unpredictable, just as your suspected, but there was also an odd charm to him. He had a habit of calling you strange nicknames, most of which you tried ( and failed ) to correct.

One afternoon, as you was sorting through groceries in the kitchen, Floyd came up behind you, draping his lanky frame over your shoulders. ( It doesn't matter if you are taller or shorter than him. )

" Shrimp~ " he drawled, his voice low and sing-songy.

You groaned, shrugging him off. " I’ve told you a thousand times stop calling me that! I’m not a shrimp! "

" Okay. " he said, stepping back with a smirk. " I won’t call you shrimp anymore. "

" Good. " you said, returning to you task.

" I’ll call you big shrimp instead! "

You froze, turning slowly to face him.

" Big shrimp? " you repeated, deadpan.

" Yup! " he said cheerfully, his grin stretching wide.

You stared at him for a long moment before sighing. " You’re impossible. "

He just laughed, clearly pleased with himself

Despite his teasing nature, Floyd had his moments of sweetness—moments that almost made you forget how unnerving he could be.

One night, after you had an exhausting day at work, you came home to find Floyd sprawled on the couch, flipping lazily through a book. He looked up as you entered, his expression lighting up.

" Big shrimp’s back! " he declared, throwing the book aside and bounding over to you.

" Floyd, I swear— "

Before you could finish, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to the couch, forcing you to sit down.

" You look tired. " he said, his tone uncharacteristically soft. " You shouldn’t work so hard. It’s bad for you. "

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden concern. " I’m fine, really. Just a long day. "

" Hmph. " he muttered, crossing his arms. " If anyone at work is giving you trouble, tell me. I’ll take care of it. "

You laughed nervously. " Uh, thanks, but I think I’ll manage. "

Floyd didn’t respond, but the glint in his eyes sent a shiver down you spine.

As Floyd grew older, his playful nature took on a darker edge. His teasing became more intense, his moods more erratic. He would oscillate between clinging to you like a lost puppy and withdrawing into himself, his gaze turning cold and unreadable.

One evening, as you were eating dinner, Floyd stared at you intently, his fork hovering mid-air.

“ Why do you always look at me like that? ” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“ Like what? ” he replied, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

“ Like you’re…studying me. ”

Floyd’s lips curled into a smile. “ Maybe I am. ”

You laughed nervously, brushing off his comment as one of his usual jokes. But the way he continued to watch you sent a shiver down your spine.

The day started like any other. you had planned a quiet evening at home, but Floyd had other ideas.

“ Let’s go for a walk. ” he suggested, practically dragging you out the door before you could protest.

They wandered through the streets aimlessly, Floyd’s energy as erratic as ever. He would dart ahead, then circle back to walk beside you, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

“ Floyd, slow down. ” you said, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“ But I’m excited! ” he replied, grinning.

Eventually, you found themselves near a park. Floyd led you to a secluded spot by the water, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a quiet intensity.

“ Shrimp. ” he said suddenly, his voice unusually soft. “ Do you ever think about what it would be like to…stay like this forever? ”

You frowned, confused by the shift in his tone. “ What do you mean? ”

“ Just us. ” he said, stepping closer. “ No one else. No interruptions. ”

“ Floyd, you’re being weird. ” you said with a nervous laugh, taking a step back.

His grin returned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “ Am I? Or maybe I’m just finally being honest. ”

As the conversation continued, Floyd’s demeanor grew more erratic. His playful teasing gave way to something darker, more desperate.

“ Why do you always try to run away from me? ” he asked, his voice rising.

“ I’m not running away. ” you replied, your heart pounding. “ You’re just…you’re scaring me. ”

“ Scaring you? ” Floyd echoed, his grin twisting into something almost feral. “ I would never hurt you, Shrimp. You know that, right? ”

Before you could respond, Floyd lunged, grabbing you arm with a strength that took you breath away.

“ Floyd, let go! ” you screamed, struggling against his grip.

But he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled your closer, his mismatched eyes locking onto hers.

“ You don’t get it, do you? ” he whispered. “ You’re mine, Shrimp. You’ve always been mine. ”

In a burst of panic, you shoved him away and tried to run, but Floyd was faster. He grabbed you again, his grip like iron. They were near the edge of the water now, the dark surface reflecting the chaos in his eyes.

“ Floyd, please.... ” you begged, tears streaming down your face. “ You don’t have to do this. ”

But Floyd didn’t seem to hear you. In his desperation to keep you close, his movements grew more erratic. Before either of them realized what was happening, theystumbled, and you foot slipped on the muddy bank.

You fell into the water, you body vanishing beneath the surface with a splash.

For a moment, Floyd stood frozen, staring at the ripples where you had disappeared. Then, with a strangled cry, he dove in after you.

When he pulled you lifeless body from the water, he cradled you in his arms, his usually vibrant energy replaced by a hollow silence.

“ I didn’t mean to... ” he whispered, over and over, his voice breaking. “ I just wanted you to stay... ”

Floyd stayed there for hours, holding your cold body as the sun set and the world grew dark around him.

In the days that followed, Floyd’s usual exuberance was gone. He spent his time in the spot where you had fallen, talking to the water as if you could hear him.

“ Shrimp. ” he murmured one evening, a sad smile playing on his lips. “ You always said you hated that name. But now, it’s all I have left of you. ”

Despite his sorrow, Floyd’s obsession with you never waned. In his mind, you was still with him, you presence woven into every aspect of his life.

And though the world moved on, Floyd remained trapped in his own twisted version of love a love that had consumed you both

[suckerforcate]

Hi! Love love love your writing. Really wanna request kate stewart/reader with soulmate storyline. Thank you 💕

Soulmate

Pairing: Kate Lethbridge-Stewart x Reader

Word Count: 2,3 k

Warning: none?, pinch of Angst maybe, sort of age gap

Summary: Soulmark AU // Kate and you are Soulmates but for some reason she doesn't acknowledge it. At all. You confront her.

A/n: This took me forever, I'm so sorry. My life went upside down. And then I just didn't know what to do with the story so it might feel a bit wobbly at times and the end feels kind of rushed. Lots of love.

■----------------------------------------■

You had suspected it for some time, but didn't have any proper evidence.

The concept of soulmates - two souls connected and always meant to be together, like they'd been parted at birth and needed to find each other again - had always been a bit vague and unrealistic to you. The thought was comforting though. The idea that no one was meant to be alone. Everyone on this earth should eventually find their other half.

And yet you hadn't. Sure, they could be anywhere from Iceland to South Africa, that did complicate things. But you tried to tell yourself that it wasn't important. Maybe you'd find them, and maybe you wouldn't.

As much as you tried to tell yourself it wasn't important, your eyes wandered to the bare space on your right wrist often. And one day you looked there, and it wasn't bare anymore. The skin there was graced by soft, thin colourful lines merging together to a delicate pattern. It looked a bit like an abstract flower. It was gorgeous.

You stared at it for what felt like hours every day, your mind reeling with endless possibilities. Who could it be? You touched what felt like millions of people every day. A handshake here, a quick hug there, a brush of a finger when paying at the shops. It could be anyone.

You didn't hide it, didn't make an effort to cover it up. The first time Kate had seen it there was this flash of...something in her eyes. Surprise? But she was good and covering it up and schooling her features. It was gone so quickly you thought you had imagined it.

After that she acted a bit suspiciously. She often looked at the pattern on your arm, eyes often lingering there. And her wrists were always covered. Always. They never had been before. She wore her sleeves rolled up religiously. Not anymore.

It took you a while to connect the dots. But it kind of made sense. Two souls parted at birth, waiting to be reunited. Kate and you just fit. It had always fit. It was just surprising how long it had taken you to find out. How was it possible to work with someone for such a long time and never touch skin to skin?

Whatever the circumstances and the path that had led you to this moment in time, this all-consuming, life altering second, you were there now. It's a bit funny. How one second can change your life forevermore. That tiny second in which Kate hadn't been pulled together perfectly like usual. That tiny second that her wrist was exposed for. That tiny, little second in which you saw the edges of that same delicate pattern that graced your wrist. It all fell into place. Everything made sense in a way you hadn't yet known anything could make sense.

But the second was over as quickly as it had come. Her wrist covered again, and the world went on, like nothing had happened. Like you hadn't just felt your heart skip and do a somersault. Maybe you had had a heart attack? What did a heart attack feel like?

To your disappointment the day went on as mundanely as possible. Time didn't care for you. Didn't care for your heart or for love.

It's hours later when a thought struck you. She must have known. She'd seen the markings on your wrist. You'd caught her staring at it. She'd known, and yet she hadn't spoken up. Why? You were sitting in the lab, alone, it was late already and everyone had gone home. You had wanted to work a bit more, but instead you stared at the wall opposite you and your mind was reeling, searching for possible explanations. You came up empty.

Was the thought of you so unappealing as her soulmate that she refused to acknowledge it? Didn't she like you at all? Wasn't she willing to at least try?

After an excruciatingly long time of thinking without any result you decided to just go and talk to Kate. Sure it was late, but Kate would definitely still be in her office. She always stayed late. Later than she should. Especially since her kids had moved out.

The halls of UNIT headquarters were only dimly lit, most rooms and offices empty. You took the lift up a few floors and stepped out. At the end of the hall, Kate’s office was undeniable still being used. Soft, warm light seeping out from under the closed door.

Right about now the nervousness hit, heart racing a bit quicker, hands sweating a bit. Hesitantly you knocked on the office door, right under the little name plate that so elegantly said 'Kate Lethbridge-Stewart'. She'd stopped hiding the Lethbridge some time ago.

It took a few seconds until her soft voice called out for you to come in. She sounded a bit tired and yet authoritative, always perfectly put together. You opened the door a bit, just a few inches to look inside, still a bit hesitant.

"Do you have a moment?" You asked carefully and shortly see something flicker over her face that was awfully close to panic. But as usual she schooled it in seconds, and you thought you might have just imagined it. She nods and puts her pen down. With a smile you stepped in completely, closing the door behind you.

You weren't entirely sure how to go about this, but really having made a plan beforehand. The whole decision of coming here was a bit sudden and without proper thought. You nibbled a bit in your lip, a nervous habit you had never been able to let go off. But then your eyes fall to her wrist, perfectly covered of course. "Show me your wrist." You suddenly heard yourself say, sounding much more confident and commanding than you felt.

Her eyes widened a bit comically, and she pulled her hands off the desk, hiding them and her wrists under the desk, out of your sight. "I’m not sure why I should do that." She answered. Did she really think she could still fool you?

"Kate, show me your wrist" You repeat a bit sterner now and approach her, slowly rounding the desk. She stubbornly kept her wrists hidden and shook her head. She looked like a petulant child and in any other situation you'd have found it cute.

A bit fed up with her behaviour you step closer and grab her wrist, she tries to pull away, but your grip is too tight. You push the blouse that's probably way too expensive to be justifiable away to reveal the mark. The same delicate pattern that graced your skin. The same colours, the same size. It made your breath catch and for a second you felt relieved, happy even. But then you remembered that she'd hidden it, despite knowing, and it makes the relief be swept away by dread and betrayal. You let her arm fall back into her lap and step back, body tensing up.

"Why? Why not tell me?" She doesn't answer, religiously avoiding your eyes. It makes you angry even more than hurt. Why was she acting like this? Why was she outright rejecting you?

"Kate, answer me." Again, your voice was a cold demand, leaving no space for arguing. Still, she didn't answer. "At least have the decency to look at me." You bit out, voice trembling with anger and disappointment now. She doesn't look at you though, still stubbornly looking everywhere but back at you.

"Is the thought of me being your soulmate so...repulsive?" You asked then, voice much less angry now and much more hurt.

She finally looked at you then, eyes practically snapping up and locking with yours. There was pain reflected in them and in her voice when she spoke. "No. Of course not." Your anger subsided a bit, because she looked almost afraid. "Then why? Why didn't you say anything?"

She looked away again, the pain mixing with shame for a few seconds before she composed herself again, schooling her features again. She looked a bit like this was some sort of diplomatic thing to simply agree upon. "I wanted to give you an out."

"An out?" You asked, confused now. What on earth was she talking about? What would you need that for? You eyed her curiously now, waiting for an answer, an explanation. She sighed softly, eyes slowly darting away from you again before stubbornly settling on your wrist, the delicate pattern and colours peeking out.

"This," she said motioning at her wrist and then at yours, "this is forever. Forever is a long time." She finally looked at you again, her eyes full of pain and regret, something else you couldn't quite decipherer. "That's the point, yes." You said a bit frustrated, patience slowly running out. You didn't see the problem at all and that in resolution seemed to frustrate her. Her slender hands settled in her lap again, the fidgeting there now the only sign of her uncertainty. Her face, yet again, perfectly schooled.

"You’re young, you can still build your life, make someone fall in love with you, have a family." She said reasonably, swallowing hard, her voice a lot more fragile despite the confidence and assurance she was trying to convey. You saw through it.

"They'll never be my soulmate. That's you. Only you" You replied. Kate laughed humourlessly at that, the sound cutting straight through you. "Soulmate. What a romantic idea. A silly, naive one. Love and a life isn't built on a piece of pretty coloured skin."

You blinked at her, not expecting such harsh words when normally Kate tried to encourage anything optimistic and full of hope, this, however, was rather cynical. The distance you had earlier brought between you two is now closed again. A bit gentler now, you lift her exposed wrist and put yours next to it. "This is real. It's not naive and it's not silly. It's just right. It's exactly what is meant to be." You said firmly, albeit not unkindly or harshly.

She tensed at the sudden contact for a moment, trying to resist you for a second, but then, resigned, she gives in and lets you. She looked at her skin next to yours, the colourful designs merging perfectly.

"I'm scared." She suddenly whispered, just the admission of such a weakness makes her close her eyes for a second, clearly ashamed of it. Kate Lethbridge-Stewart didn't admit weakness, and she certainly didn't show it. At least not at work. She was a warm and open person with her kids, not afraid to show emotions and vulnerabilities. But she was used to this mask of a fearless, composed leader, and she was fine with it.

"Why?" You asked gently, a bit surprised by her admission. It wasn't something you had expected, Kate to be afraid of anything. Your thumb absent mindedly rubbed circles over her wrist.

A soft shiver ran through her at the contact. Her skin was so smooth, the perfect contrast to the roughness of your own. Your eyes traced the patterns on her skin, the colourful and delicate shapes, your heart instinctively fluttering. Kate was silent for a long time, the ticking of a wall clock marking the passing of seconds, that felt like hours.

"Love is never simple. It's not a fairytale. It's messy and ugly at times, heartbreaking and devastating," as if remembering something from her past she suddenly looked at you again, pain and sadness in her eyes as she spoke in a whisper, "I don't want that for you.

To her surprise you smiled. Your free hand came up and cupped the side of her neck, the thumb gently rubbing over her jaw. "I want it all. The mess and the pain and the tears. All of it, if only it means I'll be with you."

It almost looked like she'd lose her composure for a second when you touched her like that. Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment it looked as if she might even cry. But she pulls herself together again. Slowly, shaking a bit, her hand came up to cover yours, holding it in place against the side of her neck. Your touch felt so warm and comforting. How had you managed to not touch for so long, when it felt so heavenly?

"That's right." You softly whispered, the smile still on your lips. "Nothing wrong with this." Gently your other hand came up as well, settling on the other side of her jaw. Your thumb ever so softly brushing over her lips. She almost trembled in your hands. The contact sent tingles down her body and she realised how much she had missed it. A gentle touch, skin on skin, the soft caress of another human.

Unable to withstand it any longer she closed her eyes and leaned into your touch a bit, feeling how a bit of the tension slipped out of her body for the first time in years. Without realising it tears were slipping down her cheeks, but you immediately caught them with your thumbs, brushing them away.

"This is so right. We're soulmates, Katie." You whispered tenderly, like a caress of her soul. "I'm yours and you're mine." An involuntary smile spread over Kate's lips at that and her eyes fluttered open. She swallowed hard, pulling herself back together and nodding slightly. "Alright." Her voice was a bit rough, and it made you shiver.

"Come here" You whispered at that, needing to feel her lips on yours now. She smiled a bit, a familiar glimmer of mischief back in her eyes and a few seconds later you captured her lips in a kiss. And it was right, like the Universe had meant for this. Which, it in fact had.

[nightlyrequiem]

miss requiem please please with a cherry on top make detective reader part 2?!?!???!?

Of course of course! For some reason this was so hard for me to write??? I don't know if I like how it turned out. Alikeness 1 and 2 will probably be getting a rewrite in the future...

First Part

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Gun Violence, Murder, Mild Violence

Alikeness II

"You and I are alike." 

Valeria's words leave you uneasy and disturbed. You should turn her in. You know her identity. But for some reason you just can't bring yourself to make it common knowledge. You tell yourself it's because she wouldn't face proper punishment through the legal system. Money talks.

Yes. That is why you can't tell anyone. You're immune to corruption. An archangel sent to cleanse this Earth of evil. The blood of the tainted only purifies you. Your only interaction with Valeria shook you. You stayed away. Only for the time being. Focusing your efforts on others that need exterminating. Bad people you can't prove are bad in the eyes of the law, but you know. You always know. It's a sixth sense. 

You stare down at the plastic wrapped body of a corrupt politician. Valeria's words ringing in your ears as you fill his grave with dirt. He was taking bribes from the cartel. He was actively trying to take away the rights of other people because of his greed and hatred. The plastic around his mouth slowly rises and falls. You had to do this.

You've been given a new case at work. They're looking for the person responsible for the murders of previous cases. They're looking for you. You're forced to stay silent while your collogues unknowingly call you all kinds of names. You're disheartened to hear that the general public thinks of you as a monster. You make them afraid.

You stay in late, acting as though you're looking into the murders of the previous cases when really, you're plotting your next move on Valeria. It's not safe at home anymore. You're too paranoid about her bugging your house. Even your office is starting to feel unsafe. During the day you eye your coworkers with distrust. One of them could very likely be working with Valeria.

You keep your head pressed to the wall. Eyes shut tightly so you can think.

'You and I are alike.'

Begrudgingly, you accept that the statement is true to an extent. Two sides of the same coin but where you are capable of doing bad things for good, she does bad things for selfish gain. You slowly move away from the wall. You can use that to your advantage. Think like Valeria to kill Valeria.

You're shoved to the ground with the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of your head. Valeria looks down at you with a blank expression.

"You were right." You say, looking up at her. The low lighting is giving you a headache.

"About?" Valeria raises a brow.

"Me. Us." You reply. "I'm too good for what I do and I am not appreciated. Why should I expend my energy fighting for people who think I'm a monster?"

Valeria stares you contemplatively. A glint in her eyes.

"Yes, why should you?" She hums. Valeria slowly walks towards you and crouches down to eye level.

"You told me to find you when I was ready to accept that." You say. Disturbed at the small part of you that's tempted to believe it.

You didn't get to work with her at first. Valeria is a distrustful person and for two weeks she kept you locked in a cage. Only after she began to let her guard down did she let you out. You started work guarding shipments. Feeling disgusted at how you were helping her. But you took your job seriously, even if you didn't agree with the tasks you were given, you still took it seriously. Telling yourself it's a necessary evil.

You pace the dock. Watching the dock workers sign off on the cargo and taking the bribe to keep quiet about it. A shot rings out and the worker falls to his knees. You and your companions dive for cover. Alarmed by the sudden and unexpected bullets flying through the air. Your only thought is to protect the cargo. Keep the cargo safe. Leaping up you make a run for the ship. Something wizzes past your face and slices your cheek. Warm blood trickles from the cut. Bullets rain behind you as you climb aboard. 

You swiftly run to the cargo hold. Pulling out your gun you sit silently. Waiting. Careful footsteps sound in the hall. Heavy combat boots against the floor. Your grip on your gun tightens. A man decked out in riot gear enters, rifle slowly panning over the room. You crouch low, hiding behind a large barrel.

You move out of sight. Keeping to the shadows. The man nudges the lid of another barrel, shining his light inside. Is he seeing alcohol or bags of cocaine? You sneak up behind you and cock your gun. The noise alerts the man, and he promptly swivels to face you, rifle pointed at your chest. He stiffens and says your name. You recognize his voice. You worked with him before. Familiarity means nothing to you. He lowers his weapon, but you keep yours pointed at him.

"Are you okay?" He asks. "You've been missing for weeks, we thought the cartel got you."

"It did." You say. Feeling a little regretful.

"... I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" He says softly, like he's trying to soothe a child.

You back up.

"One of us will be getting out of here, yes, but it won't be you." You reply.

"What are you talking about?" He says, his voice hardening. "Whatever they have over you, if you're scared, it doesn't matter, we can get you into a witness protection program."

You frown. "I can't let you leave because you will jeopardize the cartel and this shipment." You say. Something unpleasant crawls down your spine at the realization that you mean those words.

The man tightens his grip on his gun.

"You're here... willingly?" He asks hesitantly, sounding disappointed.

You remain stony faced. "I am." You nod.

He raises his gun, aiming for your chest. "Then I'm going to have to ask you to put your gun down and put your hands behind your head."

You slowly lower your gun and raise your hands, staring straight as him as you do so.

He circles around you and comes up from behind. You can hear his laboured breathing behind his mask. His gloved hand brushes your wrist and you swivel, grabbing his gun. He pulls the trigger, the shot sounding too loud in the cramped cargo hold. You hiss and wrench it away, stumbling. The force pushes him down and before he can stand and make himself an even bigger threat you fire into his chest blindly. Emptying the clip.

You realize that you're shaking. Your shoulders drop as you stare at what you've done. Shame and rationalization warring in your head. Hurried footsteps head towards the cargo hold and you hope it's not more of them. They stop and you feel the presence of people. You don't bother turning because whatever will happen, will happen.

"You protected the shipment." Valeria says. Sounding a little surprised. You were supposed to kill her. That was the whole point of seeking her out to join her cartel. Instead, you shot one of your own.

"That's what I'm supposed to do." You murmur. He isn't moving anymore. Are his eyes open or closed behind the helmet?

Valeria mutters something to the people beside her and they leave. She walks forward and puts her hands on your shoulders. Her face next to yours.

"I'm proud of you." She says. "Not everyone is capable of doing the right thing."

Her words comfort you somewhat. You wish it were her lying there instead. "hm."

"Your foot is bleeding." she tells you, grabbing you by the arm to lead you out of that room. "I'll patch that up for you."

[irradiatedsnakes]

MY OFFICIAL DAYSHIFT AT FREDDYS 2 REVIEW:

peter is here yay hi peter my friend peter who i'm soooo happy to seeeeee! yayayayayayayayay

so- dsaf1 was kind of nothing imo, overall, a couple funny bits and interesting in a "seeing where a creator i like has come from creatively" angle, but broadly just doesn't have much to talk about, i don't think. a liiiittle bit agonizing to play.

dsaf2, on the other hand, absolutely has meat on its bones, and overall was really enjoyable!

comedy-wise, i think it stumbled in some parts- a few bits go on Way longer than they need to (the whole candy cat thing, the inexplicable extended always sunny reference??, and the freddy space oddity bit was definitely funny but dragged on a bit) but there's a lot of stuff here that absolutely made me laugh out loud.

(a lot of those just being sprites of jack and dave in their stupid mascot suits, their weird little faces peeking out of the mouths really crack me up. great design on those two and especially on their expressions, they're very funny-lookin.)

while he doesn't have much to him that i find especially compelling, dave in general is a really funny character, absolutely helped along by his hilarious tts voice. the tts voices overall are really good

story- and writing-wise, dsaf2 has a lot more going for it and it definitely compelled me. i think the line-to-line writing when in the more storyful or emotional moments is preeeeeettty shaky. it doesn't tend to have a whole lot of character to it (and i want to avoid Excessive comparisons but like. especially when comparing to dialtown's writing, which is absolutely brimming with character. look at one-off characters like tango who show up for a tiny amount of time but still have so much individuality and charm to em for what i mean) and feels pretty utilitarian, more often than not. the written jokes also don't land a lot for me, but that's in large part owing to "it's not 2017 anymore".

(i think this game's visual humor was by far the most successful. the fucking cop, peter's Photoshop Skills and the image he made of his head on a real buff guy got me, and so did this frame of davetrap:)

but the broad emotional strokes definitely hit for me- all the stuff about the kennedys and their relationships, mainly, less so for like. fredbear and the dead children but yknow. but the stuff between jack and peter, and peter and caroline, i think that worked really well (and to a lesser extent, jack and the marionette, owing to knowing the spoiler about her identity). i suppose part of that is having already known peter as a character in dt and being really fond of him going in, but i think i'd have found it plenty compelling even if i hadn't.

the bits when jack and peter begin to actually connect, and little tidbits like peter hugging jack on his way out, that definitely got me. i was also expecting jack and peter's relationship to be a lot more adversarial- i was surprised by them really connecting like that in the good route, and i'm nothing if not an absolute sucker for a sibling relationship like that. i really like them!

also the picture on the wall of peter and bald peter. please look at it. please look at it

i'm interested to know more about jack as a character. for the most part, he does just kind of seem like. generic player character, in his dialogue, but there's parts where something interesting absolutely shines through (his immediately changing the topic after delving into peter's past for example). his change in demeanor and the purple text in the true evil route is also interesting.

one of the coolest parts, as mentioned before, is also just seeing this earlier work having already been a massive dialtown fan. there's a lot in the humor and the general style of stuff here that's like, you can really see how the writing got honed over time and eventually developed into what we see in dt today (and, hell, even comparing base dt and roger dlc you see some of that development), it's just a really neat process to watch happen! like seeing ONE's artstyle get better over the course of mob psycho 100, yknow?

(and some things here make me very grateful dt is purely a visual novel with no gameplay segements.......those fucking cake children..)

it's also fascinating seeing little tidbits that would become like, an Actual Thing in dt- jack's own narrator stands out the most to me there.

i've been told that dsaf3 is far and away the best of the trilogy, so i'm excited to get to it! (and ROGER!!!!!AHHHH) (ive also heard great things about jake in particular. excited to meet him!)

IN SUMMARY

MY OFFICIAL DAYSHIFT AT FREDDYS 1 REVIEW:

dsaf1 is a game you can play, absolutely. it has. characters, and dialogue, and most of all, gameplay. it has all of these things, for sure

i need steven to die.

[essektheylyss]

I am writing a thousand words of this wip a day and ONLY a thousand words of this wip a day, dammit. This year I will enforce some goddamn moderation if it kills me (and frankly, it might).

[thelaurenshippen]

HI HELLO DO YOU LIKE AUDIO DRAMAS, WOULD YOU LIKE TO MAKE YOUR OWN AUDIO DRAMA well do I have news for you

for quite some time, I have been working on putting every bit of practical information I have about making a podcast into some kind of readable resource and I'm very happy to say that, by george, I think I've done it.

that link will take you to our resource page which has links to a 35-page handbook that takes you through every step of podcast production (on our merch page, but you can download for zero dollars! do it!) and a direct download of a 15-page pdf about how I take an idea from development through scripting.

this is by no means the be-all-end-all definitive correct guide on how to make an audio drama. as I emphasize many times throughout, this is just how I do things, but it's a pretty thorough rundown of how I do things. if you've been too overwhelmed to start your own show, I sincerely hope this helps you!

[rubberduckyrye]

You ever see a post that you agree with and you wanna add on your own two cents but your brain is like "Hmmmm.... nah. I wanna watch House MD clips instead."

[illustrationismyhaven]

I agree with this wholeheartedly. I really think retconning the books and everything was the nail in the coffin.

I'm going to be using the books as an example because they are my favorite bits of Bendy content, possibly even more so than the games themselves.

Not only are they very well written (despite varying pacing in certain parts but that's just my opinion and doesn't bother me much) but they give us a good look into the world outside of the Machine. We learn more about the horrible things going on behind the scenes, about the characters relationships and interactions, and we learn more about the main antagonist himself, the Ink Demon. Just going on a quick Ink Demon tidbit, cause I love him to bits, but the first book (dctl) laid out his motivations almost perfectly. In Ink Machine, it was kind of hard to peice together what the Ink Demon's motivations were, especially if you didn't catch Tom or Joey's Audio logs. In Dctl it is set up to show us what, why and how he is the way he is. Dctl shows us more about Inky but also Boris as well. Not only does the story of Buddy/Boris show us how they found out a human soul is needed for a perfect recreation, but also shows the way it works when both the minds of the cartoon and human are tangled together, until one takes over entirely, like Buddy/Boris, or they stay fighting like Alice/Susie.

Then in TLO, we learn about how even if there's not a cartoon vessel, the ink can still infect someone, turning them into Lost One's. How they affect their emotions, making them aggressive and attacking anything, cowering in fear, or living in a pool of their own shame to the point they don't even bother moving anymore. There's more information about Tom and his relationship to the Machine.

I haven't re-read FtB yet, so I apologize if any details are incorrect.

I think FtB is kind of the weakest in the series, writing wise at least. This is mostly where the pacing issue was biggest for me, as well as the way some characters were written. That being said, it had a lot of stuff that was very important to the story. The glasses, for example, explain how Wilson was able to alter the Ink world in Dark Revival, how he was able to traverse between the Machine and Archgate Studios.

It is clear that the books are written with so much care for the world and characters. Each character has a moment to shine and I love that. I also get that same feeling of wonder and whimsy that the first game had. There's a lot answered, while we still have questions in the end. You're left wanting more. Retconning the books was one of the biggest mistakes TheMeatly and Mike could have made. I'm really glad a lot of us have chosen to still consider the books canon, because really, without them so much starts to fall apart.

I feel like Bendy as a franchise has lost a lot of it's whimsy over the years. Back then, batim had such an interesting and fun aesthetic, chapter 3 and 4 especially almost felt like a Tim Burton stopmotion film in some ways. We used to have merch of playsets and toy axes, shirts with fun ideas and jokes behind them. Hell, even the characters themselves - the batim ink demon design, how the jds employees were all treated by the devs, the ways they acted and spoke too. The game focused more on the spiritual while still featuring mechanical, steampunk-esque environments and themes in moderation.

Nowadays, our merch is bland, overpriced and low quality with nothing but "mature"/trendy designs. No creativity like we used to have and much fewer toys only of batdr characters so far. The ink demon was given a new design and the old one is made fun of for looking too "goofy" by the devs now and has a redesign (likely going to look nothing like him) waiting to be revealed already. Old characters are barely featured in game anymore and the new direction focuses on the sci-fi and mechanical themes while almost entirely scrapping the spiritual and religious ones. Hell, even the environment is more realistic and the stories are being made "darker" according to the devs.

Back then, Bendy used to have this whimsical charm. Sure, it wasn't too scary at least for me, but if given the chance it could've balanced the slightly unserious and silly ideas with the horror meant to scare you well. It just feels like the devs, especially Mike are ashamed of their original creation and are pushing the idea of "maturity" way too hard into the series in an attempt to leave it all behind. I like the idea of having serious and important stories and themes in Bendy !! I like the idea of being mature with the series, but to truly be mature it should know when it can be and should be sillier. To be mature is to know when to be serious and when to be fun, and Bendy as a series is acting like a teenager trying to look more grown up instead.

I wish we could go back to the days before batdr or at least bring them back.

[volivolition]

any updates about your fics?? :0

(pls don’t feel pressured to respond to this if you’re busy!!)

!! hello anon :3!! <333

ive been writing a specific part for Unstoppable Force, where volition and harry talking to each other. and oh holy shit this fucking conversation is like!!! YEAH it's in character and i know what to write, but it hurts so fucking bad to actually write it, help me hgkjg

while the volition and electrochemistry thing is the main plot, on the side there's also kim who just transferred precincts, and harry who has a crush on him. and the kim/harry parallels to volition/echem... "i'm putting up a front of reserved responsibility and i have to repress any emotion that could compromise my commitment to my duties." immovable object and "i feel like the worst kind of mess and i want to get better but i don't know if i deserve to be helped or loved because im a mess." unstoppable force :']

but VOLITION IS STILL A SKILL, SO HE'S ADVISING HARRY WITH THIS PERSPECTIVE. so when harry says "kim shouldn't like me, huh?" then volition (who is projecting himself and echem onto kim and harry's relationship) swallows and says, "you're right. kim shouldn't like you, and if he does, he feels like he's making a mistake. he probably wants - more than anything in the world - to stop feeling that way, and for you to stop feeling that way about him."

and harry (who is taking this literally because he doesn't know what's happening between voli and echem) sadly agrees "yeah. liking me will probably get in the way of his work. he shouldn't want to love me, that just... wouldn't make sense for him. im only making him worse."

BOYS. ITS A FEEDBACK LOOP. ITS AN ECHO CHAMBER. YOU'RE ONLY FUELING EACH OTHER'S ISSUES. STOP STOP STOP HGJKG

[onlyasimp4nobody]