#I don’t think I’d have a single problem left in the world if I got to experience that.

[libertys-lovers]

SO THE EPISODE WHERE KARA’S A BARTENDER?!?

I went back to it because I wanted an aesthetic shot of his bar.

I went there to look for COPPER

BUT I MADE IT OUT WITH PURE G O L D

LOOK AT HIS SILLY LIL POUT AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHDMELFKRLT

[deans-queen]

I Remember It🧣

Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Reader has been thinking a lot about her past relationship with Jensen, and she wishes things could have ended differently

Inspired by the Song All Too Well (Taylor’s Version) bold/italic text: song lyrics

Warnings: language, light smut, emotional vulnerability, sexual themes.

Reader’s POV

It’s been months, but I still think about him every single day. Jensen Ackles—my Jensen—was everything I wanted. Until he wasn’t. I never thought we’d fall apart like this, that I’d be left holding pieces of a love so strong it could shatter me. But now here I am, sitting in my quiet apartment, listening to “All Too Well (Taylor’s Version)” and staring at the old scarf I wore the day we met.

“I left my scarf there, and you’ve still got it in your drawer even now…”

The words of Taylor’s song hit me right where it hurts the most. God, it was so stupidly perfect, the way we’d fallen for each other. I can still remember the way his hands felt on my body, his touch slow and deliberate, the way his lips would trace along my neck. The way he’d make me feel like I was the center of his world. He’d whisper things in my ear, dirty words that would set me on fire, make me crave him even more.

“Y/N, baby, you drive me wild…” he’d say, his voice low and husky, right before he’d kiss me, deep and consuming, pulling me into a world where nothing else existed but us.

And I gave everything to him. I wanted to drown in him, in his love, his touch, his passion. But looking back, maybe that was the problem. I gave him too much of myself, and he took it without realizing just how fragile I was. How fragile we both were.

“You call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest.”

God, how that line hits me every time. He didn’t mean to break me, but he did. One night, after another fight, he just… walked away. He said we needed space, that we were moving too fast. But what he really meant was that I wasn’t enough to keep him grounded, to keep him here.

My heart still aches when I think about the last time we were together. We had one of those rare moments where everything was perfect again. We were tangled up in the sheets, my body pressed against his, our breaths heavy and shallow. He whispered my name in that deep, raspy voice, his fingers tracing my curves like he was memorizing every inch of me. I kissed him then, slowly, letting him know I wasn’t ready to let go, that I would always want more.

His lips were soft against mine, tasting like the whiskey we’d been drinking. He bit my bottom lip gently, making me moan into his mouth, and then he chuckled. That low, sexy sound that used to make me melt. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice dark, teasing, the way he always did when he knew he had me.

I did. God, I loved it. I loved every second of being with him.

But I knew in that moment that it was slipping away. Even as we touched, as we kissed and lost ourselves in the heat of the moment, I could feel it—the distance growing between us. The way he would pull back, emotionally, even as his hands pulled me closer physically.

“And maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up.” I whisper the words to myself, feeling the tears burn my eyes. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe I was too much for him, and he wasn’t ready for all I had to give.

I wish I could say it didn’t still hurt, but it does. Every time I close my eyes, I see him, smell him, taste him. I remember the way his breath would catch when I touched him, the way he’d look at me like I was his entire world. And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

I wipe my tears and grab the scarf, pulling it to my chest. It still smells like him, faintly, like leather and cologne. I wonder if he ever thinks about me, if he ever regrets walking away. Does he still have my scarf? Does he ever pull it out of the drawer and think about what we could have been?

Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it, I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.

The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again. Loving Jensen changed me, broke me in ways I never expected. But I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret loving him, even if it still hurts like hell.

I close my eyes and lean back against the couch, the scarf wrapped tightly around my fingers, remembering the love that was once ours. And even though I wish things had ended differently, I can’t help but smile through the tears, because for a moment, I had him. I had him all too well.

It’s been weeks since I last thought of Jensen. Or at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. But deep down, I knew I never really let him go. The pain has softened into a dull ache, but it’s still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

I’m curled up on the couch, sipping coffee, wearing his old flannel—yeah, I know, pathetic—when I hear a knock at the door. My heart skips a beat. I’m not expecting anyone, and for a split second, I think maybe it’s Victoria. But when I open the door, I nearly drop my mug.

It’s him. Jensen, standing there, looking exactly the way I remember him. His piercing green eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly, I’m transported back to all those moments we shared. The nights filled with whispered promises, stolen kisses, and passion that felt too big for either of us to handle.

“Y/N,” he breathes my name like a prayer, his voice low and strained. I can see the weight of everything hanging between us, the words unsaid, the pain we caused each other. “I—I know I don’t deserve to be here, but I had to see you.”

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself from the whirlwind of emotions rushing in. “Why now, Jensen? After everything, why are you here?”

He steps closer, his eyes filled with regret. “I messed up. I know I hurt you, and it’s taken me too damn long to admit that. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—about us.”

My throat tightens, and I struggle to hold back the tears. “You walked away, Jensen. You left me here, broken. And now you just show up and expect what? For me to forget all of that?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture that once made me weak in the knees. “I know I can’t undo the past. I wish I could. But I need you to know, I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Part of me wants to slam the door in his face, tell him to leave and never come back. But another part—the part that still loves him, still aches for him—won’t let me.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He takes another step toward me, close enough that I can smell his familiar scent—leather, whiskey, and something distinctly Jensen. “Let me prove it to you,” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “Please, Y/N. Let me show you that I’m not going anywhere this time.”

I can’t help but look away, my heart hammering in my chest. The memories of him are overwhelming—the good, the bad, all of it. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But then I feel his fingers gently touch my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze.

“I never should have left you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You were everything to me, and I was too scared to admit it. I was an idiot, and I didn’t deserve you then. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I do now, if you’ll give me the chance.”

His lips hover close to mine, and despite every defense I’ve built, I can feel myself leaning into him. “Jensen…” I whisper, my voice breaking.

He closes the distance between us, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that’s both desperate and familiar. The world fades away, and all I can feel is him—his hands in my hair, his body pressing against mine, the heat between us igniting instantly. It’s like no time has passed, like we’ve been waiting for this moment all along.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes against my lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands slide down my back, gripping me possessively as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine. I moan softly, giving in to the fire that’s been burning in me for him all this time.

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts. “I want you, Y/N. I always have. I never stopped wanting you. But it’s not just that. I need you. I need us.”

His words make me tremble, and I know I’m already too far gone to push him away. I’ve wanted this—wanted him—for so long. But I can’t let him break me again. I need to be sure.

“You hurt me, Jensen,” I whisper, my voice shaking as the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over. “You left me, and I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

He cups my face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I know, baby. I know. And I swear to you, I will never hurt you like that again. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes—it’s too much. My defenses crumble, and before I can stop myself, I’m kissing him again, hard and desperate, like I’ve been starving for him all this time. He responds with equal intensity, his hands roaming my body, pulling me against him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

We stumble backward into my apartment, lips never breaking contact, and I’m lost in him again. Lost in the heat, the passion, the love that never really faded.

As we collapse onto the couch, his body pressing me into the cushions, I know this time it’s different. This time, he’s here to stay. And maybe—just maybe—we can pick up the pieces of what we lost.

“And I remember it all too well…”, and so does he.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story! It’s been in my drafts FOREVER, and I’m so glad I finally got the chance to post it. And also if this song doesn’t make you cry then are you even human ??? 😭Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

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[phneltwrites]

Sunday Snippet

Still rolling around in some exes who are fake dating

Wilhelm’s eyes are lined red and his mouth is a single line, frozen, pale as a statue. Then he cracks open and Simon thinks, finally. He’s ready to fight. He’s ready to remember all of the reasons he should be angry instead of sad. “That’s—you—” Wilhelm presses both hands into his eyes, fingers just beneath the bone, skin indenting. Simon watches him struggle to breathe, in shaky, exhale in three chunks. The type of breathing that hurts, that leaves the throat raw and Simon’s tricked, trapped into echoing it, inhaling with Wilhelm, exhaling like he’s scraping the inside of his throat. Wilhelm takes his hands off his eyes and they’re open, trained on Simon with the vortex inside them. There’s no space for Simon to fall into them. “When you… I think… I feel…” he exhales. “That’s not fair. That’s not fair, Simon. I don’t know what… You’re the one who said it didn’t have to be me who did this job. I listened. And I know it’s stupid, that my life is stupid and my problems don’t count, but it’s my reality. I have to live this, and I’m trying, I’m trying to—not drag anyone down.” Simon wanted to stop him as soon as he started talking, little interruption noises forming and dying in the back of his throat, but Wilhelm isn’t stopping, lips red and shaking but the words are still coming out clear. “You wanted me out of your life, and I left, and then you invited me back in, so I’m here. What do you want from me?” He waits, expectant, mouth half open. Simon wanted him to stop, wanted the pause, but the words get stuck. Stay with me. “Just tell me what you want.”

Simon wants him not to go.

Wilhelm’s right. The only bonus he got from their breakup was not having to watch Wilhelm get destroyed by his position. A state that he ruined for himself by pushing his way back in. Now all he has is Wilhelm’s absence. Close, but not with him. If Wilhelm gets this, he won’t even have that. He could never have imagined a world where Wilhelm didn’t get crushed, got free, got better, and Simon doesn’t get to see it. 

That’s a future he can’t bear. 

He wraps his arms around Wilhelm’s neck and throws himself into a kiss. It’s their worst one so far. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed when Wilhelm’s lips are sadness swollen, but it’s the first one Simon has gone too hard for, too fast. His nose bumps Wilhelm’s cheek and his feet slip from leaning up and off-balance. He has to gentle it back. Wilhelm’s hands come up around Simon’s waist, his spine, holding him secure. After that, it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s been a while, but their bodies haven’t forgotten how to be together, yet. This is them, as they should be. Joy and rightness pop in his heart. He smiles a little, reckless with it, revelling in the way the curving of his lips changes the feel of Wilhelm’s. 

His hands wander, over Wilhelm’s shoulders, down to his shoulderblades, a familiar home for his fingers. Wilhelm shivers and then he gasps, tilting his head back and breaking the kiss. He steps away from Simon and Simon wobbles, his front going cold.

“I can’t, I can’t do this again,” Wilhelm says. His voice is strained. Bleak. “You know I’d give you anything, but you can’t ask me for this.”

Confused, Simon closes the gap. He reaches for Wilhelm’s hand, settles for his elbow when Wilhelm doesn’t reach back. “I mean it.” Maybe Wilhelm thinks this is a fleeting moment, a request for an evening—but it could never be that way between them. “We could be us.”

Wilhelm shudders. “For how long?” Simon’s heart thumps. This isn’t what he was expecting. He didn’t have a plan, but if he’d imagined it, then as soon as he kissed Wilhelm, Wilhelm would kiss him back and that would be it. “I’m just as fucked up as I was and sooner or later I won’t be able to hide it, and then you’ll—” he swallows. “And it’ll be my fault, but I can’t survive it. Not again.” After everything, this is what makes Wilhelm cry.

[tavolgisvist]

'So there's a story...'

I'll buy you a diamond ring, my friend If it makes you feel alright I'll get you anything, my friend If it makes you feel alright 'Cause I don't care too much for money Money can't buy me love <…> I'll give you all I've got to give If you say you love me, too I may not have a lot to give But what I got, I'll give to you <…> Say you don't need no diamond rings And I'll be satisfied Tell me that you want the kind of things That money just can't buy I don't care too much for money Money can't buy me love

(Can't Buy Me Love, Jan/March 1964, A Hard Day’s Night)

… Baby says she's mine, you know She tells me all the time, you know She said so I'm in love with her and I feel fine I'm so glad that she's my little girl She's so glad, she's telling all the world That her baby buys her things, you know He buys her diamond rings, you know She said so She's in love with me and I feel fine

(I Feel Fine, Oct 1964, single I Feel Fine/She's A Woman)

Asked a girl what she wanted to be She said, "Baby, can't you see? I wanna be famous, a star of the screen But you can do something in between" <…> I told that girl that my prospects were good And she said, "Baby, it's understood Working for peanuts is all very fine But I can show you a better time" "Baby, you can drive my car Yes, I'm gonna be a star Baby, you can drive my car And maybe I'll love you" Beep-beep'm-beep-beep, yeah …

(Drive My Car, Oct 1965, Rubber Soul)

I started working at a coil-winding factory called Massey and Coggins. My dad had told me to go out and get a job. I’d said, ‘I’ve got a job, I’m in a band.’ But after a couple of weeks of doing nothing with the band it was, ‘No, you have got to get a proper job.’ He virtually chucked me out of the house: ‘Get a job or don’t come back.’ So I went to the employment office and said, ‘Can I have a job? Just give me anything.’ I said, ‘I’ll have whatever is on the top of that little pile there.’ And the first job was sweeping the yard at Massey and Coggins. I took it. I went there and the personnel officer said, ‘We can’t have you sweeping the yard, you’re management material.’ And they started to train me from the shop floor up with that in mind. <…> One day John and George showed up in the yard that I should have been sweeping and told me we had a gig at the Cavern. I said, ‘No. I’ve got a steady job here and it pays £7 14s a week. They are training me here. That’s pretty good, I can’t expect more. And I was quite serious about this.

(Paul McCartney, The Beatles Anthology)

But Paul would always give in to his dad. His dad told him to get a job, he dropped the group and started working on the fucking lorries, saying, 'I need a steady career.' We couldn't believe it. Once he rang up and said he'd got this job and couldn't come to the group. So I told him on the phone, 'Either come or you're out.' So he had to make a decision between me and his dad then, and in the end he chose me.

(John Lennon, Yoko Ono, St. Regis Hotel, New York, September 5th, 1971, interview with Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld)

I’d brought a version of it [‘Golden Rings’] out to John’s house in Weybridge, and we stalled when we got to the lines ‘You can buy me golden rings / Get me all that kind of thing’. We kept singing that over and over and couldn’t get beyond it because it was so shockingly bad. Part of the problem was that we’d already had ‘a diamond ring’ in ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’. ‘Golden rings’ was unoriginal and uninspiring. We couldn’t get past it. So we left it, went and had a cup of tea. When we came back, we started thinking of the woman as an LA girl. That improved things a bit. Then she wanted a chauffeur. <…> Once you get into creating a narrative and storytelling, it’s so much more entertaining. It draws you forward so much more easily. Now we were dramatising the interviewing of a chauffeur; we got over that dry moment and finished the song. It became one that didn’t get away. And its success had to do with getting rid of ‘golden rings’ and heading to ‘Baby, you can drive my car’. I know there’s a theory that rock and roll couldn’t have existed without the guitars of Leo Fender, but it probably couldn’t have existed without Henry Ford either. I’m thinking of the relationship between the motorcar and what happens in the back seat. We know that people shagged before the motorcar, but the motorcar gave the erotic a whole new lease on life. Think of Chuck Berry ‘riding along in my automobile’. Chuck is one of America’s great poets. ‘Beep beep, beep beep, yeah’. There you go. It was always good to get nonsense lyrics in, and this song lent itself to ‘Beep beep, beep beep, yeah’…

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics, about 'Drive My Car')

*Paul means Berry's No Particular Place to Go:

Ridin' along in my automobile My baby beside me at the wheel I stole a kiss at the turn of a mile My curiosity runnin' wild Cruisin' and playin' the radio With no particular place to go

etc

for @m1ssunderstanding because

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 10

i can't abandon them.

we don't sacrifice one life for the greater good if we don't have to.

you’re obviously hiding something from me, and it’s making me feel crazy.

i was sober enough to know better.

i’m sorry if i was shitty earlier today.

whenever i’m happy, everyone sounds the alarm.

the more people i cut out, the quieter my life got.

i love you, but i don’t have time for this.

i’ve never felt this helpless in my life.

you asked me before if i was happy, and i realized, i’m not. i’m not happy.

we both know if you’re shopping for an affair, i’m the first call you’d make.

you two are a powder keg ready to explode. 

i guess i’m scared that i don’t have what it takes to not fuck this up. 

you could do this without me.

it’s about winning. and i do. a lot.

when i’m with you, i want a future.

are you asking me to choose between you and my family?

i believe in solving problems. not whining about them.

what’s more important? your dreams or your pride? you only get one.

you don’t suck as much as most people.

your purpose is to live for you.

okay, that move? putting up walls? that used to be my move.

i think you’re just addicted to the drama of being miserable.

spoiler alert. life is meaningless.

wow, we really are bad people to date.

if you let me save your life, you’d be saving mine.

i’m an expert on self punishment.

it is me. i am standing with you. just please let me in.

just leave me alone with my humiliation.

“i’ll be happy when we can be together,” that’s what i always told myself. but what if we can’t be?

what if all we have is now?

you know more than anyone that the game isn’t over until it’s over.

you’re not the worst thing you’ve ever done.

i wouldn’t even want to do it without you. you make me better at this.

you love taking care of people.

i was worried. i came to check in on you. is that allowed?

don’t you dare ignore me. i have feelings!

if you’re always a disappointment, then it’s impossible to disappoint. 

what if i just, like, completely melt? what if i just fuck up and fail?

do i have time to go outside and scream “fuck”?

i can take what comes next.

contrary to popular belief, you’re not a total waste of space.

you have a future. don’t throw it away.  

every single cell in your body wants to blow things up and see what happens, that's what you are.

chivalry may be dead, but i didn’t kill it.

nothing is final. not even death.

that’s your family portrait, and you’re not in it.

life will crush your dreams and destroy your spirit.

why do i always let my heart get in the way of my happiness?

blowing up relationships seemed easier than having to lose people over and over again.

i had a dream. i was by your side, and it felt like we were changing the world.

i have to know what something is to believe in it.

there’s no one i’d rather walk through the fire with than you.

you think it’s the end? or the beginning? 

praying helps with some things. others, you have to take into your own hands.

i need us to be “us” again.

don’t think about what could go wrong. think about what could go right.

i’m just seeing things differently now.

i’ve done a terrible job of loving you when you’re in trouble.

you deserve the room to screw up.

i spent so much time trying not to be who i was, i don’t even know who i am.

you’re not okay. you’re stubborn.

i should have known better. i should have been better.

this place, it’s not you. it’s who you had to be to get to what’s next.

risking your life comes easy to your crazy ass.

i guess i’m just your fantasy.

you look like hell spit you out.

careful. i’ve had enough people coming for me today.

you look like shit.

sometimes we gotta let the people we love figure out their problems their own way.

it doesn’t make you any stronger going through this alone.

just be patient with me.

you’re something else. when you believe in something, nothing’s gonna change your mind.

don’t let love make you out to be a fool. leave before you’re left.

nostalgia’s got me in its vice.

what’s left of your soul will melt your poisonous heart.

i came to save your life. i wasn’t about to let you die a hero.

i’m barely living.

yeah. our timing is shit.

do you want chaos?

i’m sorry you’re afraid of being alone.

why should i trust you today, when things are shit, if i couldn’t trust you yesterday?

your now is not your forever.

[softtdaisy]

NEVER FORGOTTEN - SPENCER REID

DESCRIPTION I Spencer misses you. Spencer hates you. But Spencer will save you, even after you broke his heart.

PAIRING I Spencer Reid x fem!reader

WORD COUNT I 2,3k

A/N I Apparently my Spencer obsession is back stronger than ever so I finally decided to write for my baby. I hope you will love this one!

There wasn’t a day Spencer Reid wasn’t thinking about you.

Everything at the BAU reminding him of you.

When he sat at this deck, he would remember how you would be sitting at your own right in front of him. Anytime he was looking up, you would be there. Sometimes you would smile even if you didn’t look up. You could feel his look and gave him comfort naturally.

When he was picking up his coffee, he would remember how you were always offering him one. There wasn’t a time when you took one that you didn’t bring him one too. It was so obvious from your first day, it lasted until you left.

When he was with team, talking about the new case, he would remember how you would sit next to him. And how you used to put a hand on his arm or thigh because of the atrocity of the case. He hated physical contact. But he loved knowing you find comfort just by touching him.

It was even worse at home. He wished he could find a way to erase all his memories so he would think about your presence in every single corner of his apartment. He could feel you everywhere. But you weren’t there anymore.

You and Spencer weren’t technically dating. Being members of the same team, you knew it would only cause problems to be a couple. And you knew how Hotch felt about love in the team.

But it was too difficult to stay apart. From the first day at the BAU, you found comfort in each other. Maybe it was the way he could explain everything in the world, how he would talk nonstop when he got stressed and somehow it managed to calm yours, how he would smile at you anytime you looked at him. Maybe it was the way you were always listening to Spencer when anyone lost track, how you made him feel seen when the team was talking over him, how you made him love physical contact by holding his hand anytime he needed to.

So, you were seeing each other, a lot. You were driving him to work, eating together, spending time together, making love to each other. It became too obvious that the attraction was huge between you. And you both thought there was nothing wrong in having fun. With all the terrible things you were dealing with every single day, you needed love. And you were both ready to give it to each other.

You knew things started to get more difficult when you started to fall asleep in Spencer’s arms. You found the most comfort when you put your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeats, while he was caressing your back with his fingertips, telling you stories about historic people with a raspy voice after moaning so hard a few minutes before. You didn’t want to stop. But you knew you were getting used to it.

And one day, kissing and having sex were not enough anymore.

It was a Sunday afternoon. You stayed at Spencer’s appartement after spending the night with him. And you were working on the last case you got, since you to gave your report tomorrow morning. When Spencer showed up in front of him. You could tell he was anxious; with the way he was playing with his fingers. You looked up, frowning and met his distant eyes. “Yes, Spence?”

“I…would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

“I’d rather not.” You said with a low voice, almost too ashamed to speak your mind. You saw Spencer frowning, turning away before coming back to you. “Why?”

You sighed and got up. You already hated this conversation. “It’s not that I don’t want to Spence, I’d love to. But if we start having dates, we will get used to it. And after dates, it’s dating, and we know we can’t. I don’t want to get attached to you.”

“You’re not attached to me, right now?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” you grabbed his face between your hands. You hated that Spencer probably felt unloved right now. “I lo…like you more than I should, already. But we agreed that a relationship is not a good thing for us.”

You noticed the tears growing in his eyes and you wanted to punch yourself for making your favorite person sad. God, you hated that stupid situation. “We could make this work…”

“No, Spencer. You know why? Because if you’re in danger and…I don’t know, two members of the team are too. I would choose you. If they are three, I would choose you. If a whole family is in a danger, I would. Chose. You. Because I would never forgive myself for letting the boy that I love die. I can’t think properly if love is involved. If you’re involved!”

You said it. You didn’t even notice you said it. Not until Spencer’s eyes grew bigger.

It was too late.

You quickly walked away, leaving Spencer alone in his living room while you were getting dressed and collecting all your stuff. You had to leave. Now. If love was involved, everything was getting worse and you couldn’t risk either your career or Spencer’s for…such a stupid feeling.

When you left the bedroom, Spencer was still standing in the living room, confused. He looked at you, feeling your presence in his back. All you managed to say was sorry.

It was the last word you told him before leaving him.

Before leaving the BAU.

Before changing him.

When he understood you left for good, Spencer started to hate you. That was how he realized he loved you, first. He kept telling everyone that the team was better without you, anyway. He kept saying you were a bad person, and nobody should miss you. Which was ironic since you were the only person on his mind.

Spencer was confused between wanting to see you again, because he still had feelings for you. And never wanting to see you ever again. Because he hated you, too.

And life choose for him.

Spencer was late to the team meeting. He was breathless when he opened the door and kept apologizing until he finally sat. But he could feel everyone’s look on him. “Why you’re all looking at me like that?” he asked, frowning. Sure, he was never late. But everyone has been in the team so it shouldn’t be a mistake.

“Look, Spencer, you don’t have to be part of this case, we understand if…”

He heard the first words. He lost track when he saw your face on the screen. Your beautiful face he was used to see every single day. Those gorgeous eyes that were giving him so much comfort in the past. That amazing smile that was making him feel loved. All here, in front of him. Because you were missing.

After the BAU, you started working for another agency and from what everyone’s heard, you were good at your job. So good that apparently, someone wanted to make you pay. You’ve been missing for almost a week now. And for the first time in weeks, Spencer didn’t feel any hate towards you. He felt sad. Because he might have lost you for good.

It took the team hours and a sleepless night to finally find a lead on where you might be. You helped framed a criminal the past month and the sister’s seemed to hate you. Hate messages, pictured near your apartment…

And they were right.

Spencer asked to come alone. He wanted to deal with her by himself. If she was really the woman who wanted to kill you, then he wanted to be the one to arrest her. She opened the door a few seconds after he rang the bell. She looked young and broken. He couldn’t imagine the pain of losing her brother. But he could imagine the hate and the need to avenge him.

“I know you.” She said with a harsh voice. She probably noticed the confusion on his face. “When she took him, her phone turned on. She had on you as her lock screen. I can recognize a face immediately. You’re her boyfriend.” He hated how she was never using your name. Like you were just a her someone she hated so much that you didn’t deserve a name.

But he kept thinking to what she said. How could you have him as your lock screen? The case was only a month ago and you’ve been away for a year now. “Because I would never forgive myself for letting the boy that I love die.” You said the last time you saw him. The boy that I love. Maybe you were still loving him.

“How can you love such an awful person?” She told Spencer. He knew it was the perfect occasion to deal with that woman. If she hated you that much, he just had to let her believe he hated you just as much. Spencer you knew it.

He would find you.

“I don’t love her.” He simply said. Trying to be as neutral as possible. “She probably keeps on her phone to remind herself of what she lost.” The worst part was that it was probably the truth. He knew you. You loved torture yourself with those kinds of things. And you truly loved him, then you probably were angry with yourself for letting him go.

“She deserves to die.” It felt like a punch in the stomach for Spencer to hear that. No, she doesn’t, please don’t kill her. He wanted to say. But he couldn’t. So he bit his lips a single second before answering.

“Yes, she does.”

She invited him inside. Just like that. Because she believed a hateful ex-boyfriend was a good accomplice.

Thankfully, the team was outside and listening to everything that was going on.

He was ready to see you. But he could never have imagined he would find you like that. Tied to a chair, your hair being a mess and your face covered in bruised. You were in a bad shape. Have you been there the whole week? You still haven’t seen him. The woman walked to your back and held you by your hair, putting your face in the light and making Spencer want to throw up. “Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

He read the confusion your face, having no idea who she was talking to. Until Spencer took a few steps and appeared in your vision. “I still haven’t decided how and when I want to kill her, so if you want to settle accounts with her, it’s your time big boy.” She was standing there, waiting for Spencer to do something. But he couldn’t move. You looked so fragile like this. That wasn’t fair. That was…hell.

“Do you mind leaving us alone for a minute?” He used a serious tone, to make him sound more hateful that he was. All the hate he had, disappeared the moment he understood what was going on. The woman hesitated and he really thought she would be smart enough to refuse. But she walked to the door. “Let’s say two. I want to see her bleed.” She winked at him and he controlled himself to not punch her.

Once the door closed, he ran to you. “Oh my god [y/n], what happened?” he was looking for a way to cut the rope when you managed to rub your nose against his hair.

“Don’t put yourself in danger for me Spence…” your voice was weak. He couldn’t imagine the hell you’ve been through these past days. You were ready to let him punch you and leave so he wouldn’t have to suffer like you. You accepted your fate; he could see that in your eyes. And it was probably more hurtful than seeing you bruised like that.

“I won’t forgive myself for letting the girl that I love die, is that right?” He saw the sparks in your eyes when he said the word that broke everything between you the last time. “Now, let me work.” He gave you a simple kiss in the hair before finally cutting those ropes. He lost a lot of time doing this but his plan was going to work.

It had to.

When the woman came back, you weren’t in the chair anymore. And Spencer was nowhere to be seen. She only the had to scream before he put her on the floor. “I think I forgot to say that earlier, but I’m an FBI agent.” She tried to struggle but Spencer still managed to arrest her. And the team arrived just a few seconds after that. Meaning they could take care of her, while he took care of you.

You were hiding behind a wardrobe the whole time. When the team started to take her out, you finally went to Spencer. You didn’t ask for anything but ran to his arms and started to cry. “I kept thinking about, hoping you would come and find me, and I know I broke your heart last year so every time I started to get hopes, a voice in my head was telling me that you wouldn’t do that and…” Spencer stopped you when you took your head between his hands.

“Even if I hated you, I would never leave you.” He was brushing your bruised cheeks with his fingers. And like some kind of magic, or maybe it was the love he had for you, but the contact against your wound didn’t hurt. It even made you feel better. “I didn’t always have the best thoughts about you, but I never stopped thinking about you.”

Spencer wished he’d found a better way to have you back. He wished he had fought for you back then so you wouldn’t have lost a whole year. He wished he had found a way to make you stay, so you wouldn’t have been in danger.

He wished a lot of things. But his biggest one came true today.  Because you were back in his life.

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[gogz-ee]

My Wimbledon Champion (2)

Author’s note: this one is a little rushed so sorry for that😭

After that weird interaction with Carlos, he wouldn’t stop DMing you making sure you were still coming. Every single hour or so he would text you “Are you still coming?” or “You sure?” He couldn’t stop talking about it to you. You didn’t even know if you were friends at this point or just someone he decided to invite .

“Okay, you sure your coming?”

“YES CARLOS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME, IM COMING”

“Okay good.”

“And what would happen if I didn’t come?”

He just left you on read. The nerves of this man. A little later you sent him a picture of you in your dress to see if there was a theme of some sort and if it was fine.

“Is this good?”

Carlitossalcaraz saved an image.

“Did u just save the picture😭?”

“Whatttt noo…”

“Carlos..”

“I didn’t save it I swear!!”

“Does that mean my dress was okay?”

“Yes please wear it.”

“Little demanding but okay!”

“Your still coming righ-“ the second you saw that text you turned off your phone, that stupid phrase was starting to get on your nerves.

The sun was starting to set, and it was almost time to go. Instead of waiting for the right time to leave, you leave a little early. You wanted to talk to Carlos before anyone else got there. Again, it wasn’t too far so you decided to just walk there. When you entered you saw Carlos and his family there.

You didn’t want to bother them or be awkward so you try to find you way to the bathroom. Only a couple steps in and someone scares you from behind.

“Hey you made it!”

“WHA- Oh it’s you”

“Yeah you made i-“

As you turned around he was FLABBERGASTED. He liked your outfit and you knew it. “Wow.” he mumbles.

“Like it?”

He nods his head while his eyes are wide, lips apart still staring into the dress.

“Its- uh really nice!”

“Now im having second thoughts..”

“No your bea- Its beautiful I promise!”

“Whatever you say”

He leads you to your seat and its right next to his. Out of all these chairs, it had to be next to his, but you weren’t complaining. After that conversation you had with him, you started feeling something but it was way to early to clarify what it was.

Once all the guests arrived, Carlos left you all alone. He made sure to greet everyone politely to not seem rude. He talked to everyone for what seemed like hours and you couldn’t wait for him to finish and finally come back to you.

Seeing him like this being all polite and kind to everyone, shined a different light on him. The old arrogant and self-centered Carlos thought was slowly fading away and turning into some a little more than that…

Finally when he was done talking to everyone, it came your turn to finally have a talk.

“How’s the party?”

“It’s good I’ve been waiting for you to stop talking to everyone.”

“Oh sorry.. I didn’t mean to make you wait” he frowned, you stared at his frown and noticed how cute he is, (even though you noticed that long ago) it was still really cool to be able to talk to him like this and not like he was a celebrity.

“Sooo.. I was wondering how we would keep contact once I go back to Spain” the frown on his face still present but it seemed to get bigger.

“Keep contact? Does this mean were friends?”

“Yeah of course? Weren’t we always?”

“Okay.. I guess I became friends with the world number 2 in just a couple hours.”

“Im just a normal guy pleaseee don’t address me like that.”

“And also I live in Spain as well. I just came here to support Jannik”

His face instantly got serious at the mention of Jannik’s name. Sure they’re great friends, but since YOU were supporting Jannik instead of him, there was a slight problem.

Because he was so blinded by his name that everything started to become a blur.

“Hello? You good?”

“Yeah im fine”

“As I was saying I live in Spain as well so we could meet up sometime!”

His face lit up, almost like someone just brought a lightbulb and stuffed it in his face.

“Really?!”

“Yeah I mean I said that a couple times but I don’t think you were listening”

“I’d be more than happy to!”

“Alright well, i have a flight in the morning so im gonna leave okay?”

“Nooo wait.. stay with me a little longer”

You couldn’t tell if he was drunk or something. First he wasn’t listening to anything you were saying and now he’s being all clingy? You listened to him anyways and stayed for 30 more minutes before leaving to go to your room.

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 33

word count: 557

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

June 3, 1990

Dear Will,

Greetings from my new apartment! It’s a single bedroom, only a few miles away from campus. Even though my dad’s paying for the apartment, I figured I’d take at least some of the financial burden off of him by getting a job. I got an interview with a local coffee shop that I forgot the name of, and I’m slated to start next week.

Now that school’s out, I’ve been getting used to the concept of actual independence. I’ve never lived by myself before, not without my family or a roommate… or you. I think you’d like a few of my decor choices, and despise a few others. But fuck you, asshole, because you’re not even here to give your input. It’s not like I’d even want you here. I don’t need you. I’m living my best life. And if you want to know what I really mean by "best"… trust me, you don’t. So if you hear anything about me, it won’t be from the horse’s mouth.

I will, however, tell you that things went south with Elvis. I might have gotten blackout drunk and confessed my apparently romantic feelings for him. He moved out and we haven’t spoken since. I had expected to be a complete emotional wreck when Elvis left, but like… he wasn’t you. The pain was so little that I didn’t feel anything at all. And I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. I find myself contemplating that concept a lot these days. My decisions have not been… fantastic, as of late. For example, after I came to that realization that my appearance was comparable to that of fucking Gollum, I decided to make some changes. Well, one change, but it made a world of a difference.

You know how I said in my last letter that I usually need weed or alcohol to fall asleep? Well, my dumbass didn’t realize that mixing the two in large amounts like I had been was a recipe for disaster. The alcohol wasn't the problem; it was the weed in combination with the alcohol that made it impossible to hold anything down. So I cut out weed. And ever since then, I’ve felt so much better. I’ve been able to eat more, so I look more like a human again. I can concentrate better while writing, which is kind of a must, considering I spend a majority of my time writing The Wanderer or letters to you.

And yeah, cutting weed out means that I’ve had to drink more to compensate for the effect weed would’ve had on me in order to sleep, but I think I can handle it. I’ll be okay. I promise. Wow, look at me, making promises to a figment of my imagination. Makes me sound almost religious. Is this how Christians feel whenever they promise God they won’t sin, but then immediately go and fuck it up once they leave the confession booth? I don’t know where this letter is going anymore; I might’ve had a few shots of whiskey somewhere in between “So I cut out weed,” and “The Wanderer or letters to you,” so I’m kind of out of it now.

But please know that I’m trying my best to stay alive right now. At least I’m trying.

Love,

Mike

-

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[t0mcruize123]

Stuck with you

Last part🎀🫶

AGHHH THIS IS THE LAST PART OF STUCK WITH YOU I CANT BELIEVE I FINISHED IT ALREADY😭😭 I’ve loved writing this story the most it’s been my SLOWEST SLOW BURN but I’ve absolutely been ADDICTED to the plot and hot mini tropes🤭 ofc this entire story was written for the beautiful beautiful one and only @mqverick so yes, this is for HER AND HER ONLY🫵👹 IVE SAID IT BEFORE AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUV UR THE BEST AND DESERVE EVERY SINGLE TOM CRUISE SMUT FANFIC IN THE WORLD THIS ONE IS FOR U🫶💞

There was a knock at the door and I jumped to my feet, panic holding me rigid. After my argument with Charlie last night, I’d tried to find another hotel nearby but they’d all been too full or too far so I was still in the same one. I’d purchased another room on the other side of the building, but I knew he’d find me. Charlie could be persistent when he wanted to be.

“Hello?!” He banged his fist against the door, “I know you’re in there, let me in! I dont like how we left things yesterday, can we talk?!”

I sighed heavily and opened the door a few inches. Charlie’s palms were pressed flat against the doorframe and his eyes were red as though he hadn’t slept all night. Now I felt bad because he had a whole day of driving ahead but it was still deserved.

“You want to talk or yell?” His head snapped up at the sound of my voice.

“Talk,” he promised solemnly and pressed his lips into a thin line, “But I haven’t got long because Ray is on his own in the hotel room and I don’t trust him to be careful.”

I inhaled sharply and opened the hotel door. Charlie slowly brushed past me and my stomach fluttered at the small touch. I walked forward into the bedroom and he followed quietly behind me.

“I haven’t been sleeping all night, because I’ve been thinking about what you said…and you’re right. I mean you’re always right, but I never realised just how right until you weren’t there to remind me,” his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Ive been really shitty to you and Raymond and you’re such a good person, and I want to be the perfect person for you. You deserve someone better than me but…if you come with me to LA, I’ll spend the rest of my time trying to be that perfect person to you.”

I forgot how to breathe, “You’re ready for commitment?”

“The idea still terrifies me, I can’t lie- Ive got so much going on but you’re right. You’ve been so helpful and comfortable to be around, and I know we haven’t known each other for long but you’ve really impacted my life. That first night in the hotel, was the night I started to forget a life without you.”

He took a step forward and breath caught in my throat, “I wasn’t lying when I said I needed you. You keep me sane, you keep me anchored, and you remind me when I’m acting like a total dick and I love you for it. I love everything about you, your stubbornness, the way you smile when you think I’m not looking, the way you fit perfectly in my arms.”

His hand came up to hold the small of my back and I arched into his touch, “There’s only you. Even when I'm not with you, there's only you. Next time, just ask. You've never had a problem being bluntly honest with me. If we're going to do this, then we have to trust each other."

"And you want to do this?" I hold my breath.

He sighs, long and hard, then admits, "Yes." His hand slides up, and he caresses my cheek with his thumb. "I can't make you any promises, But I'm tired of fighting it."

"Yes." One word has never meant so much to me. Then I blink, remembering his previous comment about our first night together in that hotel, “You wanted me then?"

"I've wanted you from the first second I saw you,” he admits, “Even when you were screaming at me in the airport, the fierceness turned me on.”

I laughed quietly and he stroked my cheek with his thumb, “And if I was short with you yesterday... well, it's just a shit day and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

"I understand,” I nodded, imagining I was in his situation. His head tilted ever so slightly towards mine and I gestured to the bed, “Now sit.”

"What?" His eyebrows rise.

"Sit," I order, staring him down.

To my absolute surprise, he does as I ask, sitting on the side of his bed.

His long legs stretch out in front of him, and he leans back slightly on the heels of his hands. "Now what?"

I move between his thighs and run my fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and leans into my touch, and I swear, I feel my heart crack wide open. "Now I take care of you."

His eyes fly open and gods, are they beautiful. I've memorized every gold fleck in those green depths. Running my hands through his hair, I sink to my knees before him.

"You don’t-“

"I'm just taking off your boots." A smirk plays at my lips as I unlace one, then the other, taking them off.

His gaze locks on my skirt, heating every time the slit reveals a section of my thigh. "You've been wearing that all morning?"

"That's what you get for walking behind me," I tease, coming to stand between his thighs again.

"I can't really argue about the view from the back, either." He tilts his chin to look up at me.

"Be quiet and let me get this off you." I take off his jacket and his arms curled around my hips.

"I don't deserve you." he tugs me closer. "But I'm going to keep you all the same."

"Good." I lean in and brush my lips over his. "Because I think I'm in love with you." My heart beats erratically, and panic claws up my rib cage.

I shouldn't have said it.

His eyes flare wide and his arms tighten around me. "You think? Or you know?"

Be brave.

Even if he doesn't feel the same, at least I will have spoken my truth.

"I know. I'm so wildly in love with you that I can't imagine what my life would even look like without you in it. And I probably shouldn't have said that, but if we're doing this, then we're starting from a place of complete honesty."

He crushes his mouth to mine and pulls me fully into his lap so I'm straddling him. He kisses me so deep that I lose myself in it, in him. There are no words as he takes off my my shirt and unbuttons my skirt, all without breaking the kiss. "Stand," he says against my lips.

"Charlie.” My heart thunders.

"I fucking need you, Right now. And I don't need anyone, so I'm not quite sure how to handle this feeling, but I'm giving it my best. And if you don't want this today, that's fine, but I'm going to need you to walk out that door right now, because if you don't, I'm going to have you naked on your back in the next two minutes."

The intensity in his eyes and the vehemence of his words should frighten me, but they don't. Even if this man loses every ounce of his self-control, I know he'll never hurt me.

"Walk away or stay, but either way, I need you to stand up," he begs.

A smile curved at my lips, “I think two minutes might be overestimating your skills.”

He grins and lifts me from his lap.

My feet hit the floor. "I'm timing you."

"Is that_"

"One. Two." I hold up my fingers. "Three."

He's on his feet in a heartbeat, and then his mouth is on mine, and I stop counting. I'm too busy chasing the strokes of his tongue, feeling the ripple of his muscles beneath my fingertips, to give a shit where my clothes are going.

I feel air rush against my legs as my skirt hits the floor, leaving me in my underwear while I suck on his tongue.

He groans, Then his hands are in my hair, and he pulls back only long enough to rake his ravenous gaze down my body. "So fucking beautiful."

"I think that might have been a little longer than two-" I start, but he grabs the back of my thighs and lifts, sweeping my feet out from underneath me. My back hits the bed with a slight bounce, and honestly, I should have seen that move coming given that he's been putting me on my back for the better part of a year now.

"Still counting?" he asks, dropping to his knees beside the bed and pulling me up.

"Do you need me to keep score?" I tease as my ass hits the end of the bed.

"Feel free." He grins, and before I can get another word in, his mouth is between my thighs.

I suck in a sharp breath and throw my head back at the sheer pleasure of his tongue, licking and swirling around my clit. "Oh fuck."

He licks me from entrance to clit, finally flicking his tongue over that sensitive spot and I moan.

"Fuck, you taste good." He lifts my thighs up onto his shoulders and settles in like he has nowhere else to be tonight.

Then he absolutely devours me with tongue and teeth.

Pleasure, hot and insistent, spirals in my stomach and I'm lost in sensation, my hips rising and falling as I chase the high he drives me toward with every expert stab of his tongue.

My thighs tremble when he takes up a rhythm against my clit and drives two fingers inside me. They lock when he strokes his fingers in time with his tongue. Mindless, I'm simply mindless.

when he tips me over the edge of oblivion, it's his name I scream as that power whips outward with every wave of my climax.

"That's one," he says, kissing his way up my limp body. Moving his fingers out of me, he moves them to his lips and never once breaks eye contact. I suck in a deep breath as he licks his fingers clean, savouring my taste.

"Your mouth is..." I shake my head as his hands slide under me, moving us to the center of his bed. "There are no words for that."

"Delicious," he whispers, his lips skimming the plane of my stomach.

"You are absolutely delicious. I never should have waited this long to get my mouth on you."

I gasp when he sucks the peak of my breast into his mouth, his tongue lashing and stroking my nipple as he works the other between thumb and forefinger, setting a whole new fire within me built on the embers of the first.

By the time he gets to my neck, I'm a writhing flame beneath him, touching every part of him I can reach, stroking my hands down his arms, his back, his chest. Fuck, this man is incredible.

Our mouths meet in a deep kiss, and I can taste us both in it as I draw my knees upward, settling his hips right where they're meant to be- between my thighs.

he groans, and I can feel the head of him at my entrance. He shakes his head slowly and I smile.

"I don't get equal time to play?" I tease, arching my hips so he slides against me and making my own breath catch with the motion.

He nips my lower lip. "You can play all you want later if I can have you right now."

Yeah, that's a plan I can get with. "You already have me."

His gaze collides with mine as he hovers above me, bracing his weight to keep from crushing me. "You have everything I have to give."

That's enough...for now. I nod, arching my hips again.

Eyes locked with mine, he pushes into me with one long roll of his hips, consuming every inch and then taking another until he's i feel him everywhere.

The pressure, the stretch, the fit of him is beyond words.

"You feel so damn good." I roll my hips because I can't help myself.

"I could say the same thing about you." He smiles, using my own words from earlier against me. Hard, deep, and slow, he sets a rhythm that has me arching for every thrust as we come together again and again and again.

He drives us up the bed, and I throw my arms back, bracing against the headboard for leverage as I meet every plunge of his hips. God, each is better than the last. When I urge him to move faster, he gives me a wicked grin and takes me at the same mind-blowing, heart-jolting pace. "I want this to last. I need this to last."

"But I'm..." That fire in my core is coiled tight and so ready to burst free that I can almost taste how sweet it will be.

"I know." He drives forward again, and I whimper at how fucking good it feels. "Just stay with me." He adjusts the angle so he hits my clit with every thrust and presses my knee forward, taking me even deeper.

I'm not going to survive this. I'm going to die right here in this bed.

"Then I'm going to die with you," he promises, kissing me.

I'm so far gone, I didn't even realize I said the words out loud.

"More. I need more." Pleasure simmers beneath my skin and my legs lock.

"You're almost there. Fuck, you feel so damn good around me. I'm never going to get enough of this, enough of you.”

"I Love you." His eyes flare and his control snaps as he pounds into me, and that coiled pleasure explodes as he drives toward his own release, groaning into the side of my neck as the last waves of my orgasm leave me shuddering against him.

Long minutes pass before our breathing steadies, "You're all right?" he asks, brusting my hair back from my face.

"I'm great. You're great. That was-“

"Great?" he supplies.

"Exactly."

"I was going to use the word glorious but I think 'great covers it,”

His fingers tangle in my hair. "I fucking love your hair. If you ever want to bring me to my knees or win an argument, just let it down. I'll get the point." I grin as the breeze rustles through the brown strands.

My head turned to the side and I gasped at the broken desk to our left.

"What are we going to do?"

"Right now?" He strokes my hair back from my face again. "That was two, if we're still counting, and I say we clean up, move the desk out the way, and get you to three, maybe four if you're still awake."

My jaw drops. "After we broke the furniture?"

He smiles and shrugs. "I don’t care about the cost.”

I gaze down at his body, and the craving for him ignites again, "Yeah, let's go for three."

We're going for five, my hips in Charlie’s hands while I slowly ride him, and trail my fingers down the hard planes and muscles of his back. I'm not sure how either of us is still moving, and yet we can't seem to stop, can't get enough.

"It really is beautiful," I tell him, rising up only to sink back down again, taking him deep within me.

His dark eyes flare as his hands flex. "Oh yeah, you always wanted a man with a nice back, didn’t you?." He arches his hips, hitting me at a sublime angle.

"Mhm,” Fuck he's robbing me of every thought.

Someone pounds on the door.

"Go the fuck away!" Charlie yelled, reaching up my back and hooking onto my shoulder to pull me down into his next thrust.

I fall forward, muffling my moan in his neck.

"I really wish I could." There's enough regret in the voice that I believe it.

"Someone better be dead if I get out of this bed," Charlie retorts.

“It’s your brother, Raymond Babbitt?” The man called, “Nothing bad, we just found him wandering the hotel looking lost.”

Both Charlie and I startle, our gazes colliding in shock. I slide off him, and he covers me with his blanket before shoving his legs into his trousers and striding for the door.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Charlie swung open the door to see the hotel manager and Raymond standing there awkwardly.

“Charlie, Charlie Babbitt,” Ray mumbled quietly.

Charlie clapped his shoulder softly and I couldn’t help but grin.

~3 days later~

Charlie stared down at me with a mischievous smile, “Dance with me.”

I scoffed, “You don’t dance.”

“For you I will,” he offered me his hand and I looked down at it hesitantly, “Come on. You can’t come all this way to a wedding and not dance.”

I rolled my eyes playfully and accepted his hand. Keeping his eyes on me, he led us to the dance floor as though he knew exactly where to go and I sighed.

“This is so embarrassing,” I wrapped my arms around his neck and glanced to my right. My sister, dressed in her brilliant white gown, winked at me and I scrunched my nose back at her.

“Love isn’t embarrassing,” he murmured lowly and wrapped his arm around my waist. Our free hands came up to clasp each other and I smiled at the sight. The music slowed to a more romantic tune and we began to sway from side to side, never once breaking eye contact. I was wearing a red dress that accentuated my hips and hugged at my curves. Charlie kept reminding me how beautiful I looked though in all honesty, I was most excited for when he took it off me tonight. We’d made it to LA and we’re currently moving from hotel to hotel whilst we came up with a solid plan.

I looked at all the dressed up people around us and realised one person was missing, “I’m sorry about Ray.”

He shook his head fiercely, “You don’t have to be. Ray’s better off back at his institution, it never would’ve worked if he lived with me.”

I nodded, “Yeah…you did deserve a bit of the money though.”

“Its all his, that money was never meant to be mine and besides,” he leant closer to press his lips against my forehead, “I already have everything I need.”

I grinned and claimed his lips with mine, my arms tightening around his neck and his hands pulling me closer. I couldn’t get enough of this man, Charlie Babbitt was going to be the death of me.

“What happens after this?” I pulled back for breath, “When we both go home?”

“Well we don’t live far from each other,” the corner of his lip lifted, “And I need a new employee at the company.”

“Oh really?” My brow raised jokingly, “I didn’t realise there was a job vacancy.”

“It actually opened up recently,” he pretended to look at his watch, “Two seconds ago to be precise.”

I chuckled quietly and he nodded, “Though seriously, there is a job for you at the company if you want it.”

“What would I be doing?”

“I’m sure we can find something,” he shrugged as we moved around the dance floor, “I’d be your boss…”

“Sounds like a forbidden Office romance,” my mouth curved into a smile as I kissed my way up his jaw, “I’m in.”

“You just like the idea of me bending you over the desk and fucking you senseless when we’re not supposed to, don’t you?” he murmured against my skin and my back arched slightly.

“You know….we could always take this conversation to the bathroom.”

He leant back, “At your sisters wedding?”

I shrugged, “She won’t care, and I need this right now….so I can go to the bathroom alone and think about you slamming me against the wall and sliding your-“

His head leaned back with a low groan and I continued, “…Or you can come with me and make these fantasies a reality.”

I grew hot under the intensity of his dark gaze, and he smirked, “You never even had to ask.”

Without wasting a moment of hesitation, Charlie grabbed my hand and we rushed back out to the private bathrooms. My skin was already hot at the idea of Charlie filling me, and my heart pounded loudly enough for the both of us. This day couldn’t get any better.

My back pressed against the cool bathroom wall and Charlie pinned my wrists above my head. Pulling my skirt to the side, he lined himself up at my entrance and wait…no, it could get better.

He rolled into me with one thick thrust and my head tipped back in blissful pleasure. Completely inside of me, I took a moment to adjust to his size before he pounded into me once more, my thighs already spilling with a pool of wetness.

Best

Day

Ever.

The end💋

[amhrosina]

Two Ghosts Part 1A (Frank Castle x OC)

Series Masterlist - Read Premise, Warnings, etc. here!

Pairing: Frank Castle x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Read it on: AO3, Wattpad // Follow me on: Instagram

Previous: Prologue // Next: Part 1B - Always an Angel

(1A) - Chemtrails

Violence is a nasty business. Lucia learned this fact rather quickly after everything went down, and the learning curve was a bitch. For example, one of the first things she learned was that knives are great weapons if you know how to use them, but if you don’t have the upper body strength to defend yourself, anyone bigger than you should be brought down using a larger (or more powerful) weapon. The scar that stretched from her elbow to her shoulder taught her that one.

She also learned that guns are only as useful as you make them. She learned this when a 9-millimeter was leveled at her head by a person that clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near the weapon he was holding. That was the first time she shot someone, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Finally, one of the most important things she learned, and this was actually the first thing she ever learned regarding the world of violence, was to empty the clip into whoever she was shooting at. Frank had taught her that one, though he hadn’t meant to teach Lucia anything at all about his world. It was a slip-up that would ultimately end up saving her life, though Frank wouldn’t ever hear about it.

Lucia shook the thoughts from her head, returning to the man in front of her, slumped forward and bleeding all over the khaki-colored pants he wore. Blood and sweat coated his skin, but she found it hard to feel sympathetic for his swollen, black and blue face as he spit on her shoes in disgust. She rolled her eyes. The endeavor had already taken too long, and he hadn’t given her any real information yet. She didn’t let the thoughts in that told her it might’ve been a waste of an evening.

“I don’t think you heard me correctly, Reginald.” Lucia fiddled with the knife in her hands, running the edge of it along the pad of her finger – not hard enough to cut, but dramatic enough to remind the man what she’d do to him if he didn’t start talking soon. “Tell me where they are, and I’ll consider letting you go.”

He eyed the blade with his one good eye, scanning the hilt of it before grimacing. She rested her chin on her fist, smiling at his disgust. Impatience curled in her gut, but she knew not to let him see it on her face.

“I already told you,” he spat, baring his teeth, “They don’t tell me anything. I’m just a lackey! Bottom of the food chain!”

“Hmm,” Lucia leaned forward, resting her hands on either side of Reginald so that she was face to face with him. “The problem is that I don’t believe you. And I’m growing impatient. The longer we sit here, the less useful you are to me. Do you want to know what will happen when I lose what little patience I have left, Reginald? I bet you don’t, but I’ll tell you anyway.” 

She pulled her pistol out of the holster tied around her thigh and clicked the safety off. Aiming it directly at Reginald’s forehead, she tilted her head and cocked the gun. Reginald furiously shook his head, eyes widening.

“N-no, wait.” He tugged at the ropes around his wrists, a fruitless endeavor that amused Lucia greatly. Frank had taught her how to tie those knots. They wouldn’t be coming untied anytime soon. 

“You’ve got about fifteen seconds before I pull the trigger, Reggie. I’d start talking if I were you.”

Reginald was visibly shaking, whimpering every time Lucia shifted her weight. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he yelped, shaking his head. “I don’t know anything! I swear!”

“Seven seconds, Reginald.”

“WAIT!” A single bead of sweat slid down his cheek, mimicking a tear. “You don’t understand. They’ll kill me if I say anything!”

“Three, two, on-”

“Okay! Okay, relax! I’ll tell you!” 

Lucia tilted her head, waiting for an explanation. Reginald sagged in his chair, relieved.

Lucia sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “You’ll die either way if you don’t start talking.”

“There’s a warehouse.” He started, eyeing the gun still aimed at his forehead. “It’s by a loading dock off the Hudson. Only a guard or two. I’m not supposed to say anything-” Lucia’s finger twitched toward the trigger, causing Reginald to speak faster, “But the boss keeps a lot of important shit there!”

“Like what?” Lucia tilted her head, this time in curiosity. 

“Like documents! A paper trail! They’re importing some black market level shit through the loading dock. Like…people.”

This didn’t surprise Lucia, but it wasn’t the information she was looking for. If anything, she could just pass the information along to Matt. 

Lucia raised an eyebrow. “And I’m just supposed to believe that you’re telling me the truth?”

“Did you forget that you’re holding a gun to my head?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why would I lie?”

“You just told me they’d kill you if you told me anything.” She shrugged. “If I were you, I’d lie.” 

“So I’m a dead man, either way, it seems.” He groaned, trying again to pull his wrists free from their binding. 

“Maybe not.” Lucia lowered the gun slightly, aiming at Reginald’s thigh. “Will any of the documents lead me to Frank Castle’s killer?” 

And there it was. The real reason Lucia was doing all of this. The real reason Lucia was doing anything these days. It was a gamble, revealing her true motive to a known enemy, but her patience had begun mirroring a thin layer of ice. That is to say, take one wrong step and suddenly you’re under freezing water, struggling to find the surface. 

Reginald must have seen the conflict in her face, because he suddenly and inexplicably began to laugh. It began as a low chuckle, building more and more until he was cackling in her face. Hatred seethed deep in her chest, and it took all the discipline she could muster to not raise the gun to his head and pull the trigger.

“You’re the bitch we used to draw Castle out, aren’t you? You’re Lucia?”

Lucia involuntarily bared her teeth at him. What little composure she had left was slipping through her fingers quickly. Matt’s words echoed in her brain. 

It wasn’t your fault, Lucia.

“Shut the fuck up.” She finally grunted, raising the gun to his head again. 

“It worked so well. Did you hear how he didn’t fight back? Not even when the knife started slicing into him. All because of you.”

“I’m going to kill you-”

Reginald’s laugh cut her off, spurring an anger so white-hot and raw that Lucia could barely keep the gun pointed straight at him. Her body shook with rage at his words, even though she knew what he was saying was true.

“You’re trying to, what, avenge him?” Reginald snorted. “The anger, the rage, the...violence. None of it will make you feel any better. At the end of the day, he’s still gone and you’re still alone.”

The gun went off before she could fully comprehend what she was doing. Again. Again. Again. Reginald’s body jerked with every additional shot before finally sagging in the chair, lifeless and horribly disfigured. The bullet holes dripped with blood, soaking the fabric of his shirt in a deep crimson. Lucia watched it drip to the floor, breathing heavily. Her ears rang with the echo of the gunshots. 

It wasn’t the first man she’d killed, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time she’d ever lost control like that. She backed away from the body, hurling herself across the room. The gun, still warm in her hands, clattered to the floor. She’d just killed someone at the sheer mention of Frank’s name. Was this really the path she was on?

A siren, probably miles away but still noticeable, prodded Lucia out of her head, urging her to hurry. She stuffed the gun in her waistband again and turned to leave. When she got to the door, she paused and looked back at Reginald’s body for a brief moment. She didn’t know him, nor did she care to learn much about him before he became her mark, but she knew he probably had someone somewhere that would miss him. Most people did, even if they were inexplicably tied to the mob.

The ones who love us will miss us.

Matt’s words, spoken in a hushed whisper at Frank’s funeral, echoed in her head again. Yes, she thought, the ones who love him do miss him.

-

The sky was tinged a pale pink as dawn made its way across Manhattan. Lucia watched as the neighborhood around her came to life - grates being thrown open, doors being unlocked, people everywhere, commuting. The world, it seemed, was hellbent on continuing.

Lucia sighed, annoyed that the interrogation had taken so much of her night away from her. She’d have to wait until later that night to seek out the warehouse Reginald had mentioned. It wasn’t a huge lead, but she had done more for less information before. 

The idea of heading home to her empty apartment, knowing she wouldn’t find sleep for hours, was unbearable. Lucia had always been a night owl, sleeping in intervals throughout the day and working at night, but sleep had been eluding her more and more lately. Even if she could convince her body to rest, she couldn’t shut her brain off, and the last thing she wanted to do was go home and stare at her ceiling for three hours.

She turned left and headed in the opposite direction of her apartment, opting to visit the diner instead. She wasn’t hungry, but they had heat and decent coffee and wouldn’t kick her out after sipping on coffee for a couple hours.

The waitress behind the counter threw up her hand in a wave when Lucia stepped through the door. The place was nearly deserted, only occupied by a couple of fellow regulars, one of whom grunted in Lucia’s direction as she passed by him. It was the only greeting she’d ever gotten from him, but she didn’t mind.

“Hey, Stan.” She mumbled in response, heading for the familiar red and white booth in the back corner. 

She slid into the seat and dug through her backpack, searching for the phone she rarely turned on these days. Her eyes snagged on the book she couldn’t bear to part with just yet: an old, tattered copy of the play, Hamlet. She considered pulling it out, opening it for the first time since Frank had left her, and then shook the thought from her head. She was fond of it, yes, but it physically pained her to think about it for too long.

Kayla, the waitress, appeared with a fresh cup of coffee moments later.

“You doin’ alright?” She smiled warmly, placing the coffee in front of Lucia.

“I’m fine.” Lucia returned with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Anything else I can get you besides the coffee? It’s still considered Tuesday in the register, so the pancakes are ha-”

“Half off, yeah.” Lucia finished for her, nodding. “Just the coffee for now, I think.”

“I always forget you used to work nights.” Kayla said, awkwardly shuffling the menus in her hands. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Kayla.”

Lucia genuinely appreciated Kayla’s attempts at being friendly with her. She always asked how Lucia was doing in a way that told Lucia she really meant it and wanted to know. But Lucia didn’t have the energy she once had to maintain friendships. She’d lost contact with her college friends right around the time that she’d dropped out, right around the time that she lost Frank. Lucia couldn’t really blame them either. She wouldn’t want to be friends with her either.

The only real friend she still had was Matt, though she’d been avoiding him lately too. He called all the time to check on her, and it was driving her crazy. Hence, the phone that remained off most of the time. The same phone that was currently rebooting after a week-long stint at the bottom of her backpack. 

Almost as soon as the phone screen lit up, she wanted to turn it off again. Rolling her eyes, she scrolled through the twelve missed call notifications from Matt. Speak of the devil. 

Ha!

She almost cracked a smile at her pun, and then, instead, frowned deeply when she realized the only person she wanted to tell it to was dead. Mood completely soured, she opened the news app and began scrolling through the various stories about the happenings of New York, sipping her coffee every once in a while and thanking Kayla when she came by to refill the cup. 

It would’ve been a perfectly fine morning if she hadn’t heard the unmistakable sound of a cane tapping along the tile behind her. She groaned before he could make himself known, laying her forehead on the table in a dramatic fashion. Matt chuckled, sliding into the booth opposite hers. It felt odd to see anyone besides Frank sitting in the booth opposite hers, but she didn’t mention this out loud.

“Good to see you too, Lucia.”

Lucia resisted the urge to comment on his ability, or lack thereof, to see anything. She leaned back, taking in his appearance for the first time in weeks. He was in a suit, clearly on his way to work, dawning his infamous red glasses.

“You look dreadful.” He stated simply, before turning to face a smiling Kayla.

“You can’t even see!” Lucia pointed out incredulously, throwing her arms out in indignation. 

Kayla gave her a funny look and Lucia inwardly cringed at her outburst. Matt didn’t seem to notice Lucia had even spoken.

“Um,” Kayla giggled like a school girl, apparently incapable of resisting Matt’s natural charm, “Can I get you anything? If it’s on Lucia’s check, I can get you some pancakes half-off. Her ticket was started before the register reset for the day, so technically she’s a Tuesday customer, even though it’s Wednesday!”

Kayla continued to overshare Lucia’s predicament with Matt, who nodded along politely, even though he was clearly unhappy to hear that Lucia had been there for hours before his arrival. 

“Anyways,” Kayla finished, sighing, “Pancakes?”

“I’ll take some to go, Kayla.” Matt smiled, turning to face Lucia, “Foggy likes them, you know?”

Kayla nodded, furiously scribbling on her notepad. “Lucia? You want anything besides the coffee?”

Lucia silently cursed Kayla for being born, though that wasn’t really her fault, either. 

“No than-” She started, before being cut off by Matt.

“She’ll take some, too. Won’t you, Lucia?” He stressed her name through clenched teeth.

Lucia sighed. “Sure. Thanks, Kayla.”

Kayla headed back to the counter, still blushing from her interaction with Matt. Lucia watched her go until, at last, she forced herself to face Matt again.

“How’d you know I was here?” She asked, fiddling with her fingers on the table.

“Lucky guess.” Matt shrugged. 

“No, really.” Lucia tried again, leaning her head on her hands.

“I’m being serious.” He responded. “I didn’t plan this.”

In actuality, Matt really hadn’t planned this. Sure, he knew he needed to check on Lucia, but he hadn’t planned on it being at 7 o’clock in the morning on his way to work. He had been walking by when he overheard Kayla and one of the cooks talking about Lucia over a cigarette. Both were perplexed at Lucia’s sudden resignation from the diner and her insistence on spending hours in a specific booth in said diner. Matt hadn’t hesitated to turn on his heels and walk through the front door as soon as he heard Lucia’s name.

“Sure.” Lucia rolled her eyes again. “Twelve missed calls, Matt? What are you, my mother?” 

Matt cracked a smile. Frank had once referred to him as the “mother hen” of Hell’s Kitchen, and the tone of Lucia’s voice as she questioned him reminded him dearly of Frank. 

“If you answered your phone, you’d have zero missed calls.” Matt pointed out, crossing his fingers together and resting them on the table, matter-of-factly. 

“If you got the fucking hint,” Lucia muttered furiously, “You’d know I don’t want to talk to you.”

Matt nodded, as if she hadn’t just gravely insulted him to his face. His ability to remain calm in situations like this one was the most frustrating part of being his friend. 

“So you’re doing okay, then?” He tilted his head, daring her to lie to him. “No nightmares? Nothing keeping you up at night? No nightly activities around the neighborhood?”

Lucia steeled herself before answering. She knew Matt’s party trick, and wanted nothing to do with it.

“I’m fine.” She crossed her arms and looked away. She knew she probably looked like a moody teenager next to Matt, but she didn’t care. What she did on her own time was her business. 

“Yeah? Then why do you smell like gunpowder? I know you’ve got a gun in your bag. What were you doing before you came here, Lucia? Why do you smell like blood?”

“Seems like you’ve got it all figured out.” Lucia spat, angrily gathering her things.

Stop, Lucia. Sit back down. 

He was right, of course, but Lucia wasn’t going to admit that to him. Truthfully, she was terrified of how he’d react when he inevitably found out she was killing people to get closer to Frank’s killer. As much as she hated his overbearing presence, she also didn’t like to think about what her life would look like without him in it. She’d be truly alone, and that just wasn’t something she was capable of considering.

“I’m just trying to help, Luc.” Matt tried again, furrowing his brow.

He’s your friend. He was Frank’s friend, too. He’s worried about you.

“Don’t call me that.” Lucia warned, heart clenching at the nickname she used to adore. “I don’t need your help and I don’t want it.”

If you do this, he’ll hate you. You’ll be alone again. Is that what you want?

She threw down a twenty on the table, admittedly too much for two stacks of pancakes and a coffee, but she didn’t care. 

“Lucia, just stop for a second. Please-”

“Leave me alone, Matt.”

You’re alone again, Lucia. And this time, it’s definitely your fault.

She turned on her heels and stomped directly past Kayla, who was reluctantly approaching Lucia’s table with a timid look on her face. Clearly, the argument had left the security of the booth and had begun impeding on the other customer’s breakfasts. 

By the time she stepped onto the sidewalk, her anger had shifted from full blown rage to a small, easily maintained ember. That marked the second time she’d lost her temper in less than six hours. She didn’t even have the energy to be angry anymore. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t have the energy to feel much of anything these days. 

Grumpy and thoroughly exhausted, Lucia headed back toward her apartment, where she would undoubtedly spend the next few hours dissociating before finally drifting to sleep. She needed the rest, anyways, because as soon as it was dark enough, she was heading to the loading docks to find the warehouse Reginald had mentioned.

Her eyes snagged on movement in a building’s glossy windows as she trudged home. She halted, blinking once, twice, at the once familiar person staring back. Hollowed out cheeks, dark under eyes, and limp hair were all side effects of her nightly activities, but she’d never seen that dead look in her eyes before. Was this a side effect of rotting? Would she ever find her old self again? Did she want to, if Frank wouldn’t be there to hold her?

The city continued bustling around her. The world continued spinning. People continued living. Somewhere, lives were being brought into the world and lives were being taken, people were hired and fired, people got married and divorced, planes took off and planes landed. Signs of life were everywhere, even if you weren’t looking for them. Lucia glanced up. Chemtrails littered the sky, but she struggled to find the plane that made them. 

Next: Part 1B - Always an Angel

Series Tag List:

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[sokumotanaka]

Why would Weiss think Jaune with a beard is attractive when he: Stalked her to the point of confiding her to her room, (And when he said he stopped he musically joked that he lied.) Won’t take no for an answer (Don’t forget Yang doesn’t respect her wishes either and literally says “you’ll get her one day”, Has childish tendencies and no ambition, not even the fact he was a leader made him wanna get training or not sleep in class. Literally gets violent with children and Team rwby, he doesn’t hit them but him demanding he needs to be left alone till he’s calm means that he’s the type to want affirmation for an argument but refuses to let anyone else have a word in edgewise. Never apologizes for any of his faults and issues, literally gets physically violent and punches holes in walls and tables.

All of this goes against Weiss’s characterization, she’d more likely be creeped out by Jaune than anything, dudes a sad loser, who still acts childish and it took falling into an alternate world and being forced to take up a duty Ren and Nora can’t take care of for him or enable him (cause heaven forbit they disagree with Jaune like when he again dragged their team down by literally doing little to nothing to improve till he felt like it. If I were either of them I’d get his ass dropped.)

Jaune’s characterization is of a giant child who doesn’t wanna take accountability for most things, gets childishly violent and doesn’t learn from his mistakes, he shouldn’t be getting rewarded Weiss for doing the bare minimum of looking like a 17 year old with a ugly beard. I’m just saying there’s a big Yikes of a problem that the show itself is shipping this couple that has zero chemistry, the guy has shown creepy, poor behavior towards women and honestly Jaune should end up single and a better person for it, but I doubt that’ll happen cause it’s Miles’s show even if he’s not working on it he’s got two friends and whoever that woman is working on it.

[justanechoflower-ddlc]

(I’d say it’s fair to do some posts where it’s just writing. Really, we’d actually expect things to display in DDLC’s style, so things already look a bit different than how they actually are anyway. So sure, some things can be text. Besides, my Monika posts are just text, so there’s no reason why the Flowey responses can’t also be text. I would suggest Doki Doki Dialogue Generator as a middle ground, but I haven’t found a simple way to make custom characters there yet… If anyone more in the know about that program can give a simple way of making a custom character (Like human Flowey?), they can share. That’d trim things down to a few sprites that can just be re-used so Nat doesn’t have to re-draw Flowey every single panel, while still being able to do a few visuals. And the excuse for re-used sprites is that it’s literally how it’d actually work in the game!)

(But text-based responses work too. They’re what I do, after all.)

(Oh, and Faysal, the order of the plan was left, right, middle. Yeah, I know it might be a bit confusing for them to be in that order, that’s why I’m clarifying. Of course the concept of the game has to come before the revelation of what Monika, and later Sayori, did TO the game! Those flashback sequences he’s talking about are just the events of the game, by the way. If you’ve played or seen someone play DDLC, it happened just like that (presuming they got the normal ending and not the special one). He means Act 3 and Act 4. They just don’t call it that because those are meta terms that we use, and aren’t said in-game.)

(As for the recap, I suppose what Flowey said is good enough for what’s currently going on. Sure, there’s also this subplot going on with Flowey setting up a baking show-off against Natsuki that he’ll probably cheat at and also say he’ll get rich from the things he’ll bake and sell (when he’s actually taking gold from the Underground), and we did learn a bit more about the things leading up to this, but most of that isn’t that relevant for the time being. Maybe we’ll come back to it eventually, though.)

(My own take was basically going to be that Monika came to Flowey’s world some time after she was deleted, mostly because she saw much of herself in him, both knowing their worlds were a game, abusing that, and are trying to be better now, but also that unlike Monika, Flowey didn’t go insane from that knowledge, so there was faint hope he might have some idea to help lessen the existential problems such knowledge would bring.)

(Monika thought it was a good idea to stay in Flowey’s world, mostly because she still didn’t want to come back to the club after everything she did (like we see in Act 4 of the game), then Flowey pointed out a bunch of reasons why that‘s a bad idea. He also wanted to see her world, so Monika took him there. That’s how this blog started and why Monika was dropped from the main blog…

(After that, I’d probably have just said what Flowey said. Though there was a step before the three he mentioned, but that wasn’t Monika’s plan. It was Flowey (and also Sayori) convincing Monika to stick around in the club in the first place. They‘ve managed to at least get her to give it another chance. They’re hoping she’ll find herself choosing to stick around for real. And Sayori’s planning to make Monika the club’s vice president soon, as a part of a transition that’d end with Monika becoming club president once again. 

(Oh, also, nice rendition of the events of Act 3 there, Nat!)

(I think that’s everything. The rest either aren’t that relevant anymore, or are things that can be derived from the game itself (for example, of course the club writes and shares poems still!))

(As for the other post… what you said there makes sense. About what parts of their own code they’ve edited in the past editing probably how it worked then. And with Sayori, maybe how it’s like now too. She’s less prone to the same kind of thing Monika is. Maybe it’s because she did a lot less than Monika did, since Monika stopped her mid-way, or because Sayori didn’t make the other characters worse, but just skipped straight to going Just Sayori, or maybe it’s just due to her more aloof personality. I don’t see her shying away from the code as much as Monika does. She definitely doesn’t tamper with anyone else’s code though, that would be too far for her at this point (at least after we account for the fact she wouldn’t want to make Monika uncomfortable.) She’s way more likely than Monika to use the console for stuff though. There’s a reasonable possible world where there’s a dynamic of Monika having to stop Sayori from doing anything too big with it so things aren’t given away too soon, though I already explained before why I didn’t actually do that here, despite how in-character for Sayori that’d be.)

(As for the non-existent NPCs, I’ve been thinking of them of them as sheer environmental factors that the game sort of tricks the characters into thinking exist. Natsuki and Yuri would have had the illusion of having gone to class with a teacher, when really the game doesn’t render any of it. Kind of like what you see in the actual game, you never see any teachers or the classes, but MC describes the school day as your average, usual day. Monika and Sayori right now see it for how it really is, and how there’s no such thing.)

(It’s also like when MC narrated “As we draw near, the streets become increasingly speckled with other students making their daily commute.” The only other characters at the time were Monika, Sayori (who was with MC), Yuri, and Natsuki. But the game had a general narrative that there were other students, and MC described these non-existent students. They’re sort of formless “characters” that are implied to exist, yet don’t. Same for the teachers. They’re implied to exist, but they’re really just the game doing things and attributing it to a non-existent character, and so don’t really exist. But people unaware of this like Natsuki and Yuri would recall seeing them. Monika and Sayori, with the full epiphany, don’t see them at all, since they see the game how it really is. Which also means illusory interactions with them don’t work that well, since they couldn’t directly see or hear them, due to them, you know, not existing..)

(This is what I was going for with this interaction:

“>#Well yes, we could… except that I told everyone if we DID find a way for that to happen, I’d have one of the school’s admin faculty people tell all of this himself, so that way we know it’s for real… and, well, they don’t actually EXIST, because it’s just us, so… I wouldn’t be able to actually talk to them… ehehe…

>#Sayori, seriously?! You should have known that anything involving direct interactions with background entities doesn’t work well, and not even SAID that to the others!)

(Also, if you asked Natsuki and Yuri to try describe what the “teachers” are like, they’d probably give totally generic answers, because said “teachers” are not real entities with actual properties. And of course, they probably wouldn’t notice anything off with that unless someone in the know points this out.)

(Oh, and should I make a submission on the main blog (or maybe this one?) that more goes into how the blog runs? Like how it technically takes place between the end of the human Flowey arc on the main blog and Flowey turning back into a flower, or explaining the fact the blog is currently in a cycle of two “phases”, the meeting phase, and the void phase, and how they work?)

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

(Good idea! I looked into ddlc text boxes and I found a generator where I can put in my own sprite. The only thing I need to do is draw the main form in ddlc style- may be difficult but I'll try- make some expressions, and I'll be good for awhile!

(For the confusing panel sequence I didn't mean for it to be that hard to read! I figured it would be fine to understand since the middle panel had its text low in the image so therefore it would be read last. I'm not an expert on comic style. I just thought it'd look cool!

(If Monika and Sayori flatout told the other girls the world was a game (without a full explanation and proof) they would probably think it's a joke and say they're hallucinating or something like that. And I find that so ironic because Yuri and Natsuki are the ones who see people that do not exist!!!

(I'd really appreciate the help if you could write that clarification of what happened and how things work! Thank you for the offer. I suggest to submit it on the main blog so more people will see it. Also make sure to keep it concise as possible!

(Thanks for adding to my rundown of events! @faysal1232 I highlighted the summary of what's happened so far in red so you can find it easily.

[fleabagoflowers]

Anna

One of the first genuine memories I have of us is knowing who you were before ever meeting you. I remember the teacher taking attendance in the first day of class and a new name popping up: Anna. Even though I didn’t remember ever meeting you, I knew that name. And in a way, I felt a certain ownership over you. When you arrived and became best friends with someone else I was immensely jealous. It was probably the first time I ever felt jealousy in my life. We eventually became friends that same year, but I still wasn’t your priority, your bestest friend. I was all but a spare, a second best friend. I knew, nonetheless, deep down, I would prevail, we would prevail and become the bestest of friends. And that we did. The years in which we were best friends were some of the most incredible of my whole life. So amazing that I blocked out who I was before them. Before you. I simply denied such a joyless existence because you were everything to me. My source of joy, comfort and inspiration, but also of approval and validation. So many times, the one thing that made me feel not like a total reject was being your friend. You were always so easygoing and likeable, everybody just loved you and wanted to be with you or just around you. And never having had that, I took some pride in having more of you than anyone else. - Enjoy her while you can, because she’s MY best friend, MY person in this world, in the end she’ll always turn back to me. - And our ordeal was perfect for the time it lasted. But then, it started to dissipate. Slowly, but steadily like thick smoke. You got a boyfriend. I remember the exact feeling I had when you told me. Dread. I knew that nothing would be the same after that day. And I was right, it never was. We were still best friends for a whole year after that, but I wasn’t your person anymore, he was. There was suddenly this enormously significant part of your life that I not only knew nothing about but also couldn’t take any part in. We prevailed for a while nonetheless and, after the initial shock, we fell into a lovely routine: you and me. And him. But then we graduated from school and the unescapable everyday meetings were gone and so were we. It’s funny, I always imagined I’d lose touch with some friends from school after we left it, I just never pictured it’d be you I lost. Realistically, there is no one to blame apart from ourselves. It wasn’t him or any of our other friends and neither of us are so busy that it would be an impediment to the survival of our friendship (even though you like to pretend you are that busy). We just drifted apart. Lost our connection. It seems you just don’t care that much and I’m too proud to admit to you that I care this much. This made rethink our whole relationship. Maybe we never had that much in common. Looking back I actually don’t think we did. I overly obsess about things so quickly and you are casual about every single interest you ever harboured over anything. You’re very much into your looks and establishing a social media persona that you deem worthy and you judge people so much and therefore expect people to also judge you as much as you judge them and I want to remain as far away as possible from this type of twisted perspective on interpersonal relationships. I was never really comfortable opening up to you and yet you loved to dump your problems on me. It feels like everything you do is so effortless and you’re such a natural and all I ever do is try, try and try. I always imagined you and I would remain friends forever and in 10, 15, 20 years would look back at our life together and rejoice in it and be able to tell everyone how we’ve known our best friend for over 20 years and how cool and exciting and movie like that is, but maybe what will happen is we’ll both separately remember each other and, in 20 years when looking at old photos of our time together, we’ll wonder what went wrong and what would have happened if we’d remained the number 1 person in each others lives like we were for the most marvellous years.

[runawaymun]

Also I will admit I’ve never heard of those dollar bill thingys. And maybe this is an American thing and you all do this to each other and it’s no problem 🤷‍♀️ idk I’m not American (idk if you are either lol)

I’m sorry if I came across as harsh. I just. I would be horrified if I came home and my neighbour was messing with my mail. I’d wonder forever what else they’d done, or were will to do, because they decided to they were in the right. I can’t wrap my mind around it. Sorry.

Ok I’m going to answer all of these together in one post and just use this so you get your notif.

1. This is not mail. It’s brochures being left on people’s doorsteps. If they were being mailed to specific people then yes, it’d be messed up (and illegal) for me to snoop in people’s mailboxes and take them. But flyers aren’t mail and it’s illegal to place them in people’s mailboxes, and technically you’re not supposed to place them on a property without permission from the property owner (which these guys undoubtedly do not have. And tbh I was creeped out that they even got in my building. It’s locked behind a key-code. Someone probably left the door open bc it was summertime).

2. CW: sexual assault, abuse, child death, homophobia, transphobia: These are brochures for a harmful, deceptive hate group. I use hate group very seriously in the full sense of the word. I grew up adjacent to their beliefs and have friends that grew up in this group. Take the worst kind of transphobia you can think of, the worst kind of homophobia, the worst kind of racism and sexism, and make it even worse than that. These are people that teach parents to physically abuse their children in order to save their souls from hell and how to sneak it under officials’ noses. These are people that teach women to stay in abusive marriages because it’s a “sin” to leave. They cover up child SA (which is rampant in their organization), victim blame, and don’t allow their children to go to school, and discourage women from holding jobs. These are bookburners. They adopt children specifically to convert and abuse them and have a history of children dying in their care due to neglect or abuse. They will ruin your life, and ruin how you think about the world, and they hit every single part of the BITE model for cults (behavioral control, information control, thought control, emotion control). So no, I don’t feel the least bit bad about taking down their predatory, deceptive pamphlets off people’s doorknobs.

3. Like I appreciate where you’re coming from anon, but with respect: unless you’ve lived here I’m not sure you’ll truly understand how prevalent and malicious these cults are. We had cult missionaries on my college campus who would single out young women and prey on them for recruiting, because they knew them to be vulnerable. If this was a normal situation with any kind of normal organization leaving a normal kind of doorknocker brochure (or Mormons or JWs, even), I wouldn’t dream of taking it down and throwing it away. But these people are predatory and malicious and they cause harm and destroy lives and generate a huge amount of lasting trauma for the people they manage to ensnare. If they leave brochures out, I’m taking all of them and they’re going straight in the garbage.

[luvdzu]

emergency getaway

221029 - - - ♡ minutes after the article of eun’s private instgram getting leaked the girls frantically look for eunseo and distract her from the news, namjoon however had different plans in mind

a/n: edited a few things here and there but i just realized that eun and namjoon have only been dating for one year during this time, they're slowburn asf, and i'm glad they found the footing to finally date each other 😭🫶

“Have you seen the article?” The ever so caring leader, Irene pulled up her phone sending the link to the group chat.

“What if unnie sees it?” Yeri mutters, worrying as she clicks the link of the said article Joohyun sent regarding Eunseo.

“She hasn’t entered the chat room so I think we’re safe, let’s just read it to grasp the situation.” Seulgi adds, taking a few glances at their leader silently scrolling her phone, probably halfway through the article.

The dorm was filled with silence– and not only were they alarmed by the sudden article, but also the breach of privacy on their member whose private account got leaked for the world to see.

And if things got worse, her relationship with Namjoon was also at stake, as well as the company reaction, including the fans.

“The relationship was kept as a secret, it wasn’t mentioned at all. But it could be alarming as they might use the information as leverage.” Wendy spoke silently, deep in her own thoughts trying to figure out loopholes and solutions to the “scandal”

“I can’t believe her account got leaked.” Sooyoung frowned remembering the same situation she faced months ago, but the circumstances are different for Eunseo, as she kept their relationship a secret to the company.

“Have you tried calling unnie?” Legs shaking anxiously, Yeri paced around their dorm’s living room as her calls kept coming through Eunseo.

“She’s not answering mine either. I hope she’s somewhere safe.” Seulgi mumbles under her breath, before ending the call in her phone.

“Didn’t she say she would meet Namjoon in his apartment earlier?” Irene thinks, remembering their conversation an hour earlier before the latter left the dorm.

“I’d be glad if she’s with Namjoon, maybe she’s not on her phone?” Wendy suggests trying to lighten up the mood as they cling to hope on Eunseo’s whereabouts.

“Are you feeling okay now? Do you want to stay the night?” Namjoon stands up wrapping his arms around Eunseo, comforting her as much as he possibly can with the situation at hand.

Remaining silent, Eunseo focuses on clearing her head, organizing her thoughts as they fly past her mind.

All your fault. This is all her fault, leaving her second account public like that, it was her mistake. And now it will cause a chain reaction of problems.

Her reputation. Namjoon’s fans. Her fans. The members, how are they feeling. The single action of a member will result in the punishment of the whole group.

They’ve suffered enough and now that things are starting to look better for the team, another setback pushes them back, and this time Eunseo knows she has no one to blame, not even the company.

Because this was all her fault.

“Hey, you don’t have to talk to me but please don’t blame yourself. Your members are probably worried, do you want me to call them instead?”

Eunseo blinks the tears away, pushing them back her eyes, now is the time to be stronger than ever. She needs to defend herself, and her relationship with Namjoon, knowing a few hours later, once the sun comes up, the company will contact her regarding the whole situation.

Knowing the company, they might say a few things, or completely ignore the situation. "Good, or bad, publicity is still publicity," is what their manager always told them during moments like these.

But a dating scandal? After having a clean record for almost 8 years, Eunseo is feeling guilty of damaging her clean track record. Then again, it's not her fault she's dating, both know they've been pushing and pulling this relationship for almost 6 years.

It would be unfair to back out because of a dating rumor. Not just to Namjoon, but to Eunseo, because they both want this.

Eunseo wants to fight for her relationship.

Wrapping her arms around Namjoon, Eunseo succumbs around her boyfriend’s warmth, head slightly leaning on his shoulders they sit in silence as Namjoon rubs small circles on her back, calming her down completely.

“Do you think your manager can take me back to the dorms? I think– I want to be with the members right now.” Eunseo mumbles right between Namjoon’s neck and shoulders.

“Sure, sure, I’ll even come with you, we can go together if you want.” Namjoon reassures her as Euseo breaks away from the hug, staring at Namjoon before rubbing her eyes.

“I appreciate that, thank you Joon. I love you so much.” Eunseo presses her lips against his, giving Namjoon a small peck.

“We’re in this together remember, also HYBE knows so we have nothing to worry about, even if you’re worried the slightest I will help you and be with you along the way. We can do this Eun.”

Eunseo nods her head shyly before wrapping her arms around Namjoon once more.

“You don’t regret coming back to me right?” Namjoon whispers.

Eunseo shakes her head, “You’re my choice, I want us to work Joon.”

“Maybe she’s staying the night at Namjoon’s?” Seulgi spoke to the group, still sitting in the couch waiting for Eunseo.

“Let’s wait for her message before we head in our beds, just a little while. If she needs time we’ll just talk tomorrow.” Irene expressed firmly, still keeping herself sat on the couch.

“Maybe we can wait a little more minutes, surely Eunseo will give us a reply on her whereabouts soon.” Wendy suggests optimistically, sitting down beside the rest waiting.

As their dorm fills with silence, the sound of the doorbell catches the attention of the members as they race to the hallway catching the last few words of Eun’s conversation with her boyfriend.

“Thank you for taking me home, I’ll go ahead and talk to the girls. Thank you for being with me, and calling me when the while article was out.” Eunseo smiles bitterly, as a hint of sadness was etched on her face.

“It’s the least I can do, now don’t worry too much alright? I’m here for you, we’re here for you so go ahead and talk to your members, I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on.” Namjoon whispers, raising his eyebrows towards their silhouettes against the hallway.

After waving goodbye and making sure Namjoon left safely, Eunseo turned around to see the rest of the girls’ waiting for her with open arms.

“Girls…” Her voice in the verge of breaking down, the members immediately come closer wrapping their arms around Eunseo, showing support.

“Don’t say anything, we’ll figure this out together. We’re here for you Eunseo, so don’t worry too much about it okay?” Irene comes forward, moving the hair out of her face before wrapping her arms around Eunseo.

[hausofmamadas]

I have no idea why tf, or for what tf, or who tf I even wrote this for besides it came to me and I don’t know what else to do with it but share bc like I think it’s kinda funny and like gifs. So, yeah, here’s a thing sksksksks a drabble? as the real fanfic writers say??

═

| Only good for a good time |

Character/Pairing: Isabella Bautista (heavily implied Isabella Bautista x Enedina Arellano Félix)

Word count: smol ~850

✷ TWs: the general stupidity of men none ✷

⁂

Because a pretty face, dirt poor from Culiacan, can only possibly be good for one thing, right? If Isabella Bautista had like a lifestyle guru blog or a Wordpress diary or was like some kind of YouTube vlogger and/or Instagram influencer or god forbid, had a Tumblr, I feel like this would be an entry?? Regardless of the exact avenue, she is out here, screaming into the void of the internet about how her almost bestie and the rest of the world did her so beyond dirty and questioning what it means to be so damn sexy all the time. (You think I'm joking ... I promise you, this might actually be that shallow.)

⁂

It was almost like every breakup I’d ever had. A pat on the ass, a “thanks for your time” and “be on your way.” Actually it was worse, because none of the dirtbags I ever dated had left a check to add insult to injury. Another thing this one had that those breakups didn’t? The worst part? The absolute and complete cherry on top of this shit sundae?

I didn’t. fucking. see it. coming.

In hindsight, I probably should have. I’d never worked with another woman before, so I kinda just chalked it up to that. Less dicks and egos to dance around and deal with. But if I think about it now, there were always three operating in the background, after hours, and things were going too well, working too smoothly, had too few headaches, too few fires to put out. That should’ve tipped me off. Because life is never so kind. I mean, they say you can’t have it all, right? I never used to believe that but I’m beginning to. Because a pretty face, dirt poor from Culiacan, can only possibly be good for one thing, right?

And yeah, I do like to have a good time, if your idea of a good time is watching endless reruns of El Derecho de Nacer with a seventy pound German shepherd, drooling, half-asleep in your lap. I guess I don't mind dancing either, but that always depends on the company you're with. (If you're ever in Colombia, I've got a number for este chulito viejito who ruined dancing for me because it's just not the same without him ...

... he made that much of an impression.) But people are always projecting things onto me based on my looks. Which isn’t actually my problem … but is still somehow my problem.

So, it’s a question I ask myself often. Is it worth it to be beautiful? And now, don’t even start because I already know what you’re thinking like qué debo ser tan loca, sí? Oh poor linda, bonita, chulita, fresita. How life must be so terrible and hard for you. Cry me a river, pendeja. Ya cállate alashingada pues and smile.

And look, I get it. It sounds nuts to be asking that question porque por supuesto que sí, que ser linda, lo vale la pena.

And you’re right. The answer to that question is "yes" ... in some ways. I mean, sure, it may have gotten me out of a ticket, paying a fine or two. And well, yeah, actually come to think of it, I’ve never paid for a drink in my life.

It’s also part of, but definitely not all (not even close) of what got me out of Sinaloa and onto bigger things. Tijuana, Colombia, beyond.

Because people are nicer to you if you’re pretty. They tend to give you things when you ask (for the right ones) nicely.

But (and there’s always one of those) when I replay every single leer, every joke some sleazeball cracked about how “Colombians love a girl with a fat ass,” every pair of hungry, beady eyes behind sunglasses slid down the bridges of their noses. When I replay all of that? Yeah. I wish wasn’t. Or at least, not in the way I am.

See, because as much as I admire and respect her, the most annoying thing about Di— scratch that. One of the most annoying things about Dina is that she’s beautiful too. Noticeably so. I mean hey, I certainly noticed. Hell, I wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity had we not been in business together. He probably thinks he taught me so much, but Miguel was right about one thing: business in lust or love is a Bad Idea. (Well that, aaaand had she not been so busy making eyes at that Snack of a sicario working for them, whose name I can never remember.)

(And really …. I can't blame her.)

(… Or him, for that matter.)

So yeah, she’s beautiful. And yet, still, somehow people always seem to take her seriously. And okay yes, she’s someone who does naturally command respect, sure. But hey! Newsflash! We’re not that fucking different!

How do you think we worked together so well in the first place?

I guess, maybe it’s that she’s beautiful in a way that’s honest and doesn’t make too much noise. Frankly, for the longest time, I always thought it was because of how she dressed, like in those unflattering, oversized tiger sweaters. And good god, that 80-year-old librarian’s polka-dotted suit jacket, the one that made her look like a kooky preschool teacher …

If preschool teachers came customized with a mouth that savage. (I don’t think they do.)

But that theory went right out the window. Because when I did that, no matter how hard I tried to make myself look hard, they still all saw the same thing. One Thing. (Except the One Person I might’ve actually wanted to see the One Thing. Then again, what’s that saying? Don’t shit where you eat? As I said, bad for business. Although, now that I think about it, maybe I should’ve thrown caution to the wind since the whole thing went to shit anyway. Oh well. Así es la vida.)

Oh, I’m not even gonna bother spelling it out for you. Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to. And you do already know what it is. Because it’s the One Thing you see too, isn’t it? I mean, isn’t it what you all came for in the first place?