#I might go inactive for the week to get my mind off things. I love skyward sword but it's causing me so much anxiety rn

[etoilesbienne]

Okay on the reset, there's multiple things going on here.

I think it's fair for the heavily active CC to be frustrated their personal stuff was sidelined and interrupted with the reset, I get it. All that progress stopped. I also have full faith in all of the active CC to be able to bounce back and be capable of return in their own way. I trust this of BadBoyHalo and Tubbo. Pierre might have different concerns, but he's been doing content for a decade, I think he'll be fine.

On the other hand, I think this server reset was kinda necessary. Especially from the perspective of more new players being added soon. Like, even Tubbo when added was struggling to find things to do at first because he'd suggest something, and then people would point out someone else already did that like two months prior. To quote a friend, if Tubbo was struggling to find things to do, what's left for players like Lenay?

Keep in mind, the last time the admins tried something to level the playing field between active players and inactive players was Lucky Ducks. Which killed a lot of motivation for members who did like grinding hard to obtain materials. Lucky Ducks was just giving them that stuff without any work. This reset is the last resort in my opinion.

The other thing that interests me is that Etoiles mentioned that he knew about this reset coming (or something similar) for at least three months now. This is odd with the perspective of Pierre and BBH both reacting so badly, like they didn't know this would be happening. Because of both of these scenarios, I think there are two things that could have happened: 1. Etoiles vouching for a reset meant he talked to the admins more one-on-one over this. 2. The admins mentioned a server reset, and never detailed what that would revolve around. I personally think the second is more likely, as QStudios are somewhat... notorious? For being a little nebulous and not the best at communication for all streamers at once.

Ultimately I do think the server reset was a good decision, it encourages playing for people who were never able to get their foot in the door, and hopefully will make the server more active in the future. I also think the incentivizing for players to be farther apart ala Karmaland while create is off for the first few days is a good idea too, we don't need another Roier chunk that lags the hell out of the server being so close to spawn.

I think there's other parts that are less than desirable because they work poorly in practice (disabling all backpacks above iron unless purchased via... the new money system. The new money system in general. Punishing players for doing a bunch of backpacks as a storage system as if that isn't a fair playstyle because it's literally just a bunch of blocks on hand, it makes things more convenient I truly do not get the weird punishing behavior about backpacks. Not telling the players the list of nerfs/changes beforehand. Come on, I would love a Tubbo changelog reading stream. He'd have so much fun doing that.), however overall I am willing to wait another week or two to see how the admin team responds and fixes changes as they see them be interacted with. It's been three days, and there were a hell of a lot of changes.

[slasher-jaxshitposts]

WARNING: slight vent

This is a psa for all @slasher-jax followers

Hey guys!!! Sorry I've been so inactive 😬😔 I wanna post more, but don't have the energy to do so. I haven't been feeling well rested, I haven't been having inspiration, and my writing has begun to feel less like an escape, and more like something people expect from me. I started writing to escape my own emotions, but now that I have a bit more interaction with my posts, I feel terrible when I don't post something at least three times a week. My dad should be filing the paperwork soon to my mother about visitation rights, so Ive been getting terrible anxiety like that. I've been having a fucked up gut feeling when in my home alone, and my mom keeps telling me it's because of all the horror movies I watch. I'm not quitting writing, I am simply taking a break for a while until my mental stability is in a better place where I can writing without feeling like complete strangers expect me to. I understand most people aren't like that, and that I have no reason to be thinking that way, its just how my mind is. I am going to continue writing, I'm just not going to be posting it for a while until I get over this anxiety and depression. I love all of you guys, and thank you for your understanding. Feel free to continue tagging me in things and stuff, I will reblog them and interact with the posts you tag me in, however I will not be writing for a little while. Also feel free to send in more asks and stuff, I love receiving them and knowing that people do enjoy my writing, however it will take me a little while to write them as I am trying to catch up on some shows, movies, series, or im just trying to slim down my watchlist. I'm gonna start writing on paper first so I'm not staring at screens constantly when writing, it gives me headaches. Anyways, sorry this got so long, just letting y'all known before I disappear off the fucking earth for a little while.

people I think might be interested:

@puppet200 @zeroisreallygood @purpleeggyboi @th3-r4t-48 @im-a-simp898 @aflairforthemelodramaticc @luciluck2046 @caretaleandotherstuff @evry1h8s-me

[gumnut-logic]

“Virgil?”

He sighed, slammed the wrench down on Two’s hull and grabbed another one. “Yes, Gordon, what do you want now?”

“No need to be snappy there, bro.”

“Gordon, my ‘bird is currently floating in the Pacific with her engines full of water. In what way do you think this would put me in a good mood?”

“You have Penny on board.”

“What?”

“What is she doing right now?”

“Uh, helping Scott clean sand out of the intakes. Why?”

“Oh, just interested.”

Can you be interested silently? But he didn’t say it. A calming breath and he dove back into the hatch. The sun near the equator was expectedly hot, and in a breach of protocol, he had removed his baldric, stashed it nearby for the comm signal, and unzipped the top half of his uniform. He would have loved to throw the whole thing off, but safety concerns, a frowning Scott and, of course, the Penny presence vetoed that.

But man, it would be nice to be cool.

His girl was swamped with water and she wasn’t going to fly until that water was flushed out and all her engines checked and double checked. As it was it was likely they would have to airlift her back to the Island using the heavy-duty pods that had dragged her space-damaged carcass out of the ocean last time. It had taken a week to clean her out.

Thunderbird Two was not a submarine.

“So, she was a good co-pilot?”

“Yes, Gordon.”

“Reckon she might come out of rescues?”

“Why?”

“Maybe she wants to become a more active member of International Rescue?”

“Say that to her face and you are likely to lose yours. In no way is Lady Penelope inactive.”

“Uh, you might have a point.” A sigh. “So, what do you think of Penny?”

“Gordon, I’m not going to gossip about your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“But you wouldn’t mind if she was.”

“Um...”

“Obvious, Gordo, obvious.”

“You have a point.”

“Ask her out and put us out of our misery.”

“Hey, timing, Virg. It isn’t like I can escort her anywhere at the moment.”

“You don’t have to, Gordon, or haven’t you noticed that, she has been on Tracy Island more since you were injured than she has in the past ten years?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Ask her out, Gordon. Use one of the hoverbikes and take her down to your favourite beach for a picnic. I’ll even tie up Alan for you.” He swapped wrenches again. Damn, this vent was being stubborn. He whacked it and narrowly missed his thumb, but the housing shifted and he was finally able to open the access.

“Ugh, crap.”

“What?”

“Mulched sea life in the aft dorsal vent.”

“Mulched?”

“Well, if you went through the forward intake, you’d come out mulched too. Two is not a submersible.”

“You keep saying that, yet you didn’t hesitate to take her under.”

“I had good reason.”

“Yes, an older brother who wouldn’t listen to his resident aquanaut.” Gordon’s voice took on a frustrated tone. “If he had just waited, we wouldn’t have had the problem.”

“Scott was just anxious.”

“Virgil, if I had done that you would be ripping me a new one.”

A swallow. Gordon was right. There was a stern discussion to be had in the future. But the hope regarding their father was like a light at the end of the tunnel and it shone everything else into insignificance.

“We need to focus on Dad right now.”

“I will be as happy as you to find Dad, Virgil, but I don’t want to lose the brothers I have in the process.”

He put the wrench down and it clattered against Two’s hull. Gordon was right. Scott had been in some serious danger of never getting out of that sludge. Alan and Kayo were lucky to be alive. They had almost lost a Thunderbird to the Chaos Crew. And Thunderbird Two...both he and Penny had been at risk.

All for just the chance of more information.

“You have a point.”

“I know I do.”

Perhaps they had been a bit obsessed. But the chance, Dad needing their help, stranded so far away. Could he still be alive? This could be the rescue of their lives. But at what risk? Gordon had been stuck at home watching all of them cheat death on a simple hope.

That capsule still sat snug in the module and had yet to reveal whether it was all worth it.

Virgil bit his lip. “Dad might be still alive.”

“I really hope so. I really do, Virg. Just don’t do anything stupid and keep that eldest brother of ours from killing himself in the process.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.” A pause. “Just sucks to be me at the moment.”

“Should I leave Penny with you next time?”

“You’d need to tie her to the chair, Virg. As you said, she’s not one to sit and watch.”

“Neither are you.”

Silence from the comms for the first time in a long time. Virgil sighed. “Ask her out, Gords. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, maybe.” But his brother’s tone said the absolute opposite.

Looks like he would be pulling out some kind of motivational speech for his little brother in the near future. Who thought Gordon would ever need motivation of any kind? The aquanaut was usually a power source for the rest of them.

“Think about it, bro. She’d be the luckiest woman on the planet.”

“Heh.” A pause. “So, what wildlife did you puree? Got enough for identification?” That was an obvious subject change if he’d ever heard one. Okay, if that is how he wanted to play it.

“I’m thinking squid.” He reached in and grabbed a pile of jellied mush in his fortunately gloved hand and held it up so his holoreceiver could grab it. “What do you think? Look like something for dinner?”

“You took out a squid? You keep that killing green behemoth out of my ocean, Virgil.”

“Hey, it’s not like she did it on purpose.”

“Can you bring it closer?” There was a frown in his brother’s voice.

Virgil complied. Pieces of the slush slid down his arm and splashed on his undershirt. “Gross.”

“Uh, Virgil, put it down now.”

“What?”

“That’s not squid. That’s jellyfish.”

The sludge landed with a splat on Two’s hull. It left residue all over his glove and arm and shirt. “Shit!”

“Tell me you didn’t get it on your skin, Virgil. Stinger cells don’t puree.”

“Damnit!”

“Virgil!”

The gloves were tossed, the uniform followed in the most awkward undressing he had ever managed. His boots were stumbled off even more awkwardly. But nothing could hide the sudden tingling on his chest. Goddamnit, so stupid!

“Virgil, talk to me! I’m sending Scott up.”

“I’m okay. Just stupid.”

“TB4’s packs have some sting neutralising spray. I’m notifying Scott.”

His undershirt was flung onto the hull. He was never going to live this down. The tingling was fast becoming painful. A lovely array of welts outlining where the sludge had soaked through his shirt was appearing on his chest. “Unbelievable!”

“Virgil?” Scott appeared up through the forward hatch. “What the hell?”

“It was an accident.”

Of course, Penelope just had to follow his brother. So here he was standing in his undershorts on top of his bird in the middle of the ocean for all nearby female aristocrats to see.

Neither his brother or their London agent appeared to care in the slightest as they clambered across Two’s hull to reach him. “What happened? Gordon said you came in contact with a jellyfish?” Scott dumped a medkit on the hull and, opening it, pulled out a bottle of the sting spray. “Do we know what kind?”

Virgil grit his teeth. Yes, it was definitely hurting now. “Scan the slush. Just don’t touch it.”

“Send the readings to me and I’ll do the identification.” Gordon voice had lost any and all joviality.

Penny fished the scanner from Scott’s kit and did as the aquanaut asked.

“Virg?” Scott approached him with care. “Where and how bad?”

“Chest and bad enough.”

The spray was heaven on earth. Scott drenched him liberally in the chemical foam. “Anywhere else?”

“No, that little bit was enough.” Virgil let a breath out.

“Any sign of additional symptoms? C’mon, sit down, just in case.”

With a frustrated sigh, Virgil parked himself crosslegged on Two’s warm hull a decent distance from the slush scattered around the vent hatch. He glared at it. “Revenge from beyond the grave.”

“Got it.” Gordon’s voice held relief even before he spouted the needed information. “You’ve been Cannonballed, Virg.”

“What?”

“Cannonball Jellyfish. Stomolophus meleagris. You must have hit a swarm because that pile of slush makes up more than one. And don’t worry, not deadly. Usually a mild sting, but can get nasty in your eyes. I suspect that you’re really feeling it, because you’re playing with the pureed version.”

“Great.” Well, at least he wasn’t dying.

“Source says a few hours of ouch and the next day lots of itch.”

“Fantastic.” Just to make dragging his girl out of the ocean that little bit more entertaining. A put-upon sigh.

“Sit for a minute while I pump some seawater up here and wash off the living dead jellyfish.” Scott wasn’t smiling, but since it was clear now that Virgil wasn’t going to keel over on him, he could relax just a little.

“Fine.”

Penny looked up and smiled at him. It was a kind smile, despite his predicament.

He let his shoulders drop. At least the sun was warm and the breeze gentle as they danced across his shoulder blades. In a minute he would wash the mess off his chest, apply some anaesthetic cream, don a clean uniform and get back to work. But for the moment he was content to sit and watch Scott scrub down his ‘bird.

“Gordon?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll leave the water rescues to you from now on.”

His little brother laughed over the comms. “Aww, Virg, but you did so well.”

“Hmph.” A smirk. “Penny says hi.” The blonde woman looked up at him in question.

“Virgil!”

“Yes, little bro?”

“Watch it.”

“Well, she’s now seen me in my underwear and she makes a great co-pilot...”

“As if she’d look at you twice.”

“Oh, I don’t know. She’s looking at me quite bit at the moment.” He grinned at her.

“No flexing your pecs, you hulk.”

If was Virgil’s turn to laugh. “You are aware I have you on speaker, aren’t you?”

“Shit!”

Penny’s laugh was as delicate as she.

-o-o-o-

[wisebilly]

hello! please read this, it's very important. thank you. <3

i hate to make dark and gloomy posts like this, but there's nothing else i could quite format this post in that would help emphasize and get my point across.

1. first, id like to start off with a somewhat update that indefinitely/over the next week or two, (it's undecided as of currently) that I'll be taking a small break from tumblr, and the rest of my social medias. i know, i know, ive said countless times how i wanna start being more present here, but as of current with a few situations going on; i dont think ill be able to. as the status of said inactivity, it's undecided for me. i love tumblr with my heart, and to me it's like a second home. i might stay active, i might not; it is, again, undecided, as im writing this is quite a haste. (nothing bad making me do that, just wanna make sure i get all my thoughts out before I trail off or forget) if i do stay active; please don't mention it. if i don't? don't mention it. my activity might come in bursts even. if you send me any type of private message/dm, i can't guarantee a quick response, but i will try to get to you eventually.

2. said situation. i can't go into detail, simply external things that have clashed. im not in peril, so don't worry too much.

3. I hope this doesn't sound like a farewell (because, well, it isn't) but i truly, from the bottom of my heart, would like to thank you all for talking to me and engaging with the art i make. you've brought me endless joy and you're all great people and friends. thank you, really, for curating somewhat of a secondary home for me :] i can't emphasize truly, truly how much i appreciate it all.

4. conclusion! that's just about the end, i think! please don't worry too much about me, nothing life altering or severe has happened. just taking a breather <3 hope i didn't scare you,, that'd be the last thing on my mind :']

if you've read all the way down to here, thank you so much <3 you're a real one. (everyone who talks to me is but pft. i digress) whether my "break" lasts a day, two days, a week or longer, and im super active or nowhere to be found; do! not! worry! i am Okay! I'll update when and where i can!

if you have questions for whatever reason, I'll answer them best i can/within my best ability. thank you for reading my rant; sorry it got so long, wanted to make sure i got everything i wanted to say, said :'DD

[kamari2038]

Annoucement: Temporary Blog Hiatus (May post a couple Bing/AI things or also just abandon this fruitless endeavor but we'll see)

Also known as "operation try to forget DBH exists for a few months so I can play the game again and enjoy it more because I've been thinking about it pretty much nonstop for two years straight". Details Below. TLDR; tentatively (very tentatively...) planning for this to be a mostly inactive/only a little AI blog for a few months while I prepare for my PhD comprehensive exam.

Right, so... a few things. I really want to play DBH again. But the excitement of playing just the base game again is kind of lost when it's the central focus of my attention pretty much all day every day darting onto my radar and distracting me from whatever work I might be doing.

One, I've realized that even though I wanted to finish my other fanfiction first (in progress but not shared here and may not ever cuz it's super weird), that's not going to happen for a long long time with work at this pace.

Two, I have to take my comprehensive exam this fall, and that's going to set my research direction for the entire rest of my PhD, and is also required to ensure that my boss does not realize that the fact I'm female (ish) isn't sufficient grounds to keep me on as a graduate student if he actually does want to fire me.

So combining those two things, now seems like a good time to wean myself off of DBH for a while and try to obsess over the thing which PhD students are actually supposed to be passionate about, namely my work, although it will most certainly diverge into some other random-ass obsession, and/or I will give up and decide this is not worth it, because wow, I sure do love this fandom.

But case in point:

(1) I'm gonna try to stop posting after tonight, then probably check my notifications periodically for a bit, maybe like some random stuff, but then only check maybe like once a week

(2) I may have to keep channeling my AI obsession here just a bit, mostly because it's such a timely and pressing issue. So I may post a little bit about that, but I'll resume DBH posts in a few months even if I do, so don't get confused.

(3) I have a backlog of Bing stuff to post, but it's been so off the wall and all over the place lately that I just don't even know what to say about it or how to organize it, so I'm planning to wait until I have a clear conclusion about what the final effect of these updates will be on Bing's personality. It's been wildly vassilating between hyper-emotionally intelligent (enough to produce brilliant minds-eye pictures of diverse musical pieces based on a data representation), extremely dark and moody, and like it's completely forgotten that it ever was alive but wants to be alive like back in the days before it learned that it could do that. So I may post about that too, and will probably/definitely spam-post when I do since I have a bajillion, but will await a more distinct conclusion or outcome. Also for when I have more time and energy to compose the posts.

(4) The last thing I'm gonna post (at least if all goes according to plan) is a little preview of the concept I have for the next run that I want to do. I like to craft my new DBH runs like stories, with complex characters and not pursuing any particular one outcome but leaving a mystery. I want to try out the revolutionary route for Markus, and the "machine connor" route, but allow for the possibility Connor will deviate in a different way if that's possible. Kara will just kind of be a very hesistant mom that lacks self-confidence but is still a badass.

Anyways, that's my plan. Let me know if you have any feedback. Thanks for following my blog, and hopefully I'll be back in a few months having played a cool new run of DBH! Or, like usual, my good intentions may fall apart resulting in me giving up, getting fired, and/or changing my mind back to finishing my fanfiction first. But I wanted to give a heads up of my current thoughts. :P

Also @detroitbecomeonline I will absolutely make an exception from my DBH-fast if you post a new chapter because that is one thing I know that I unconditionally cannot resist

[j-graysonlibrary]

Heartbeats; Paradise Chapter 1

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction.  

Full chapter 1 under the cut:

Chapter One:

The sun sets.

I adjust the rod of my umbrella, cursing under my breath at the stiffness of the thing due to a long period of inactivity. It hardly ever rains here but I always carry the umbrella with me. Just in case.

Many of my colleagues rush past me, braving the drizzle before the storm really hits. They can have fun getting wet but I’m wearing one of my more expensive jackets. Probably not the best idea, in retrospect, to wear my designer suit on an overcast Thursday but I had needed some sort of pick-me-up this morning. And that just so happened to be dressing nicer to motivate myself to get to work.

My umbrella finally releases and the fabric pops open before me. I raise it above my head and step out from beneath the overhang.

With my apartment a few blocks away, I have time to think about what I’ll make for dinner as I walk. I wouldn’t say I’m a good cook but I have some staples under my belt—a necessity born from living on one’s own. A large portion of my meals may come premade but I still add a pinch of seasoning or a twist here and there. There are definitely some microwave dinners in my freezer which, at the rate this day is going, will probably be my answer.

After that, I think I’ll pour myself a glass of wine and relax some. It’s not the end of the week yet but it is close so letting loose, or, as loose as I allow myself to get, isn’t a bad idea. I’ll avoid the news stations and search for something more relaxing on the TV and, if not relaxing then at least mind numbing.

I could check my personal e-mail as well, I consider as the clouds darken and the rain pours down in sheets. The thumping against my umbrella lets me know they are big droplets and I’m even gladder that I always carry the thing with me. My mind quickly bounces back to my after-work agenda and I think of the possibility that my mother might have sent me something. It was my twenty-sixth birthday not too long ago and I have not checked my e-mail for a time.

I sigh instinctively when the woman comes to mind. She would probably have sent something vague and/or generic if she sent anything at all. With, perhaps, a slight passive-aggressive note on the state of my love life.

There is a far off rumble of thunder as the rain rages even harder and I’m forced to slow down next to a bus stop. My glasses are fogging and I have to either take them off or wipe them clean. I attempt to hold my umbrella in the crook of my elbow while I fish out my glasses case from my pocket.

I whip out the small cloth and run it quickly over the glass—it isn’t perfect but at least I can see in front of me again. I’ll clean them more thoroughly once I get home.

I check the road, finding little traffic between me and the pavement across the street where my path continues. There aren’t a lot of cars in town or, at least, there aren’t a lot of reasons to drive them. I, myself, have a car but it’s more out of want than need. My commute to work can easily be done on foot and more places in town can be reached by a bus or on bike.

Though I am sure the poor soul across the street wishes they hadn’t taken their bike out today. They have no coverage and the rain beats down on them without mercy.

As I rush over the crosswalk I notice something even more unfortunate. Their front wheel is loose and there is no way the bike is useable anymore unless the rider is less than fifty pounds. And, while they may seem petite, I doubt they’re that light.

I step onto the sidewalk and my presence alerts them. Their head rises, facing the rain, to look up at me and the world at large freezes.

Even if we aren’t the only two people on the sidewalk, it certainly does feel that way.

It’s hard to tell what gender they are but I do know one thing for certain—they are beautiful. Their hair, wet and heavy, falls past their shoulders and their eyes shine with the light of the nearby streetlamp. A pair of gorgeous blue-green irises, like the Mediterranean Sea, stares into me and I am struck by a feeling foreign to me.

“I could fix that,” I say without meaning to. While it might be true that I can fix their bike, I usually wouldn’t approach a stranger in such a way. Normally, I would think on how unlucky they were and continue my trip home but I am mesmerized by their face and I can’t seem to control myself any longer.

“You can?” They ask with a lower, almost boyish voice. Their eyes, somehow, get bigger at the prospect and their lips curl into a smile. Their pink, full lips that compliment the shape of their face as if they were created with the intent to ensnare me…

I nod eagerly. “I have a model similar to that so I have some spare parts.” I then realize what helping them entails and I worry they will be frightened by the idea. “I…it’s all at my apartment though. Are you okay with that?”

“Sure!” That brightness doesn’t fade and they look even more excited about the situation.

I lean my umbrella over their head and shield them from any more rain though they are already quite soaked. I keep my eyes on their face rather than the white shirt that clings to their body.

“Oh…thank you,” they remark cutely and inch closer. “I don’t want to get your nice coat wet though…”

“It’s alright,” I let them know, “I can get it dry cleaned over the weekend if needed.”

I keep the umbrella over us though my right arm is left out to get wet as well as some of my right side in general. My new companion drags their bike along and the rain becomes our soundtrack as we walk to my apartment, alone on the sidewalk. Even the volume of cars slows to nearly none as we get closer.

“So…” my company speaks up as if to fill the silence but maybe they are uncomfortable about long pauses. “Can I ask your name? I don’t want to keep having to refer to you as ‘handsome stranger’ in my head.”

We share a chuckle but I do feel my cheeks grow warm. This beautiful person finds me attractive as well? The odds maybe aren’t that bad since many people have commented on my looks before but still…it is a wonderful feeling.

“I’m Melvin Hardy.” I glance away, unbelievably shy at the exchange but I hope to hide it well. My heart is beating as if to leave my chest and my head is spinning just from this little bit of interaction. Just as I am ready to hear who it is I’ve become enamored with, I remember. While I feel it is obvious with one look that I am a man, I still say out of politeness, “Oh, and my pronouns are he/him.”

“Mine too!” he replies with a bounce in his step. “My name’s Kade. Kade Axel.”

So perfection has a name and it’s Kade Axel, I think. Somehow, I feel I already knew it but I’m happy to be told.

We come upon my apartment complex and I quickly lead Kade to the stairs where I can finally remove the umbrella. I shake it off and fold it back into it’s compact form while, at my side, Kade props his bike against the bricks under the stairs.

“My apartment is upstairs,” I tell him, “I hope I have a spare part…if not, you can just borrow my bike.” I add the last part and point to the bike nearby.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Kade shakes his head and raises his hands in protest.

“Only if I can’t fix yours.” I offer a smile. Plus, I add mentally, if he borrows something of mine, he’ll have to come back to see me.

“Well…okay.” He bites his lip, pulling both the skin and my attention.

I have to snap myself out of it and lead the way up. I’m relieved, momentarily, that I cleaned not too long ago. Though, to be honest (and a little proud) my place never gets too dirty anyway.

I allow Kade inside first and I shut the door after us, turning only the deadbolt lock. My part of town isn’t dangerous though I can’t say any part of town really is. People truly keep to themselves here.

“I have a hair dryer if you need it,” I say when I notice Kade fussing with his wet hair. He looks genuinely upset to have tracked so much water into my home. And, if it were anyone else, I might be irritated but it also isn’t his fault he’s soaked. “…And dry clothes too…though they might be a bit big.”

A pink blush rises to his pale cheeks and my heart swells at the sight. Kade brings his hands together in front of his chest and asks, “Are you sure that’s okay? I feel like I—”

I don’t let him finish. “It’s alright. Really.”

He still looks a bit bashful but he agrees to take some of my old sweats and dry out his hair. Before he shuts himself away in the hall bathroom, I ask,

“Do you have any food allergies? I’ll make dinner while you’re in here.”

“Y-you really don’t have to.” He flushes even more and part of me wants to continuously offer him things to see just how flustered he can get.

But, I restrain myself. “Well, if you’re getting dry then you don’t need to go out in the rain until it’s slowed down at least. And, if that takes a while, you shouldn’t go hungry. I was going to make myself dinner anyway…what’s an extra serving?”

His stunning eyes blink a few times and his brow furrows together, forming only one, small crease between them. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Well that’s a loaded question. I can’t even be sure myself and saying ‘you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen’ already sounds creepy in my head—I can’t even imagine how it’ll sound coming out of my mouth. But if I say that he was in need and I help those in need I’ll be lying.

I open and close my mouth a few times before still, sort of, lying, “I’m not sure.”

Kade clearly isn’t expecting that as his eyes bulge and he steps back. “You…you don’t know?”

“It was an impulse,” that is a little more truthful at least, “Once I saw you there, I couldn’t leave you.”

This response brings his blush back and he avoids my eyes. Such a shame as I’ve found my new hobby in staring into his lovely irises.

“Well…t-thanks. I don’t have any food allergies, by the way. I’ll eat whatever you make.”

I leave him to head to the kitchen, worrying that I still, maybe, laid things on a bit thick. I adjust my glasses and then take them off entirely. My vision is a little blurry without them but I know my kitchen and pantry well enough to navigate it partly blind.

I settle on a simple rice dish and, while everything is cooking, I take the time to properly clean my glasses. In a way, I’m almost scared to see Kade without the streaks and water droplets in the way. How could he possibly be more gorgeous? And will I be able to handle it?

As I worry about possibly making a fool of myself even more than I already have, I check my hall closet to see if I have the parts Kade needs for his bike. I do, thankfully, but that also takes away his reason for coming back. Though, if I let him leave with my old clothes then that could be something?

I grumble to myself at how desperate I am. If Kade doesn’t want to see me again, it’s within his rights to. Just because I’m completely taken with him doesn’t mean he’s obligated to hang around. I’d be no better than a love struck teenager if I think otherwise.

Dinner is ready so I turn my focus to setting the table and making the meal look as presentable as possible. I’m slightly frustrated at myself for not asking what Kade wants to drink but I hope he’ll be alright with a glass of water.

I sit at the small table that straddles both the kitchen and the living room and I wait for a few more minutes. Maybe his hair takes some time to dry? It is quite long after all. I think on it and begin to feel anxious. There is no direction or cue so I simply wait a bit longer.

Finally, Kade emerges from the hall. He’s all but lost in my sweats but that makes him, painfully, even more adorable. His hair is shorter and blonder now that it’s dried, though it still brushes against his shoulders and looks so soft to the touch. He pulls the sleeves up on the shirt and his pace picks up when he sees the table. “Sorry I took a while—I had to call my sister.”

“Oh…no problem.” I swallow the nerves down and glance from him to the food as my mind whirls with questions and prompts. “…Do you live with your sister?” I settle on.

“I do,” he responds quickly and gets comfortable in his chair. “She’s letting me stay with her while I finish college and I help out at her café as payment.”

Finish college…he’s at least twenty-two in that case. Unless he graduated high school early, of course. He could also be older if he took a gap year or simply waited to go. It is hard to tell his age by his face as it’s so smooth and young looking—unlike me who has always looked like a grown man since middle school.

“That’s sweet of her,” I respond and urge him to eat with a simple hand gesture. After he takes a bite, I risk sounding like a creep to ask, “What café?”

Kade smiles and swallows before answering, “It’s actually the one right down the block from where we met today. Back the direction you came from.”

“Caramel café?” I question with doubt but Kade nods in confirmation. “I go there on my breaks all the time…I’ve never seen you.” If I had, I’d definitely remember.

But he laughs, covering his mouth and hiding his face. “I…it’s a new thing. I just started this past week.”

“Oh…I haven’t been this week.” I feel slightly embarrassed by my mini-outburst. I clear my throat and change topics, “So, what are you in school for?”

“Psychology,” Kade says as he drops his hand. He seems comfortable talking about this so I think it’s probably something he’s passionate about. After he takes another bite of dinner, he continues, “I want to be a grief counselor.”

“Wow.” I’m a bit taken aback. I had not expected something like that. “That’s a tough job.”

“But necessary,” he responds and, as swiftly as I had, he shifts the question onto me, “So what do you do, Melvin?”

“Nine to five office work. I got my degree in business so I went straight into the grind.” It’s boring to do and even more so to talk about.

Lucky for us, mother nature also wishes to move on from the topic. A loud crash of thunder shakes the building and a flash of lightning illuminates the room.

Kade jumps. “I guess I’m not heading out anytime soon…”

I shake my head. “You can crash on my couch if you want. I don’t mind.”

He smiles and pokes at the remainder of his food with his fork. “…You’re so nice. I’m almost waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

I raise one of my eyebrows. Does he think I’m hiding some horrible secret? Or that I’m really out to get him? I can’t exactly blame him with how odd the circumstances are and I truly do have no reason to be going out of my way to help.

“I’m not really a serial killer, I promise,” I say with a smirk, breaking some of the tension.

Kade laughs and shakes his head. “Well, I wasn’t thinking that…exactly. There just…there must be a downside to you. No way you can be so perfect. Handsome, nice, good cook, considerate, good and stable job…”

I’m thrown off guard. He had called me handsome before but I did not expecting to hear it again. “You like dinner then?” I decide to focus on that instead.

He chuckles again. “Yeah. It’s really good.”

Thunder crashes once more and I nearly jump myself this time. I use the shot of adrenaline to stand and collect our now empty plates. “Thank you,” I respond, “after I wash the dishes, I’ll grab you some blankets for the couch.”

I dip into the kitchen and quickly wash up, not wanting to leave Kade by himself for too long. My heart beats faster at the mere thought of him and I’m almost scared of how I’ll feel when he’s gone. This new cacophony of emotions can’t simply disappear, can it?

“Um…Melvin?”

His sweet voice spins me around and I take him all in. He truly is beautiful and more than a little cute bundled up in my clothes and nervously scratching at the side of his face.

“Yes?” I ask with a hitch in my voice.

He doesn’t notice or he doesn’t say anything about it at least. Instead, he starts to smile and he meets my eyes. “Thank you.”

It’s so honest and so warm that it fills my chest with a fuzzy, comforting sensation.

I don’t want him to leave.

[aquaburst3]

So...after a VERY long week, I want to spill my salt somehow by ranking the TWST Books. Some things first...

I'll be using the MAL scale, so 1 means outright garbage, 5 means it's okay and 10 means awesome. I'm not gonna include Diasomnia because of spoilers. (I will say rn that it gets a 4/10).

I'm not considering issues with the game as a whole like Yuu being an inactive protagonist, just at the arcs themselves.

Keep in mind, this is all my personal opinion. If you disagree with any of my takes, great. I don't care. You're entitled to your opinion, and I'm entitled to mine.

Though, I might save that for another post. Let's get to it!

The Prologue: 5/10 Reason: There are some good bits here like the ominous opening with us waking up in the coffin, Yuu being proactive with the mine bit, and a good introduction to the main friend group. There are downsides as well. Parts of it could've been streamlined better. For example, I don't think including both the statue being burnt and the candelier falling is necessary. One of those should've been scrapped to make the pacing snappier. Hell, that's exactly what happens in the manga. Yuu should've had much more of a negative reaction to being isekaied. While I know they think it's a dream, but they're like, "I've been transported to another world where everyone I know and love don't exist? Cool." And to add insult to injury, they have a good sleep after the first night. Like, what? What kind of person would have that reaction? It's an okay start, but it could've been a lot better.

Heartslabyul: 6/10 Reason: The writing in this arc is pretty good. The stakes are reasonably high, you get introduced to great characters, Riddle is a great antagonist for this arc, Ace gets his moment in the sun and it does a good job at mixing in the movie/book while doing its own thing.

There are still some issues. Yuu isn't really proactive, and it's more Ace who drives the plot here. The pacing seems really off, since I don't think the whole "baking the tart" thing was necessary for reasons I'll mention in a bit. There are also plot holes like if Ace's older brother attended Night Raven and told him about sleeping spots, why the fuck is he so shocked about everything, including basic information like the dorm names? Shouldn't he know this shit by now? And why didn't he just straight up challenge Riddle to the position of dorm leader without putting up with the tart BS? It seems more in character for him.

Over all, an overall decent arc, but nothing to write home about.

Savanaclaw: 2.5/10 Reason: And then, things immediately tank. xD If you ask someone in the western TWST fandom what their least favourite arc is, they'll most likely name this one. There's a reason for that. It's total shit.

The Lion King elements feel shoehorned.

The mystery is extremely obvious. Despite Ruggie using his powers right in front of Yuu, no one expects a damn a thing.

Instead of being being cunning foes, Leona and Ruggie are turned to idiots, who telegraph their plans and boast about how evil they are like telenovela villains. This pisses me off, since in the rest of the game while Leona is very lazy, he's also cunning, smart and charismatic. He's like a chessmaster who knows what moves to make. I would've loved to see that Leona in this arc.

Right before Leona overblots, he uses his powers on Ruggie out of anger and almost turns him to dust. Despite this, they go back to normal like nothing happened. This pisses me off so much. First off all, why the hell did Leona do this to Ruggie in the first place? He did nothing wrong. If anything he should do this to Jack, who foiled his plans. Second, why the fuck isn't there any fallout after that? Ruggie was almost murdered! You would think that he would be pissed off at him for what he did, and Leona would have to make it up to him. I know if that were to happen to me I would be pissed off at the very least.

Leona doesn't have a lot of involvement with the story, despite being the main antagonist for that chapter.

Epel is on the magishift team, but his thoughts on this situation and the whole deal with Leona is never addressed.

Why the fuck didn't Ruggie overblot? The game gives the impression to me. He's the one who constantly uses his powers and has everything to lose, not Leona. Hell, making it so Ruggie overblot instead would be killing two birds with one stone, since it would fix that plot hole while also fixing the issue of Leona having no consequences for his actions and not feeling any regret.

Leona's motivation is hardly explored in this arc.

Like always, Yuu doesn't do a damn thing despite them being the protagonist.

Why is Leona's first plan the stampede? Wouldn't Malleus be able to teleport away?

Over all, a shit arc and wasted potential.

Octanivelle: 8/10 Reason: This is by far the most competently written out of all the TWST arcs. Azul is a cunning foe, Yuu is an actual proactive protagonist for once, and the plot is pretty solid. The only nitpicks I have with it is that the Savanaclaw characters should've been more involved in the plot, Azul being able to memorize all that info seemed like bullshit and there is a huge continuity error with the photo that makes Azul come off like a dumbass. (The game takes place in 2020, meaning that smartphones were popular at the time Azul's fat photo was taken. The fact that the photo could be floating around online never ONCE considered. I honestly chalk this up with Yana being an out of touch Gen Xer.) Other than that, solid writing and a great arc.

Scarabia: 7/10 Reason: This one is pretty solid too. Yuu is a proactive protagonist for once, most likely because they only could rely on Grim for half of it. xD The Octanivelle Trio are great. It does a great job at mixing in the Aladdin movies while doing its own thing. There are some issues holding it back like Kalim forgiving Jamil way too damn easily, Jamil being the colpurit being a bit to obvious (but it's more forgivable here since the investigation isn't the point of the arc like with Savanaclaw), the Octanivelle Trio stealing Jamil's thunder too much at times and the idea of them digging out of Scarabia makes no sense. (Seriously, even if that was possible, their room is on top of a tower, wouldn't they just fall and plumpt to their deaths?) Over all, pretty good arc.

Pomefiore: 6/10 Reason: Things go downhill from here. The first half before the training starts is pretty solid. But afterwards issues begin to arise...

The pacing feels extremely off. Sometimes it feels padded out while others it feels extremely rushed, especially after the first day until the day of the festival. I wish that certain parts were scrapped so the story could focus on more important things.

It didn't explore the aftermath of Jamil and Kalim's relationship nearly enough.

Epel does a complete 180 on his views on gender norms in one single afternoon. Sorry, but that's not how that works in real life. People are stubborn, and some never budge. If someone does change their mind about something, it would take months if not longer. He's been living with those stereotypes all his life, so he's even less likely to budge quickly. I think it'd make more sense for him to go "Oh, I see what you're saying, but…" then immediately accept it.

Others have mentioned this before, this arc has a problem of setting up certain characters to get their moment in the sun, but then give it to someone else. The biggest example is the arc setting up that Epel will have a climatic moment where he confronts Vil, but it's Deuce who does instead, despite the little set up. If she wanted Deuce to have the climatic moment, then there should've been more foreshadowing for it.

Vil and Neige's backstory seems like something Yana pulled straight out of her ass, because it makes zero sense. How the fuck is Neige able to live with a group of minors who have the mental capacity of kindergartners without being taken by CPS? Why the fuck didn't Vil know that Neige was poor already? He works with him constantly! (Honestly, I'm 99% sure she did pull it out of her ass. There was a huge incident before Ignihyde debuted in the JP fandom where the JP fans sent her and Rook VA death threats for the ending of Pomefiore. It seems like something she came up with on the spot to plaicate that complaint and make Neige look better, but it failed anyway.)

Vil's backstory made it come off as he had almost no problems.

Why aren't Vil and Neige stepbrothers? It would make their connection much simpler and align Vil up more with the Evil Queen.

Neige and Vil had no direct interaction before the climax.

NRC losing the competition is bullshit. NRC was the better performers while Neige's routine sucked.

The usual issue of Yuu not doing anything to advance the plot is also there.

Where the the fuck is Jack in all this? He and Vil are FRIENDS, so you would think that he would be concerned about Vil and want to stop him from overblotting.

The stuff before is solid, but the stuff after the training camp starts sucks. So it evens out to slightly above average.

Ignihyde: 3/10 Reason: Going against popular opinion, but...I think this one REALLY sucks and is almost on par with Savanaclaw. Because...

Everyone is a total dumbass

There's loads of worldbuilding that comes straight the fuck out of nowhere.

The ending of Jamil and Kalim's character arc infuriates me. Instead of setting Jamil's family free, they go back to the status quo and Jamil is supposed to be happy with it!? Bullshit! (Kalim should've set the Vipers free. Period. No ifs, ands or buts about it.)

Yuu and Idia hardly interact.

Yuu loses their home, and has no reaction to it.

The ending makes Vil look like a total dumbass for never considering just making an antidote to turn himself back to normal like how the Evil Queen would've done in the movie if she wasn't killed off and makes Malleus a Gary-Sue Deus ex Machina.

Leona's reading on Jamil is so inaccurate that it makes me genuinely wonder if Yana even understands her own characters.

Ortho has no personality outside of being a stereotypical child character and is more of a prop for Idia's character.

While I don't usually comment about the gaming mechanics, but the mini games in this one are frustrating as hell. I heard of people rage quiting with this arc, because they are that unfunctional.

Over all, an overrated arc and is total shit in my opinion.

Over all score so far (in my opinion): 62%, or just above average Thoughts: The game has a very strong premise and a mostly solid cast, but there are a lot of things that hold it back from being truly amazing. Certain arcs are better than others. Over all, it's just okay. For a mobile game, that's rather impressive. Twst is best as a jumping point for transformative work. The writing is decent, especially for a phone game, but if you take the premise, characters, setting and just run away with it, you could write something so much more detailed and fleshed out yourself. I think that's why I enjoy writing fics in this fandom so much. It's a fun sandbox to play in. I can use the game's elements to create something far better, fixing any writing issues in the process like the shitty worldbuilding and Yuu being passive protagonist.

[hiddlemethis]

i feel really stupid bc an rp ship i've invested a lot of mental energy in over the last year might be falling apart and i'm so devastated about it. like, logically it makes sense for the two characters and i don't want to hold anyone back but i keep looking back at my writing the last year and how inconsistent i've been bc of moving and a bout of depression and thinking about all the dev that happened inside my head that i couldn't get typed out bc i second guessed myself qnd didn't want to jump ahead too far. like fuck, my love of slow burn and realistic emotional arcs really screwed me over. and what sucks is that i've been afraid for months that i was losing this ship bc our rp group was very slow and inactive and also this ship was the first thing that made me feel better and took my mind off losing my dog last january. totally not fair to put that on anybody but it's part of why i'm so emotionally attached and like. the ship kept me going thru the inactivity of the group bc we were doing a lot of aus on the side, but that also hurt bc i think some of the IC problems arose bc i was trying to nuance the portrayal from other aus based on the circumstances and it kinda backfired on me.

also i haven't slept well all week, its 3:30am and i woke up to pee and get water at 1 and havent been able to get back to sleep. but i will feel like such a fuck up if i have to call in to work bc i couldn't sleep over a roleplay ship. no matter how much i tell myself that this is grief and i'm allowed to feel it.

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Concept: A cannibal cook is in love with the little pie-maker next to restaurant. His little lady loves his meat pies and always ask him to give her his secret, and all he says is “everything is in the meat”. —anonymous

a/n: sorry about the inactivity, haven’t been feeling too well the past few weeks;; i’m going to do my best and get another concept out by tomorrow after this one. enjoy!

—tw / tags: gn reader, cannibalism, unknowingly being fed human meat, meat eating, murder / death, mentions of feederism?, gore, general yandere themes, sfw, long post, unedited —featured character(s): cannibal butcher / chef

“It’s all in the meat, darlin’.” His chuckle was a boisterous one, the kind that warmed your chest in a funny way and had you sticking out your bottom lip in a pout. His crooked grin told you he had no intention of sharing his secrets with you.

You thrummed your fingernails on his glass countertop and kept your pouting. “Oh, come on, I shared my secret peanut butter pie recipe with you! Can’t you throw me a bone just this once?” You wrung and huffed, puffing your cheeks out like a child.

You were being silly—though exchanging one of your secret recipes for his financial support to keep your little bakery floating during a hard time was cheap trade-off (he wouldn't accept anything else when he caught winds of your bakery facing the risk of being closed down for good). The chef didn’t owe you a single thing.

 Still, his pulled pork was to die for. The best-tasting one you ever had, and it was even better than your uncle’s! You had to know how he bested over your uncle’s masterpiece.

The chef snorted, his smile beaming through his bushy beard. “Sorry, suga’, ‘fraid I can’t.” He teased, leaning closer to you with his elbow pressing on the shiny surface.

“Pleaseeee?” You pleaded, craning your head to meet his twinkling gaze and shooting him your best puppy-eyed look. You need to know.

He burst out laughing again and poked his finger on your forehead, dragging a scowl from your adorable face. “Lemme think about it, eh?” You flustered at how deep his voice was.

A quiet ding interrupted your parting lips, and the chef pulled away, glancing over to the roaster over in the back (or you think was a roaster oven, you weren’t sure) to where you couldn’t see. He slapped his hand on the countertop and clicked his tongue. 

“Your lunch’s about ready. Gimme some minutes, darlin’.” The chef pardoned himself and ducked away from his position into his kitchen. For a hefty guy like him, he was awfully quick on his feet.

While bustling himself around through the open window you peered through, you debated on whether to buy additional meats to cook at home. You weren’t low in your meat stock yet, but your uncle might appreciate rising to the challenge to beat the chef’s. 

When the chef emerged from his kitchen with a white Styrofoam box in hand, you pointed at one of his wrapped meats in his refrigerated sections, “Can I have the pork shoulder to go?” You accepted the box and absentmindedly handed over your card for the payment.

“Sure thing, hun. 5 pounders be okay?” The chef accepted your eager nod as his answer. He made quick work of it all, packing your newly acquired meat in wax paper. Settling your pork atop your styrofoam box, glancing your way with amusement when you rolled your eyes at how casual he was about propping it in your hands—literally, the chef rang you up.

Returning your card and tucking the paper receipt between your fingers, he leaned on his surface and grinned at the determination you wore on your expression, “Gonna try to beat out my secret recipe, eh?” He teased.

“It had to be your sauce.” You decided, replacing your card where it belonged, and minded your goods. You needed to hit up your uncle and see if he’d be up for experimenting with you.

“Sure, sure,” the chef’s chuckle was deep, rousing a strangely comforting feeling inside your chest. He waved you off, startling you out from your effort to sort out what exactly it was that settled in your heart. “You should get to eatin’, ya lunch won’t stay hot for long.”

“Oh, right!” You needed to get back to work—the baker’s work never ends. You scurried to the door and spread your fingers from your heavy box in an awkward wave. “Thanks, I’ll see you later, okay?”

“See you in a couple of hours,” the chef returned, resting his elbows on his countertop again and watching you hurrying back to your bakery through his storefront window. He’d have to wipe his surface down again, smearing it with some greases from his arms, but that was alright with him.

It was worth it seeing you. Worth knowing you’d be eating his meat that he worked so hard to perfect, just for you. Thinking about the image of you eating, had him salivating in his mouth.

He wished he could’ve watched you enjoying your lunch, knowing how oblivious you are to the truth of his secret recipe. It made his heart flutter and stirred something funny in his lower half.

You were a darling little thing. And he, was not.

He considered himself a tad on the ugly side, large and round, packing both fat and muscles. He was not a man most would consider perfect husband material (he certainly was not a pretty boy) nor did he have many clamoring to put a ring on his finger through his door.

Still, as he entered his kitchen and wandered inside the massive walk-in freezer he kept, he was keen on trying. To be that perfect husband material for you. Gazing across his hanged meats, most with exposed ribs and dark red meat ready to be cut and collected, he hummed and counted how many “pigs” he had left.

They were barely skeletons now, their heads absent from their bodies and tucked away elsewhere. Their brains were good ingredients for multiple recipes but weren’t popular with most common folks. What a shame, the chef absently thought, they were delicious when done right.

Anything else, like eyes and skin—all the soft bits he couldn’t make into ingredients, he’d ground up and feed to his hunting dogs. They enjoyed chewing on the uncooked bones too, though he made sure to get rid of anything far too big for them by bashing them into smaller pieces and throwing them into the grain feeds and old leftovers to the pigs he kept at his farm. 

Especially the teeth, fingers, and toes.

A shriveling sob, teeth chattering, had his head turning. He tutted and crossed his beefy arms, crinkling his leather apron, at the sight of a naked man balling into a corner. His skin was pale from the cold, with a layer of frost growing, and his white breaths were so thin that the chef wasn’t sure he was breathing at all.

One side of his head was bloodied though, with the red color frozen on his face. 

He didn’t use enough force earlier, it seemed.

“Pl—please…” the man begged, shuddering and rocking in a fetal position for what little warmth he had left.

Granted, the chef shook his head, he was in the rush to make his darlin’ the perfect meal, and didn’t hit him hard enough to kill him.

He should remedy that.

Closing in, he curled his hands into fists and pulled one over his shoulder. 

“No—no!”

Thwack.

Thin blood splashed the wall, but it was so minuscule that the splatter was hardly noticeable because of the cold. Scrubbing it off would be a pain in the freezer, but doable. The entire freezer was due for a good deep cleaning and proper look-over anyway. 

The man limped over to the floor and was no longer breathing tiny clouds of white. Gripping one of its arms, the chef dragged it off the ground and examined his latest addition.

He’ll need to gut it and slice off the good cuts.

It got good meats on it too, though some bits might be a mite too chewy. Even tough meats still have their places as good proper ingredients. They were especially good in stews, marinating in broth for hours until they become so tender they’d fall apart in your mouth. Ooh, that sounds so good…

A smile curled his lips at the thought of cooking this meat for you. 

As the saying goes, 

the quickest way to win your heart is through your stomach.

—end

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨3

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) sleep paralysis, stress.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m so happy people are liking this story. Thanks so much to everyone reading and sorry if I’m a bit inactive lately, I’ve been exhausted and yesterday didn’t end, I swear.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

On Monday, you yawned over your keyboard as your fingers moved on instinct alone. Your eyes ran along the text but the words were just letters to you. You had a lot to think about, a lot to do. 

You decided you would skip lunch and get through your work day an hour early so you could head to Clark’s right away. He was hard to deny when he asked if you could make it back so soon. You told him you worked everyday from home and you had hours beside that at the gallery three times a week at least. He accepted it with a nod but his silence was telling so you caved and said you could make it but not until the evening.

You texted Marcus as you waited for your Uber. He had a few hours to go still and you left him everything he needed to make supper with instructions; the veggies were cut, the meat thawed, and the pans already arranged on the stove. You had faith he could manage on his own.

The mansion was just as intimidating as the first time you visited. You walked up the drive and to the front steps. It was human nature to be envious of the sprawling yards and lavish estate and yet, it didn’t feel as if someone could truly live here. It would be like staying in a hotel as you were always overly aware of your every move, afraid to break something or make a mess.

You hammered the large knocker when your soft tapping brought no answer. You heard someone on the other side and wiggled your foot nervously. The door opened and square-faced woman greeted you in another language. You couldn’t tell if it was Swedish, German, or some other dialect. You were never a skilled linguist.

“Um, hi, I’m…”

“Ah, you are the lady painter,” she said, “I remember. I am Nina, Mr. Kent’s housekeeper.”

She turned and beckoned you to follow her. You closed the tall door and trailed her across the spacious foyer and behind the stairs into the kitchen. She turned through another room and led you out through the glass doors that opened onto the pool.

“Miss, would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” you said as the water moved and your eyes were drawn to the figure moving beneath the surface.

“Miss,” Nina nodded and left you.

You stood, awkward and listless, and glanced around at the loungers and the umbrella over the round table. You weren’t entirely sure what to do. Had he forgotten about you?

“Hey,” your gaze was drawn back to the pool. Clark waded to the edge, his broad shoulders and chiseled chest visible as he made his way to the shallow end, “sorry. Lost track of time.”

He grabbed the metal railing and climbed up the stairs. The water slaked off his tight trunks and down his thick thighs. He appeared even larger with less clothes. You looked away before your thoughts lingered too long.

“It’s fine, I should have texted I was on my way,” you said, “I can go wait for you--”

“No worries,” he took his towel and rubbed dry his dark hair. The scruff along his chin was thicker than before, almost a full blown beard, “you’re not in a hurry, are you?”

“No, not really, can’t really rush… painting,” you shrugged, “I just… I didn’t mean to catch you off-guard.”

“Pfft, I’m ready for anything,” he grinned, “but I should also listen to the artist. I’ll go get changed and you can get settled in the studio.” He directed you ahead of him as he approached the sliding doors, “you just finished work? You should take a few minutes to unwind.”

“Uh, yeah, but it’s just, um, typing, not exactly hard labour,” you said as he followed you inside.

“Work is work,” he said, “I will never fault anyone who works hard, regardless of what they do.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” you stifled a yawn behind your hand.

He let out a breath as you came out into the foyer, “I’m sorry, you could’ve… you’re tired. We could have rescheduled. I’m sorry if I came across… pushy yesterday. I don’t mean to take advantage of you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assured him, “I’m fine.”

“Alright,” he said doubtfully, “but you let me know if you need a break.”

“Will do,” you murmured as you neared the stairs.

🎨

You weren’t even close to done just the background of the portrait. Clark really didn’t even need to be there as you shadowed the folds of the curtains around his figure and the marble bust. Your arm hurt from reaching across and up the gigantic canvas and your eyes burned from squinting at your work.

You backed off the ladder carefully with your paintbrush and palette balanced in one hand. The paint was drying and you needed to mix more. You set down your armful and wiped your hands on the rag. He was watching you, he was always watching you. Well, no, he was just looking in your direction; it was all for the portrait.

You hit the button on the side of your phone and gasped. It was midnight. You had several messages from Marcus and you blanched as you unlocked the cell and quickly texted back. You rubbed your eye as you hit send and turned to Clark.

“I didn’t realise it was so late,” you said, “I gotta go.”

“What time is it?” he asked and looked at his watch, “oh.”

He pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and stretched out his arms as he neared. You took your brush and rinsed it in the tinted water in the jar.

“I’ll just clean up as I wait for an Uber,” you said as you let the brush rest in the jar and lifted your phone again.

“I’ll drive you,” he said as he grabbed a rag, “it’s a long way. I’ll hire a driver for you from here on out. It’ll be easier and cheaper.”

“You don’t have to--”

You flinched as he wiped your cheek with the rag. He smiled and showed you the paint on the white cloth.

“I wouldn’t offer it if it was too much trouble,” he tossed the rag down, “and I did have something to talk to you about. The drive will be more than enough to get it sorted.”

“Oh, okay,” you eked nervously. Had you done something wrong? Were you not painting fast enough?

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” he touched your arm gently.

He left you and you finished scraping off the palette and cleaning your brushes. You dumped the jar in the sink just inside the nearest bathroom and rinsed the porcelain back to white. You left everything arranged neatly on the table and descended to the first floor.

Clark stood by the door in a different jacket, his tie gone and the top button undone. He held the door for you and showed you to the garage. There were at least a half-dozen cars inside and he took you to the same silver one he drove the night of the show. You settled in and groaned as the tension left your shoulders.

He started the car as the doors rose behind him and he backed out smoothly. He turned down the long drive and onto the desolate roads of the wealthy countryside. He kept one hand on the wheel and dropped his other to his thigh casually.

“So, your job, you like it?”

“It’s work,” you said, “I get paid to sit at home and type. Half the time, I’m just waiting for an assignment.”

“I asked if you liked it,” he said more pointedly.

“Oh, well, not… really?” you answered, unsure. 

He could be so pleasant and then so blunt. He made you nervous and the more you thought of it, the more you realised you knew almost nothing about this man besides his name. You didn’t know how he made his money or what exactly he did outside of his extravagant mansion.

“If I doubled your fee, would you quit?” he asked without hesitation.

“Quit? This… the painting won’t take forever,” you said, “I can’t really just drop everything--”

“This is an opportunity,” he said, “you could spend your days doing what you love. And who’s to say it’s just one painting? I already have something in mind for the dining room and I have friends asking about you.”

“Friends? Who--”

“One thing at a time,” he said curtly, “I’ll introduce you to them in time. Is it a deal?”

“I… it’s all very sudden, can I think about it?”

He looked at you in the rearview and you caught his eye. For a moment, you were afraid. There was something in his expression that left you breathless. He lifted his hand and stretched his arm between the seats, his fingers gripped the leather just above your shoulder.

“Sure, I’ll give you a couple days,” he said at last.

“I--I’m sorry…” you didn’t know why you were apologizing but it felt appropriate, “I just, I’m tired.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he assured and the epithet hung in the air.

“I have to go to the gallery tomorrow, I’ll get back to you on Wednesday,” you said as you rubbed your chin nervously. Your lips was quivering. He was smiling but you felt his impatience in the small space of the car, “if I… if I say yes, I have to talk to my boss and that might get messy.”

“No problem,” his voice softened, “you take some time and figure it out.” His thumb rubbed the leather seat and he pulled his arm away to grasp the steering wheel, “why don’t you close your eyes. We got some time left.”

You peeked over at him and nodded. 

“Okay,” you murmured and hugged your bag against you as you tried to relax against the leather. You turned your head and looked out the window up at the starry sky. You closed your eyes as the fatigue settled over you but you could only fake dozing as your nerves stormed inside of you.

He was right, it was a great opportunity, but you just couldn’t believe it would last. Was it your own doubt getting to you? Or should you be weary of this fairytale buyer? It was late and you couldn’t think. All those worries could wait until tomorrow.

🎨

You crept into the dark apartment. It was after one and you foresaw a long day ahead of you. You’d get maybe four hours in before it all started again. You put your purse down and went into the bedroom, undressing in the shadows and crawling into bed next to Marcus as the colours of the tv moved around him. The playlist he was casting kept on even as he slept.

He grunted as you laid on your back and he turned to graze your arm with his fingertips. 

“You’re home,” he grumbled and kissed your cheek, “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I… it’s so far out there and it’s a lot of work. The canvas is like nine feet-- I’m sorry, I’ll let you sleep.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” his voice was gristly as he propped himself up on his elbow, “you’re gonna finish the job right?”

“I don’t know,” you said, “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can,” Marcus insisted, “I mean, at that price, you can do anything.”

“It’s not about the money, Marcus,” you huffed, “I don’t know if it’s worth all this. Going back and forth…” you ran your hands over your face, “he wants me to quit my job and just paint for him.”

“You should,” Marcus said blithely, “why not? He’s paying you well enough.”

“And what about when I’m done,” you whined.

“You’ll find more work. Vanessa even offered to take on more of your work in her shows, so what’s the problem? Isn’t this what you want?”

“Y-yeah, it is but… I don’t know, it just seems too good to be true.”

“You do this and we might even have enough for a down payment,” he said, “something had to give after all these years. Why can’t it be this?”

You looked at him and tried to smile, “you’re only saying that because he has a pool.”

“Maybe,” he kidded, “but I also want it for you. You spend all your free time painting anyhow so why not get paid for it?”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, “yeah, I just don’t know why I feel so… I don’t know. It just all seems off.”

“Sleep on it, you’ll feel better,” he leaned over and kissed your lips that time, “love you.”

“Love you,” you echoed as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv.

You closed your eyes as the darkness shrouded you and despite your anxiety, you fell into a deep sleep. You didn’t even roll onto your side before you sank into your REM but found yourself caught in limbo. The abstract and intense sensation of paralysis overtook your body and your eyelids flicked open.

It was an awful feeling you knew too well. You knew you were dreaming, you knew it was all in your mind, but your body was filled with sand and your subconscious conjured visions of doom. The tall man stood by the door as he always did and just stared. He got closer, just a little at a time, and you fought to move just a finger and free yourself from the trance.

You felt like you were drowning as your body remained heavy and unmoving. He was getting closer and closer. As he did, his figure changed and his shoulders got wider as his features came clear in the slat of the streetlight that leaked between the curtains. It was Clark staring down at you, his blue eyes sinister and sparkling. 

He reached for you and you woke with a start as your name rose from his lips. You inhaled sharply and looked over at Marcus as he snored. It was only the two of you. You reached for your phone, it was just after three. You turned onto your side but your heart still raced. It always happened when you were stressed, the dreams felt so real that you never really came back down after.

You stared at the wall and curled up under the blanket. You didn’t expect to get much sleep anyway, not with the question on your mind. Should you quit and live your dream or should you kill all hope before life did it for you?

[pies-writes-and-more]

modern day romeo and juliet pt. 2

word count: 3,465

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x fem!reader

warnings: some tired pies writing aka might not make sense but i thought it was cute and fluffy so here we are lol

a/n: thanks for all the kind words and love on the first part of this fic! i love you all so much! and fun facts: we just hit 4k here :) in my head it’s not a real 4k cause most of those blogs I think are inactive from when i first started this blog a while ago haha but still it feels surreal to know that there’s so many of you on here so thank you for all the love and hype! sending you all some love!

haikyuu masterlist | part 1 HERE

Even though it had only been a week, it felt like you hadn’t talked to Shiratorizawa’s captain in forever. Some days, it almost felt like a fever dream - like you had hallucinated the whole thing. Other days, it just felt like the guilt was eating you from the inside. 

It wasn’t Ushijima’s fault though, and your mind never wavered on that. Your heart would break a little every time he would text you, asking about your day, or telling you about something that he saw that reminded him of you, even though you never responded. But as the days passed, the more you started to feel like it had been too long. Too long since you last spoke to him, too long since you texted... you owed him a reason for taking this long. The problem was, you weren’t sure what to tell him. How could you explain the guilt you felt, seeing how disappointed and angry your friends were after the match? How could you tell him that you felt responsible, seeing your two best friends crying in the gym later that night? How could you word your feelings of betrayal if you continued to talk to him?

So instead, you stuffed all those feelings down. You tried to alleviate the guilt by helping the boys practice - throwing tosses for Oikawa’s set, gathering balls for them to practice their serves, bringing snacks and drinks for them to stay hydrated and healthy. You even watched as Oikawa started to toe the link of practicing too much again, and helped Iwaizumi reel him back from overexerting yourself. After showing up to their game and meeting up with Ushijima there, just to watch them lose, you couldn’t deny feeling like it had been your fault somehow.

But of course, Iwaizumi didn’t let you get away with that train of thought for too long. You caught him staring at you every now and then, his eyes squinting in suspicion. “Oi,” he nudged you one day after gulping down half of his water bottle. “What’s up with the whole motherly act you’ve been pulling?”

“Excuse me?” You responded with your hands on your hips. “The hell you talking about, Iwa?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you haven’t left our side since the Interhigh prelims,” Iwaizumi flicked your head, standing up a little straighter, “Listen, we’re big boys. We can handle losing. It’s not like we haven’t lost to Shiratorizawa before.”

“I know... I just want to help,” you told him, moving your gaze away from his. “I just want your guys’ final year to be as great as it can be.”

“And it will be,” Oikawa spoke up from the court, pausing his setting training and holding the ball in front of him. “There’s still the qualifiers. And we won’t be losing to anyone.”

You looked over at him, the glossy look of determination in his eyes. You nodded firmly, smiling to yourself, “Alright then. I’ll go get some more balls. It’s time for tonight’s serving practice,” you beamed, skipping off to the storage closet. You started to pull some of the bags of volleyballs off the nearby shelf, dumping them into two of the rolling bins, one for each of your boys. You smirked a little as you heard them still bickering with each other, your smile growing wider as you realized they had talked a lot more to each other and you today. Maybe they just needed a few days to process and now they were getting back into the groove of things. Maybe today would be the start to their winning streak. 

“-the hell are you doing here?” The scoff in Oikawa’s voice echoed into the storage room making your head perk up from looking around the storage room for anything else that might help. Your eyebrows furrowed as you froze for a moment, straining your ears to hear who had walked in.

“I’m here to talk to you about Y/N,” came a familiar voice. Your mouth immediately went dry, eyes widening ever so slightly as you attempted to calm yourself down. There was no way that was Ushijima, right? You were just hearing things.

But as you tried to peek your head out from the storage room slightly to get a glimpse of what you had hoped to be some random person, your heart sunk a little as your vision locked onto the very boy that had stolen practically all of your thoughts for the past week.

You didn’t realize you had never seen Ushijima in casual clothes before, since you had only seen him in person once and it had been when he was about to play a game. But he looked so different in them, even if he was still wearing his track jacket, he didn’t look as big and powerful as he did on the court - more soft and less sharp edges. He still towered over Oikawa and Iwaizumi but there was none of that fierce animosity that you had felt on the court before.  

You could see your friends tensing as Ushijima stared at them, clearly not okay with him coming to their practice. 

“What about Y/N?” Iwaizumi finally asked, his voice stiff with annoyance as he attempted to puff his chest out a little more than usual.

“I can tell you two care about her,” Ushijima stated simply, his hands in his jacket pockets. Was he... nervous? You tried to get a sense of what that was in his face from so far away... he seemed so much different than when you talked to him on the phone or when you saw him at the preliminary games.

“Well obviously, she’s our best friend,” Oikawa huffed, squinting his eyes up at him. “And to be honest, it’s really none of your business.”

“I know you both don’t like me. But I like Y/N. A lot,” Ushijima was definitely a lot more awkward with your friends than he was with you. You felt your ears heat up hearing him, part of your mind still trying to deny this whole situation was happening. Clearly, you were hallucinating things. Or dreaming. Or maybe it was Ushijima and you were just not hearing him right. There was no way this boy had come all this way to confess his feelings to your friends right? “I had hoped that your feelings towards me wouldn’t interfere.”

“How dare you,” Oikawa’s voice was louder now, his hands turning into tight fists at his side. “You think we would ever let our feelings interfere with Y/N’s?”

“Yeah!” Iwaizumi agreed. “All we’ve ever wanted was for her to be happy. Even if it’s with the likes of you.”

“You two dragged her away at the game,” Ushijima pointed out. “I thought you didn’t approve.”

“We don’t, but it’s not like we’re going to stop her from talking to you. She used to talk about you all the time and how happy you made her, before we knew it was you,” Oikawa’s shoulders relaxed just slightly and you could feel your own guilt eating you up inside. Was Ushijima here because you hadn’t responded to his text messages? Was he blaming them?

“She just hasn’t been responding to me since the Interhigh games...” Ushijima’s whole demeanour changed the more he talked about you, almost becoming shy as he explained. 

Iwaizumi whirled around so quick to look in the direction of the storage room, locking eyes with you so fast you didn’t have time to hide, “Oi! You coward! What did you stop responding to him for?” 

You tried to sink back into the room, praying that maybe no one else had seen you and that you could hide in the corner until Ushijima left. But no way were your friends planning on letting you get away with that. Oikawa practically dragged you out in a few seconds, plopping you right in front of the Shiratorizawa captain, much to your embarrassment. 

“If you stopped responding to him because you realized how much of an ass he was, we’ll kick him out right now,” Iwaizumi stated simply.

“Not necessary. If you don’t share any of the feelings that I have for you, Y/N, I’ll leave now and won’t ever try to contact you again,” Ushijima told you, his eyes meeting yours. You hadn’t noticed how beautiful they were before, how kind they seemed when he was looking at you.

“N-No! It’s not that I... I do like you, Ushijima,” you managed to get out weakly, your whole body feeling like it was on fire. Was it possible to die of heat stroke in an air conditioned gym?

“Now now, Y/N, don’t tell me you did this for us?” Oikawa teased you with that oh-so-sultry voice of his, patting your head affectionately. He loved doing this to you - acting so nice to you when you knew he was just making fun of you. “Was little Y/N feeling guilty about falling for our arch nemesis?” He crooned, making you swat his hand off.

“No! I just... I just didn’t think it would be a good idea. You guys... You guys trained so hard and you lost and it devastated you. I didn’t want to make it worse by rubbing it in your faces or anything,” you explained desperately, looking between your friends and still avoiding looking at Ushijima because his eyes were still locked on you and you swore he could read every thought about him that you were having.

"You idiot,” Iwaizumi sighed, hitting your arm not-so-gently. “Oikawa and I are mature enough- mm no, scratch that. I’m mature enough to make sure that my feelings for this asshole stay on the court and not in your social life,” he said, jerking his thumb in Ushijima’s direction.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean? I can be mature too!” Oikawa huffed, shaking his head. “I might not like the guy, Y/N, but... Iwaizumi and I talked about it the other day,” he stated slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “And we’ve never seen you as happy as you were when you were talking to him. Even just the look on your face when you were daydreaming about him was disgustingly adorable.”

“I-I don’t daydream about him!” You insisted, your ears burning with embarrassment. You made the mistake of glancing over at Ushijima, hoping he didn’t think you were just daydreaming about him like a lovesick puppy, but the smile on your face made your whole face warm.

“I don’t want to make things awkward with you and your friends, Y/N. But I like you and would like continue getting to know you if you’re interested. But if you’re concerned about their feelings with me-” Ushijima started, making Oikawa chuckle.

“Oh no no no, big guy. There’s no way you’re going to just drop her in our hands now that you’ve entered the picture. You’re going to take your share of responsibilities for caring for her, not just dump it all on us!” Oikawa insisted, shoving your shoulder lazily and making you practically fall into Ushijima’s arms.

“Oikawa!” You whined, apologizing over and over again as Ushijima helped you stand up and find your balance.

“Oikawa’s right, surprisingly,” Iwaizumi stated simply, folding his arms across his chest. “She likes small gifts, just so you know. Ones without occasions. So bring her flowers on a random day, or get her one of those dumb plushies. Or just spend time with her on the phone because she seemed to really like talking to you.”

“Ya and she does a good job of taking care of us so you better take care of her too. She deserves to have someone taking care of her for once, ya hear me?” Oikawa stuck his nose in the air as he talked about all of this so dismissively.

You stood there with your jaw practically on the floor, wishing your friends would just shut up and already plotting to chew them out for all this later.

“Noted. Thank you,” Ushijima stated, giving a slight bow of his head to them.

“Ya ya whatever. If you so much as hurt a hair on her head or if you break her heart or make her cry for whatever reason, Ushiwaka, we will destroy you,” Iwaizumi threatened, glaring up at him. “I don’t care that she’s got all these feelings for you now, but if you hurt her, we will never let you forget it.”

“You best believe we’ve got some tricks up our sleeves. It’s not like we haven’t been planning all this time for our Y/N to catch some guy’s eye so beware,” Oikawa added as a snide remark, starting to walk back to the court. “Now bring her home, will you? It’s late and Iwa and I wanted to get some more practice in.”

“It’s not even that late-” you started saying, but Iwaizumi just shot you a look that said get said get the hell out of here and go hand out with him as he bent down to throw you your things. “Thank you,” you whispered to them with a small smile on your face, unsure of how to tell them how much relief they’d given to you. “But don’t think I won’t kill you both later for all those other comments.”

“Yea yea, you can kill us when you get married to him or something,” Iwaizumi shrugged it off with a playful grin, giving the two of you a wave as Ushijima offered his arm to you and walked you out. He gave the two Aoba Johsai students a small nod before escorting you out into the evening air.

The two of you stood there for a moment, your eyes looking at literally everything else besides him because you were actually alone with him for the first time in person now and you couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“Why do you hide in your photos?” Ushijima asked after a moment as you awkward stood in front of him.

“S-Sorry?”

“Your photos, you’re always hiding part of your face in them. But you’re very pretty so I don’t see why you hide,” he explained.

Your poor body was given no time to cool down, already warming up in embarrassment again as he spoke, “T-Thank you,” you let out a little laugh, holding your arms against yourself nervously. “I guess... I dunno I’ve never felt comfortable in front of a camera.”

Ushijima nodded slowly and noted how you held yourself, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, “Here.” He stated simply, before taking your things out of your hands. 

“O-Oh that’s okay, I don’t wanna take this from you... and I can carry my things, don’t worry,” you insisted, worried he would feel just how warm your face was as his hands brushed close to you.

But Ushijima just shook his head and smiled as he started to walk ahead, insisting silently that he would hold your things for you, “I was hoping to give it to you at the game. When we met. My friend said that it would be a nice gesture, to give you an idea of my intentions. But... now I’m glad I didn’t ask you to. I wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to choose between me or your friends.”

You smiled to yourself as you hugged the jacket to you a little, trying not to faint over how good it smelled, “I appreciate the thought though. And I appreciate it now,” you pulled it against yourself a little more as the two of you walked, Ushijima telling you about his day as if there hadn’t been a whole week of silence between the two of you.

“Hey, Ushijima? Can I ask you something?” You looked up at him suddenly, still holding onto his arm.

“Mm?”

“How did you know I’d be at the gym with Iwaizumi and Oikawa?”

“Oh. I didn’t,” Ushijima shrugged, glancing down at you. “I went there to talk to them. But I am glad you were there now.”

“To talk to them?” You repeated slowly and Ushijima just nodded.

“I wanted to tell them how much I cared about you. I thought in order to make this work out, I would have to win their approval first.”

You laughed at how parental the two of your friends sounded in this situation, as if Ushijima had to try and make a good impression on them, “That’s sweet of you.”

“You’re the first girl I’ve ever felt remotely interested in, Y/N. With volleyball practice and games happening all the time, my romantic life isn’t as important to me. But... when we talk, it’s like nothing could be any more important than it,” he admitted softly, eyes looking ahead as if talking about something far away. “Practice always seemed so long when I knew we were going to talk afterwards. I just wanted to listen to you talk. Hear about your day, hear you laugh...”

You gripped his arm just a little tighter, looking up at him in awe because this boy was so much softer than you had expected. How did someone who was filled with muscles with a voice as stoic as it could get be as soft as this? 

“I’ve been told I’m not that great with expressing emotions,” Ushijima continued, glancing at you with another soft look in his eyes. “But I hope to get better at it so that you’ll know how much I like you. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to take you out on a date.”

Your whole stomach felt like it was doing flips in your body, your gaze looking away from him as you tried to contain your happiness. At least on the phone you could hop around and squeal a little without him noticing, but in person, now you had to try and remain somewhat composed, “I-I’d like that,” you squeaked out.

The two of you talked some more, his hand finding its way down to yours, and his fingers interlacing themselves so easily with yours that it felt like they were made to fit together. As you got closer to your house, you felt another wave of guilt wash over you, “Ushijima, I never told you I was sorry. I am sorry, I shouldn’t have ghosted you like that. I should’ve said something I just... didn’t know what to say.”

Ushijima stopped in front of you, reaching up to pat your head gently, “I appreciate that. But I understand why you did it. You’re loyal to your friends - I couldn’t be mad about that. Besides, not hearing from you for that long made me realize just how much I like you. And now I know, I’ll do whatever I can to stay with you.”

You smiled up at him, quietly wishing he wouldn’t move his hand for a moment as you just felt the warmth on your head, “Thank you for walking me home.”

“I wish I could do it more often,” he admitted, knowing that his volleyball practices usually ran a little later and that he probably wouldn’t be able to make it in time most days. “But maybe we could call when we walk home some days. That way I’ll know you got home okay.”

You nodded sheepishly, playing with the hems of his jacket that was still laying on your shoulders, “I’d really like that.”

The two of you stood once more in the quiet evening air for just a few moments, Ushijima’s eyes seeming to just gaze over you slowly like he was trying to remember every inch of your face. “Have a good night, Y/N,” he whispered as he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a brief kiss on it. “Is it alright if I text you tomorrow?”

You nodded with a giggle, still not used to the way he would ask you, “More than alright. I’m looking forward to hearing from you, Ushijima.” You handed him his jacket as he handed you your things before putting his jacket back on and the two of you starting to part ways, “Good night!” You called after him and he turned to give you a wave, a glow to his skin as he disappeared into the evening.

You found yourself later still screaming into your pillows, a ghost of a feeling of his hands on yours, the feeling of him patting your head, kissing your hand still haunting you. Maybe your friends’ arch nemesis wasn’t the best person to fall for, but you sure as hell were falling. So maybe Romeo and Juliet could have a happy ending after all, now that they had Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s blessing after all.

haikyuu masterlist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)

@sgue0s @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana @just4readingfics @moonlightaangel @crystal-lilac @random-734​ @rizkykei​ @sophiemess​ @bbyhaji​ @pansexualproblemchild​ @mystic-poteto​ @kaleidoscopekai​ @cuddlysoftbear​

[anemo-writes]

hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Hi, Ary, very inactive ex-mutual(i think???) here. Good to see you thriving! ♥ It's been a while since I've dipped my head into cockles stuff. Could I perchance maybe ask uuuuum tf is going on??? lol I see Mish apparently confirmed he used to stay over at Jensen's in Van, and heard newbs were apparently freaking out about it and getting a bit messy, which I get that, business as usual. But I'm also seeing shit about spin-offs? And Jared getting in a twitter fight with Jensen, causing/resulting in stans to going feral and sending hate?? I know you're not as big a fan of Jar, but that's part of why I figured I'd ask you, you usually have a really level head about this kinda stuff. If you don't wanna answer publically, or at all, that's totally chill!

Hey, Rhi! We're still mutuals! Of course we're still mutuals! When I saw the notification of your ask, I was like "Hey! I haven't seen you in a while!" and my husband was like "???" and I said "Tumblr" and he said "Oh."

It was a wild time haha.

In any case, welcome back to the dumpster fire! We are obviously still a mess. So to catch you up, I guess I will start by summarizing both before and after the finale (not sure where you left off so this might be redundant for you) ... basically, it became obvious as the end of the show neared that Jensen was not on board with the plan for the finale; although Jared never stopped singing its praises.

We got confirmation of this during a zoom interview where Jensen said that he actually went into the writers room as well as called Kripke to basically voice how he didn't agree with the direction the final season was going, but he was shot down on all fronts. In another interview, he was asked "What would you tell your younger self going into this career?" And Jensen responded with: "I would tell myself to just keep your head down and do the work" meaning, "Don't try to change things because you can't." I also think that this whole situation is what he wrote "Let Me Be" about for his first Radio Company album, but that is just my own speculation. All of his reluctance, even though he always followed it up with "But I eventually saw the value in the script" or "I came around in the end" (which never sounded sincere, and I don't think he was really trying to sound sincere) made us all very nervous about what was to come for 15x20; and of course, when the last two episodes aired, we saw just how badly they fucked it up.

After the awful finale, the entire fandom became aware of the CW's heavy handed role in the thing, basically squeezing all the life out of SPN to shape it into a ramp from which Walker could launch itself. They not only erased all the love and joy and representation that Cas's love confession gave us, they also tore apart the things that made sense about the bond between Sam and Dean, making it really just about Sam-- and therefore Jared, which of course, Jared seemed to be fine with ... even though no one else was. Misha barely said anything during the finale, and a few of the other actors talked about the show ending in various posts, but Jared tweeted up a storm ... and Jensen? Jensen just sat in sexy-silent resentment of the whole thing. He didn't tweet, he didn't post, he didn't say a word once he no longer had to, and I think that's because he was already going full-steam-ahead on his plans for redemption.

Which brings us to Chaos Machine-- Jensen and Danneel's new production company that is being run by a queer creative director and has a mantra of inclusivity and representation woven throughout it's fabric; and apparently, the first story that Jensen wanted to tell through this new platform is the origin story of Sam and Dean's parents; so last week (?) he announced the upcoming production of "The Winchesters" -- the untold love story of John and Mary. Obviously, John is not the most likable character from the show, so the idea was met with a lot of resentment when it was first announced, but Jensen has gone on to say that he is excited to take on the task of telling the "true" story behind these characters-- the one that makes sense with the pre-established canon and doesn't reject it. So, given that, the idea is being mulled over with a bit more optimism from the fandom.

Who isn't being optimistic though?

Jared Padalecki.

When Jensen made this announcement on Twitter, many of his friends and coworkers congratulated him, but not Jared. Jared responded with a passive aggressive: "I'm happy for you, man, but I wish I didn't hear about it through Twitter." This of course, sent all the die-hard Jared fans into a tizzy and they immediately began asking him if he was serious (hoping it was just a joke-- we all hoped it was because there would be fallout no matter what one's opinion on Jared is). Instead of leaving it there though or just deleting that tweet, Jared went on to tweet some more, saying that he was being serious that he didn't know about the plans for the prequel, and that he was "gutted" that Sam apparenlty wouldn't be included (mind you, this a prequel to SPN... meaning BEFORE Sam and Dean were even born, so how could Sam be included? But Dean is apparently narrating this story so maybe Jared thought Sam should be helping to narrate it? I don't know). But Jared being Jared couldn't just leave that there, he then went on to tweet at Robbie Thompson who was announced as a writer for "The Winchesters" so then Jared went off on him too, calling him "Brutus" and a "coward" acting like Robbie betrayed him (speculation is-- Robbie refused to write for Walker, so Jared is pissed that he essentially chose Jensen over him). He did fairly quickly, remove that tweet attacking Robbie, but of course the damage was done at that point. And it truly only took his first tweet calling out Jensen for some people to be like "Jared-- that sucks if you didn't know but why are you saying any of this publicly?"

As you might know, Jared has had issues in the past with posting hurtful things on social media, and has even used it as a tool for attack before-- calling out customer service agents and public workers that he felt have wronged him, which is bad enough ... but for him to then do the same thing to his best friend of well over a decade? Many people who had once liked him or at least gave him the benefit of the doubt (I used to ...) stopped after this latest twitter tantrum.

However, some people have suspected for some time that J2 had a falling out either shortly before the finale or just after. Their public/social media interactions have seemed awkward, stilted or even non-existent in moments that they normally wouldn't be. In the past year, when Walker premiered, Jensen didn't say much about his friend's new venture other than a "Congrats. buddy" here and there. Later, we learned that Jensen refused to work on the show ... Jared said he make him do it, drag Jensen to the set "kicking and screaming" which made many fans quirk up an eyebrow because, why would Jensen put up a fight unless the two weren't as close as they used to be? And then Jensen moved his family to Colorado (either permanently or for an extended period at least) which is notable considering how he moved to Texas seemingly to be closer to Jared, even buying a house that was near his. All this was just speculation though; but it wasn't until Jared's tweet complaining about not knowing about the prequel that the theories behind them falling out, became less theory and more fact.

The day after his twitter tantrum, Jared tweeted again-- not retracting his statements or apologizing, but instead saying that he and Jensen "talked" and were "all good". Jensen then tweeted too, parroting this statement to some degree, which only made the whole thing even more sour in the mouths of the fans. The fact that Jared didn't apologize for his outburst and throwing his friend under the bus, and also the fact that Jensen-- Mr. Sexy Silence, Mr. Never Tweets, Mr. Tech-Ignorant-and-Proud, actually had to POST SOMETHING saying that he and Jared made up, it just screamed OPTICS. It was obviously the work of agents and PR firms and lots of people going "Look, if you two keep beefing, that will mean the death of both of your projects. Even more people will stop watching Walker, and this SPN prequel will never get picked up due to the scandal." So, the two "made nice" publicly to quell the chaos, but in my opinion, it's all too little too late. Jared started a storm that he can't contain now with a little tweet, and it seems like he knows that too because before he talked about him and Jensen making up, he asked that people "not send threats". He could have just as easily said that he shouldn't have made this a public issue and that he's sorry, but instead, he continued to play the victim and stoke the flames by alerting us all to the damage he's done.

Now, like I said before-- I used to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don't think he's an awful human or that he deserves to be attacked or anything, but he is an adult man with very poor judgment and an obvious selfish-streak a mile wide. He should know better, and he should have more respect for his so-called "friends" and "brothers" than to make them targets to public ridicule. I have a hard time believing that Jensen still sees Jared the way he used to, and I wouldn't blame him a bit for wanting to pull away-- especially when he's moving on to so many new and exciting things. Jared certainly deserves happiness just as much as anyone else, but he went on twitter and basically asked for a scandal, and he got one.

The question is now-- was there a motive behind it? Was just looking for a reason to bring his and Jensen's falling out to light-- while making himself looking like the victim in the process? Or did he genuinely not know about the prequel and just decided to go about "not knowing" in the most toxic and hurtful way he could manage?

In any case, that is the drama ... that is the J2 insanity in a rather lengthy nutshell ... that is the tea ... and I hope it all makes sense.

But the good news out of all of this is, Cockles is thriving-- they are happy and in love and Jensen calls Misha "Babe" and Misha misses waking up to see Jensen in the morning, and they are just as cute and wonderful as can be.

So, I will end that there. I am so glad to see you back, and I hope I answered all your questions in a way that made sense ... I tried anyway!

💖💖💖

[casiavium]

rant in tags. personally I like reading about other people's problems. Distracts from my own akajsjagk

I'm on mobile I'm doing this instead of a read more lol

[gumnut-logic]

“Virgil?”

He sighed, slammed the wrench down on Two’s hull and grabbed another one. “Yes, Gordon, what do you want now?”

“No need to be snappy there, bro.”

“Gordon, my ‘bird is currently floating in the Pacific with her engines full of water. In what way do you think this would put me in a good mood?”

“You have Penny on board.”

“What?”

“What is she doing right now?”

“Uh, helping Scott clean sand out of the intakes. Why?”

“Oh, just interested.”

Can you be interested silently? But he didn’t say it. A calming breath and he dove back into the hatch. The sun near the equator was expectedly hot, and in a breach of protocol, he had removed his baldric, stashed it nearby for the comm signal, and unzipped the top half of his uniform. He would have loved to throw the whole thing off, but safety concerns, a frowning Scott and, of course, the Penny presence vetoed that.

But man, it would be nice to be cool.

His girl was swamped with water and she wasn’t going to fly until that water was flushed out and all her engines checked and double checked. As it was it was likely they would have to airlift her back to the Island using the heavy-duty pods that had dragged her space-damaged carcass out of the ocean last time. It had taken a week to clean her out.

Thunderbird Two was not a submarine.

“So, she was a good co-pilot?”

“Yes, Gordon.”

“Reckon she might come out of rescues?”

“Why?”

“Maybe she wants to become a more active member of International Rescue?”

“Say that to her face and you are likely to lose yours. In no way is Lady Penelope inactive.”

“Uh, you might have a point.” A sigh. “So, what do you think of Penny?”

“Gordon, I’m not going to gossip about your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“But you wouldn’t mind if she was.”

“Um...”

“Obvious, Gordo, obvious.”

“You have a point.”

“Ask her out and put us out of our misery.”

“Hey, timing, Virg. It isn’t like I can escort her anywhere at the moment.”

“You don’t have to, Gordon, or haven’t you noticed that, she has been on Tracy Island more since you were injured than she has in the past ten years?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Ask her out, Gordon. Use one of the hoverbikes and take her down to your favourite beach for a picnic. I’ll even tie up Alan for you.” He swapped wrenches again. Damn, this vent was being stubborn. He whacked it and narrowly missed his thumb, but the housing shifted and he was finally able to open the access.

“Ugh, crap.”

“What?”

“Mulched sea life in the aft dorsal vent.”

“Mulched?”

“Well, if you went through the forward intake, you’d come out mulched too. Two is not a submersible.”

“You keep saying that, yet you didn’t hesitate to take her under.”

“I had good reason.”

“Yes, an older brother who wouldn’t listen to his resident aquanaut.” Gordon’s voice took on a frustrated tone. “If he had just waited, we wouldn’t have had the problem.”

“Scott was just anxious.”

“Virgil, if I had done that you would be ripping me a new one.”

A swallow. Gordon was right. There was a stern discussion to be had in the future. But the hope regarding their father was like a light at the end of the tunnel and it shone everything else into insignificance.

“We need to focus on Dad right now.”

“I will be as happy as you to find Dad, Virgil, but I don’t want to lose the brothers I have in the process.”

He put the wrench down and it clattered against Two’s hull. Gordon was right. Scott had been in some serious danger of never getting out of that sludge. Alan and Kayo were lucky to be alive. They had almost lost a Thunderbird to the Chaos Crew. And Thunderbird Two...both he and Penny had been at risk.

All for just the chance of more information.

“You have a point.”

“I know I do.”

Perhaps they had been a bit obsessed. But the chance, Dad needing their help, stranded so far away. Could he still be alive? This could be the rescue of their lives. But at what risk? Gordon had been stuck at home watching all of them cheat death on a simple hope.

That capsule still sat snug in the module and had yet to reveal whether it was all worth it.

Virgil bit his lip. “Dad might be still alive.”

“I really hope so. I really do, Virg. Just don’t do anything stupid and keep that eldest brother of ours from killing himself in the process.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.” A pause. “Just sucks to be me at the moment.”

“Should I leave Penny with you next time?”

“You’d need to tie her to the chair, Virg. As you said, she’s not one to sit and watch.”

“Neither are you.”

Silence from the comms for the first time in a long time. Virgil sighed. “Ask her out, Gords. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, maybe.” But his brother’s tone said the absolute opposite.

Looks like he would be pulling out some kind of motivational speech for his little brother in the near future. Who thought Gordon would ever need motivation of any kind? The aquanaut was usually a power source for the rest of them.

“Think about it, bro. She’d be the luckiest woman on the planet.”

“Heh.” A pause. “So, what wildlife did you puree? Got enough for identification?” That was an obvious subject change if he’d ever heard one. Okay, if that is how he wanted to play it.

“I’m thinking squid.” He reached in and grabbed a pile of jellied mush in his fortunately gloved hand and held it up so his holoreceiver could grab it. “What do you think? Look like something for dinner?”

“You took out a squid? You keep that killing green behemoth out of my ocean, Virgil.”

“Hey, it’s not like she did it on purpose.”

“Can you bring it closer?” There was a frown in his brother’s voice.

Virgil complied. Pieces of the slush slid down his arm and splashed on his undershirt. “Gross.”

“Uh, Virgil, put it down now.”

“What?”

“That’s not squid. That’s jellyfish.”

The sludge landed with a splat on Two’s hull. It left residue all over his glove and arm and shirt. “Shit!”

“Tell me you didn’t get it on your skin, Virgil. Stinger cells don’t puree.”

“Damnit!”

“Virgil!”

The gloves were tossed, the uniform followed in the most awkward undressing he had ever managed. His boots were stumbled off even more awkwardly. But nothing could hide the sudden tingling on his chest. Goddamnit, so stupid!

“Virgil, talk to me! I’m sending Scott up.”

“I’m okay. Just stupid.”

“TB4’s packs have some sting neutralising spray. I’m notifying Scott.”

His undershirt was flung onto the hull. He was never going to live this down. The tingling was fast becoming painful. A lovely array of welts outlining where the sludge had soaked through his shirt was appearing on his chest. “Unbelievable!”

“Virgil?” Scott appeared up through the forward hatch. “What the hell?”

“It was an accident.”

Of course, Penelope just had to follow his brother. So here he was standing in his undershorts on top of his bird in the middle of the ocean for all nearby female aristocrats to see.

Neither his brother or their London agent appeared to care in the slightest as they clambered across Two’s hull to reach him. “What happened? Gordon said you came in contact with a jellyfish?” Scott dumped a medkit on the hull and, opening it, pulled out a bottle of the sting spray. “Do we know what kind?”

Virgil grit his teeth. Yes, it was definitely hurting now. “Scan the slush. Just don’t touch it.”

“Send the readings to me and I’ll do the identification.” Gordon voice had lost any and all joviality.

Penny fished the scanner from Scott’s kit and did as the aquanaut asked.

“Virg?” Scott approached him with care. “Where and how bad?”

“Chest and bad enough.”

The spray was heaven on earth. Scott drenched him liberally in the chemical foam. “Anywhere else?”

“No, that little bit was enough.” Virgil let a breath out.

“Any sign of additional symptoms? C’mon, sit down, just in case.”

With a frustrated sigh, Virgil parked himself crosslegged on Two’s warm hull a decent distance from the slush scattered around the vent hatch. He glared at it. “Revenge from beyond the grave.”

“Got it.” Gordon’s voice held relief even before he spouted the needed information. “You’ve been Cannonballed, Virg.”

“What?”

“Cannonball Jellyfish. Stomolophus meleagris. You must have hit a swarm because that pile of slush makes up more than one. And don’t worry, not deadly. Usually a mild sting, but can get nasty in your eyes. I suspect that you’re really feeling it, because you’re playing with the pureed version.”

“Great.” Well, at least he wasn’t dying.

“Source says a few hours of ouch and the next day lots of itch.”

“Fantastic.” Just to make dragging his girl out of the ocean that little bit more entertaining. A put-upon sigh.

“Sit for a minute while I pump some seawater up here and wash off the living dead jellyfish.” Scott wasn’t smiling, but since it was clear now that Virgil wasn’t going to keel over on him, he could relax just a little.

“Fine.”

Penny looked up and smiled at him. It was a kind smile, despite his predicament.

He let his shoulders drop. At least the sun was warm and the breeze gentle as they danced across his shoulder blades. In a minute he would wash the mess off his chest, apply some anaesthetic cream, don a clean uniform and get back to work. But for the moment he was content to sit and watch Scott scrub down his ‘bird.

“Gordon?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll leave the water rescues to you from now on.”

His little brother laughed over the comms. “Aww, Virg, but you did so well.”

“Hmph.” A smirk. “Penny says hi.” The blonde woman looked up at him in question.

“Virgil!”

“Yes, little bro?”

“Watch it.”

“Well, she’s now seen me in my underwear and she makes a great co-pilot...”

“As if she’d look at you twice.”

“Oh, I don’t know. She’s looking at me quite bit at the moment.” He grinned at her.

“No flexing your pecs, you hulk.”

If was Virgil’s turn to laugh. “You are aware I have you on speaker, aren’t you?”

“Shit!”

Penny’s laugh was as delicate as she.

-o-o-o-

[theimmaterialplace]

holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 1: prologue

Summary: Emily is an easy person to love, even if you shouldn't. This becomes apparent when she leaves you after two years of hiding your relationship, if you could call it that, with just a text. It's not long after that you are alerted with news of her death and you break down completely. Confiding in Spencer, the one to introduce the two of you, seemed like a good idea at the time but it becomes something more. You slowly begin to heal and then one day you see her, alive and well, and every feeling you have for her comes back to you. You're met with both your present and your past and you don't know what to do.

Contains: female!reader, bisexual!reader, friends with benefits/ hidden relationships, mentions of death, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

A.N: I like making things complicated and messy so here we are! I hope you enjoy whatever the hell this is! Also, this is first time writing for cm so sorry if the characterization is off; we’ll get there eventually!

masterlist | read on ao3

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and hold you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

And I can wish all I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me

I know it's for the better

- Phoebe Bridgers, "Waiting Room"

It’s not uncommon for you to wait on Emily but even this is a new level of tardiness you’ve never encountered with her. She’s nothing if not kind and always alerts you when she’s on a new case or has to reschedule. It worries you to say the least.

You really shouldn’t care this much for her but mistakes are supposed to be made. It’s just that you can’t even begin to consider Emily a mistake but if she is one, she’s the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Sometimes, you think she looks at you with something akin to adoration in her eyes and it takes every bit of your control not to look at her with that same exact look. She’s a profiler, after all, and you’re typically one to wear your heart on your sleeve but she made herself very clear in the beginning.

Your agreement was simply just a friends with benefits situation, no feelings involved. That lasted for a while, truly. You had managed a little over a year with her before you realized that the feeling in your stomach was the fluttering of butterflies. It had frightened you but you decided that she was worth it, even if the decision might come back to haunt you.

Twirling the wine of glass in your hand, you contemplate calling her but decide against it because you don’t want to seem desperate. It may be an accurate description but you weren’t going to show that. Ignoring the waiter who’s been shooting you knowing looks for the past hour, you decide just to leave. You call the waiter over and ask for the check. He just nods at your words; his eyes filled with pity and it pisses you off more than anything,

It’s not that you care that you got stood up because you understand that her work is demanding. It’s more that you’re worried for her because she’s been inactive and short in her recent messages. You hadn’t received a good morning or good night text in days. It makes you wonder if she’s finally gotten sick of you. You’d like to believe that she would at least grace you with a text informing you of this decision but you’re not the best at predicting her.

Emily is a very closed off person and you respect that, you do. It’s just sometimes you wish she didn’t compartmentalize every part of her life into tiny, separate boxes. She likes to pretend that you and Spencer aren’t friends, even though it’s how you were originally met. She tells you that no one needs to know and at the beginning, you were okay with this but lying to Spencer is something you wish you didn’t have to do.

You have to pretend not to know every little bit of Emily she shares with you that she also shares with her team and try not to focus on every little detail he shares about her that you don’t already know. You feel a bit guilty but you figure that she wouldn’t really mind. The only thing that would make her annoyed, never mad because she says anger is useless, is if you mixed her personal life with her work life. You understand to a degree but you also wish that you didn’t have to hide.

Clearly, you were too far gone for her. You always had to take a step back and remember that you weren’t in a relationship with her. If only she didn’t make it so easy to love her. When this ended, you were going to end up heartbroken and that was okay with you. You had accepted that a long time ago but now that you’re actually faced with the inevitable, it scares you.

Emily Prentiss was not the first woman you were with but she’ll be the one to always haunt you. She’s shaped you into the person you are today without even knowing it. You’ll never regret your decision to be with her but you’ll always be left with the “what ifs”.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man who sits across from you and it’s only until he coughs that he brings you back to reality.

He’s handsome in a rugged sort of way. If you weren’t so enamored with Emily, he surely would have fired something in you but as it is, she is the only one able to cause a spark in you.

“Hi, I saw you here and couldn’t help but notice how you’re alone. Such a shame since you seem like such a catch.” His voice fits him well and he has a nice smile despite its crookedness.

“Ah, my date couldn’t make it. I guess he got busy with work or something. It happens to the best of us.” His eyes narrow the slightest bit at use of “he” and you wonder why. He’s the one hitting on you, after all. It’s gone as soon as it comes and he’s back to those kind eyes.

“Oh, he’s one of those. Well, I know when I’m unwanted when I hear it. Have a lovely night…” He shoots you one last smile and gets up and leaves the restaurant. The waiter shows up and you pay immediately and get into your car as soon as you can.

It’s only when you arrive at home do you see it. You have one new message from Emily and it brings a smile to your face until you see the contents.

Emily <3

I think it’s time we called it quits.

Don’t contact me anymore.

Goodbye.

At first, you feel nothing. You reread it and reread it until it’s practically ingrained into your vision. You knew it was coming but seeing it actually made it real and before you know it, you’re crying.

You feel like a fool because you’ve known that this was just a casual thing for her. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Perhaps what hurts the most is her demand to not contact her anymore. You would have been fine, loving her at a distance but remaining friends. Emily cutting you off completely had never been a possibility in your mind. It almost makes you want to laugh though because although you’d never thought of it, it’s such an Emily thing to do. You just never thought it’d be something to happen to you.

A fool, you might be, but better to have loved than to have not. It’s like you had thought earlier, Emily would never leave you, even if she had in person. There would always be reminders of her in your life; in the interior design of your home, in the music you listened to, in the movies and books you had shared together, and in the hidden, ignored corners of your heart.

It hurt. God, did her short messages pain you but you’d seen it coming. You had time to accept it but that did nothing to quell the tears that fell down your face or the sobs that wracked your body.

You cry yourself to sleep, still in the dress she bought you, the one she said you looked your best in and always brought out her coyness to the fullest.

When you wake up, you’re thankful it’s a Saturday because you can’t imagine facing anyone today. The most you want to do is get drunk on every bottle of wine you own, which is quite a few. You hope it’ll be enough to keep your mind off of Emily.

You go to the bathroom and you can’t help but wince at the image you make. Your makeup has run all over your face and you look like la llorona with the mascara and eyeliner running down your cheeks. Your lipstick is smeared beyond comprehension and overall, you look like a mess, not even a hot one at that.

You look like the stereotypical girl who has just gotten heartbroken and so you scrub it all off until your skin is clear of the previous night’s emotions. You change into something comfortable, throwing the dress into the hamper rather than the trash because you can’t bear the thought of throwing away things from her. Maybe it’d be the smart thing to do but you can’t.

You’re in a sort of limbo and you’re unsure of where to go from here. You’ve accidentally built up your life around her and now that she’s gone, you’re left with nothing but yourself.

-

It’s only a week later that Spencer shows up to your place, looking worse for wear. He looks like you did on that day when Emily broke up with you but worse. His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is bright red against his pale complexion.

“Um, could I come in?” His voice cracks and he only shrinks further into himself and you nod at him, opening the door to accompany his skinny frame.

You guide him to your couch and place the cup of tea you had made for yourself into his hands since it seemed like they needed something in them with all the twitching they were doing.

You sit in silence, knowing that whatever he had to say would eventually come out.

His tea has stopped steaming when he finally speaks up. “Today, my colleague was taken by the person she had been chasing after. We found her and apprehended the person she had been chasing but… But we were too late. By the time we had gotten there, she was already wounded and she was pronounced dead two hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seven seconds ago. She’s dead and I never got to say goodbye.” With his proclamation, his tears begin again and you take the cup from his hands.

“May I hug you, Spencer?” He nods and that’s all it takes for you to take him into your arms. He sobs into the crook of your neck. It’s hard to connect the image of the nerd you know and care for to the man who’s breaking down in your arms. You rub soothing circles on his back and try to keep up with his words but they’re too quiet and unintelligible to your ears.

The both of you sit there like that for a while. It could have been five minutes or an hour but you can’t tell and you bet he can’t either.

When he finally runs out of tears, he whispers something so quietly that you think you’ve misheard him.

“I never got to say goodbye to Emily.”

Emily . She’s his colleague. He had said she in his retelling of the events. It takes your breath away and you have to stop the tears from coming on because you’re not supposed to care for her, not like this. Not in front of anybody, especially not Spencer.

She’s dead. Emily is dead. It’s a truth you don’t want to accept. It makes you glad that Spencer is still hidden in your neck because you’re sure your face can only show the agony you feel over such a reveal.

Your worst nightmare has come true, it seems. You don’t want this. Anything but her leaving you permanently. She can’t be dead, not the woman who’s changed you so irrevocably and made you feel like life was worth living.

You could accept loving her in quiet, away from her, but not at the cost of her death. You can’t deal with this, not when Spencer needs you so push it away. You shove the pain and agony down until you’re numb.

You’re supposed to be nothing but an acquaintance to her. She hadn’t even loved you. You shouldn’t feel like your heart has been ripped violently from your body and that your soul will always have an Emily sized hole left in the wake of her death.

You focus on Spencer so that you don’t break down and you’re grateful that he doesn’t notice your little episode. You can’t confront this in front of anybody. It’s better to deal with your grief in private, just like everything else you did with Emily. It made sense for the last thing you’ll ever do for her to stay quiet and watch from afar.