#I’m at least glad she had a glimpse of happiness because it was such a bleak bleak life she lived

[wallflowerglitter]

Such a sad sad sad series. Sorrow is right.

[websterss]

COMING BACK (2) HAPPY ENDING — ETHAN LANDRY 

SUMMARY: Sam had given you an ultimatum when it came to Ethan, both choices didn’t feel right to you, so you chose to go along with what felt right. You were glad you had chosen right.

WARNING(S): angst, mentions of killing, mentions of dying, knife wound, fluff ending.

WORD COUNT: 2,451

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2: SAD ENDING

You didn’t know how long you had waited for. Perhaps a few minutes since he last left the closet. Perhaps more than half an hour. The long-awaited return of Ethan felt like hours. You succumb to the darkness surrounding you. Sliding down one of the walls and waiting. Your eyes glanced around hoping to catch a glimpse of light but the only light you received was from the bottom of the door. The only thing holding you together. The rushed boots and fast swipe of a shadow running past the door had you holding your breath. Not like they knew where you were. In Sam and Tara’s case, you assumed that didn’t work in your favor. If things were to go south which you didn’t doubt would happen, they wouldn’t know where to locate you, possibly thinking you were dead and dying. Some part of you was, knowing how the love of your life had become a stranger to you after revealing himself to you.

The minutes prior to hiding you made you wonder if he’d have really hurt you had you not told him you were pregnant. Would he have plunged the knife into your side where you were once stabbed by Amber? Would he have really ended what you found to be some of the most enjoyable three months together? You weren’t sure and yet you held onto the hope of him coming to get you, to tell you everything was over. So when a shadow neared the closet and swung open the door, your heart picked up and your smile grew, but as you locked eyes with Sam and then with Tara’s, your nightmare began.

“Oh thank god!” Sam rushed forward to cup your face, wiping away tears that fell down your face. “I’m so glad you’re okay! Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?” All you could muster was a shake of your head. Words betraying you.

“Holy shit, he wasn’t lying…” Tara gave you a once-over.

“Where–“ You swallow a knot forming in your throat. “Where is he?” Your voice cracked. “S-Sam? Where is he?”

Sam sighs, glancing back to Tara with a look you couldn’t recognize. Then looked back to you. She stood up, holding her hand out like a mother gesturing for her child to grab a hold of her. You did and allowed her to guide you out of the closet and down the hall where you and Ethan rushed down earlier.

When you came out into the clearing you noticed the mop of hair you loved to mess with. Sam let you go. You had taken cautious steps towards where he was sitting against a display case. When you rounded the case and his head turned towards you tiredly. You gasped and ran forward. Doing so in relief because he was okay. Your knees hit the ground hard. You didn’t mind the pain that started though. You didn’t mind it one bit. You let out a shaky laugh. Your hands holding his red and sweaty face gently.

“H-Hey…” He breathed out tiredly. His eyes doing their best to remain open. His smile only grew upon seeing you. “You’re okay…” He sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “I least I’ll know you’ll be….be okay now.” His breath hitched. You teared up again, your eyes furrowing in confusion at the sudden release of his slow intake of air. You give him a once over and when you finally look down where his hand holds his bleeding wound. You gasp. Upon careful inspection, he was stabbed in multiple areas too.

“E-Ethan you’re hurt!” Your breath grew shaky.

“I didn’t know…” You whip your head over to Sam approaching you both. She shakes her head, guilt-ridden over her face.

“What?” Your brows furrow.

“I didn’t think he was telling the truth. I thought he was lying to get us to trust him…I thought you were dead, so I stabbed him!” Sam gestured to the knife still lodged in him. “Then he helped us kill his dad and I didn’t know what to believe anymore! You hunted us down. You were about to kill Y/n, then you help us? What the fuck Ethan!”

“I’m sorry…” He frowns with a heavy sigh. “I guess I’m better…better at following than making the plans. I’m sorry.” He swallows the lump in his throat.

“Sorry ain’t good enough.” Sam frowns.

“Sam he knows…” Your head drops.

She perks up at this. “What? You told him?”

“Yeah…I did.” You look back and met his eyes.

“So he hid you…” She nods, putting together his thought process and trying to make sense of the situation. “What if she wasn’t huh?“ Ethan looks up slowly to meet her gaze. “Would you still have hidden her then?”

He looks over at you. You honestly didn’t want to know what his answer would be. Scared you’d be met with the opposite. “No…” He croaks out. “I-I’m sorry okay. I don’t know what more…you want me to say.” He trails off. His head fell into his shoulder. His eyes closed.

“Hey, no, no. Hey Ethan!” You frantically pat his face hoping he’d come to but he wasn’t responding. “H-Hey…Open your eyes!” You cry out. Lifting his head to be upright. Your teary-eyed vision was blurred. “Hey, open your eyes for me!” You sniffled as you feel for his pulse. It was still there but faint. Your head falls onto his chest sighing in relief but you still grew weary. You pulled back and wiped under your nose. You had a plan and you had to act fast on it.

“What are you doing?” Sam questions you as you start pushing up the black robe up his torso. You lifted the hem up, ripping the cloth so it wouldn’t touch the knife lodged into his side. You push it up and then work on getting his arms out of the holes. When the costume drapes over his neck you carefully hold his neck and take it off him completely. The gloves he wore were next. “Y/n, what are you doing?” Sam cuts in again but doesn’t stop you. You sniffle wiping your nose once more as you rid him of the costume.

“H-He’s not going down for this...” You stand.

“You can’t be serious!” She scoffs.

“I am, burn it!” You toss her the costume and gloves. “He can’t get the help he needs if he’s locked up.”

“Maybe that’s what he needs. To go to jail! He killed our friends!” She solemnly reminds you. You look down closing your eyes. “Anika, Chad!”

“I know! I know that! I know it, okay…please, I just need him to not be incarcerated right now okay? You don’t have to forgive him. Hell, I don’t even think I can.“ Tears fall down your face. You press your hands against your stomach. “I at least would like to not go through this alone without him.” Your blurred vision meets her conflicted expression. She doesn’t know what to do or say. “I don’t know if this makes me fucked up for not wanting him to die or go to jail. I can’t look past what he’s done to us I know that. I know that. Anika was very dear to me. I don’t know if I have the strength to forgive him, but he’s my person. I gave him every piece of myself for months, and he made everything feel like it was all for nothing in a second. A second Sam, he broke me in a second and he’s this baby's father and I hate him for what he’s done. What do I do with that, Sam?” You plea. “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?” You cup your forehead. “H-He said he wouldn’t have saved me…What the fuck do I do with that?” You point to him.

“You let him go.” Tara cuts in. You meet her somber expression.

“I don’t know if I can…”

“It’s not an easy thing to do,” Sam says. “It’s your call here though.” You meet her gaze. “But the way I see it. There’s really only two ways this can go tonight. You can save him, and let him go, or let him die.” Water brims your waterline as she says this. You look back down to the guy who put you back together and then slammed his fist down on your finished puzzle. All your pieces felt scattered now, with no way of resembling your broken heart. Had it really been two choices this whole time? One of life or one of death. One of love or one of loss. Sam made it seem so easy. Yet this was the hardest choice you’ve ever had to decide on. What was to be was up to you now. You could save him or you could let him go…

-

The ultimatum Sam left you with had taken a huge toll on you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of going through with either decision. The thought of losing him at all didn’t sit right with you. It only made you want to fight for him more, especially now.

“Y/n. Y/n?” You come out of your daze as the hand that waves in front of your face becomes clear. You blink rapidly, shaking your head. “Hey, you okay?”

“Sorry, what?” Your cheeks heat up as Sam shakes her head. 

“You okay? I lost you there for a second.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. I was just thinking.”

“Wanna talk about it?” She nudges you.

“No. No not today. I wanna enjoy this day and forget about everything.” Your smile grows as the faint giggles of your little one go in and out of your ears. You and Sam laugh as Ethan chases after her, his hands out like false claws. The growls he emits causes her to scream and run away so as to not be caught by him. When he catches her she squeals as he attacks her with kisses. You lean back on your hands content, as he walks over to you. Sam, having just gotten up to play frisbee with the others.

“Argh!” He takes a playful bite out of her cheek. He falls over the blanket and pretends to faint. 

“Mommy, daddy’s being silly.”

“He is silly.” You giggle as he peers over at her with one eye. Giggles emit from her as she plops on top of his chest. 

“Daddy wake up.” She pokes at his cheeks, a slight pout on her lips.

Ethan lets out a fake yawn and wakes up. “Mmm? What happened?” He looks around, you and Sammy shake your heads at his antics. He sits up and stretches his arms above his head. You sneak a glance at where his shirt rises. His stomach, and a bit of a happy trail peek out. Your staring isn’t lost on him. It’s not long before he’s scooting over to your side, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You hum contently, turning your head to grant him a smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mmm?” You furrow your brows. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong?” You chuckle, brushing back his curls with your hand. Your palm slides down to his cheek. Holding him as he stares at you with concern. 

“You’ve been dazing off a lot. It’s got us all worried.” Ethan adverts his gaze to glance at the others playing frisbee. “It’s got me worried. You were like this after Samantha was born, I just want to make sure that whatever you’re going through that you’re not alone and I’m here if you want to ta-”

“Shhh. Hey.” You trace over his bottom lip gently. “I’m okay. I promise. I just get thrown back to that night sometimes. It’s just hard to shake the memories.” You shrug it off. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” He frowns. 

“I’d tell you if something else was bothering me.” You lean in and kiss his cheek.

“Promise.”

“Yes, my love, I promise...” You exaggerate your voice, bursting into fits of giggles, as he rolls his eyes at your antics. Upon the sounds of your laughter, Samantha’s curiosity is peaked as she finds her parents snuggly and close. You both turn as she plops on top of you both causing you to groan.

“Oh ho.” You both groan as you embrace her. “What is Uncle Chad feeding you? You’re getting so big, my love! What happened to my little Sammy? You’re growing up so fast!” You coo, cupping her chubby cheeks. The pout she pulls gnaws at your heartstrings. You and Ethan sit up.

“It was only an ice cream. Uncle Chad told me not to tell you...I’m sorry.”

“What? Oh, baby no. It’s okay. We’re not mad. It’s okay to have sweets, especially today of all days, my birthday girl. We just don’t want your tummy to hurt if you do eat too much okay? We’re not mad at you, baby.” You pull her in and plant a big kiss on her cheeks. Ethan kisses her other cheek. 

“Okay, mommy.” Samantha nods.

“What flavor was it?” Ethan smirks, leaning in as he asks her.

“Chocolate and strawberry.” Her eyes light up.

“Chocolate and strawberry! And you didn’t save me some! Aw, man!” He falls on his back.

“We can go get you one Daddy.” Ethan lifts his head at her suggestion.

“Do I get the double scoops?”

“I-I don’t know...if mommy says it’s okay.” Samantha shrugs. Next thing you know, Ethan meets your gaze with a cheeky smile. 

“What do you say, mommy, can daddy get two scoops?” He pouts at you, fluttering his eyelashes.

“As long as you bring back one for Mommy, then I say it’s okay.” You scrunch your nose, as you poke her stomach playfully. Her giggles have you beaming with joy.

“Yes!” Ethan claps, standing up to full height. Now once again towering over you and Samantha. “Come on Sammy, let’s go.” He extends his hand out for her to take.

“Thank you, mommy!” She kisses you on the lips and takes Ethan’s hands. 

“Muah!” You smile at her.

“Brb. You want a combo right?” He looks down at you on the blanket.

“I’m kind of craving that chocolate and strawberry combo now.” You giggle.

“One chocolate and strawberry ice cream for mommy, coming right up! Argh, you’re so big!” He fake groans as he bends down for Samantha to get on his back. “Stop growing!” He teases, then sprints off to the ice cream cart that was on the other side of the park. 

“You’re silly, daddy!” Samantha chuckles.

“Super silly...” You mutter to yourself as you watch them walk across the grass.

[quichein-me-softly]

unrequited w/ sans

(Plot: You been in love with Sans, your best friend, for three years, but Sans can’t return those feelings. After Sans begins seeing Toriel, he inadvertently hurts you by talking about his growing affection for her. Though you try to mask your heartbreak, Sans sees through the facade. He acknowledges your feelings, apologizing gently without outright rejection, knowing it’s "for the better." You break down, and in a painful twist, Sans comforts you, even though he’s the one who rejected you. Despite the heartbreak, Sans remains by your side, offering silent, bittersweet support.)

(author's note: we're gettin' down and angsty again. whoop whoop! oh and here is sans' pov :P)

Time had a way of dragging things out when feelings were involved.

You’d harbored them for over three years now—this quiet, steady love for Sans, your best friend. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it started, but somewhere between his dry humor and the rare glimpses of the deeper, serious side he kept hidden, your heart had been caught. You tried to play it off at first, tried to convince yourself it wasn’t real, but the feelings stuck. And grew.

He never noticed, at least not openly. Sans was good at keeping things easy, deflecting the heavy stuff with a joke, a wink, or a quick shift in topic. And you let him, because it was easier that way. But now, watching him with her—Toriel—it all felt heavier than you could bear.

His deeply smitten voice breaks you from your thoughts.

“heh, you should’ve seen her, sunshine,” Sans says, his voice full of warmth. “we went out to this little café, y’know the one near the library? she was crackin’ up at every bad joke i threw her way.”

You force a smile, feeling your heart sink with every word. Sitting across from him at Grillby’s, in your usual spot, the space between you feels wider than ever. He’s talking about Toriel again, and you try to listen, to be the supportive friend you’ve always been. But every time he says her name, paired with the pet name he once gave you, it twists the knife just a little deeper.

“That sounds great. I’m really happy for you, Sans.” you manage, your voice light, even though it feels like your chest is caving in.

Sans gives you a long look, and for a moment, you’re afraid he sees right through you. But then he laughs softly, eyes flicking back down to his ketchup. “yeah, she’s somethin’ else, y’know? she’s just got this... way about her.”

Those words hit you like a punch to the gut, tears prickling behind your eyes. You’d spent months trying to be that person for him—trying to make him laugh, to offer the same warmth he gave you. But it was never enough, was it? You weren’t her.

“I’m glad you found someone like that,” you whisper, hoping your voice doesn’t break. You glance down at the fries on your plate, suddenly losing your appetite.

Sans is quiet for a moment, and that’s when you realize—he’s noticed. He always notices, even when he doesn’t say anything. It’s one of the reasons you fell for him in the first place. He reads you like no one else can, and it’s both a blessing and a curse.

“listen,” he says softly, his tone losing its usual playful edge. “i... i'm sorry.”

Your stomach drops. You blink, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill. “For what?”

“i’m so sorry.” he says softly, his voice full of regret. “just... know it’s for the better.”

You nod, though your chest aches with the effort. You knew this was coming. You’d known from the moment you saw the way he looked at Toriel. It wasn’t hard to see why he was drawn to her. She was kind, patient, everything you admired in him reflected back in her. But knowing that didn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

For a moment, you can’t breathe. It’s not an outright rejection, but the meaning is clear. He can’t be with you. He never could. And hearing him say it, even in this roundabout way, makes it all so much worse.

You nod again, swallowing back the tears that threaten to spill over. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I know.”

But you don’t know. Not really. It doesn’t feel like it’s for the better. It feels like your heart is being ripped apart, and the worst part is that he’s still here, still being Sans—still the kind, caring friend who’s trying to make this easier for you. And it hurts even more because these are the very qualities you love about him. The qualities that make it impossible for you to just move on.

The tears start to fall, and you hate yourself for it, for breaking in front of him like this. But Sans, in his usual quiet way, shifts closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t make a joke to lighten the mood. Instead, he stays there with you, through the heaviness, even if he’s the one who caused it.

You feel yourself breaking, the tears slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back. You turn away, trying to hide it, but Sans sees. He always sees.

Without a word, he pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you in that familiar, gentle way that only he can. It hurts worse. “i’m so sorry, sunshine,” he whispers again, and this time, you can’t hold back. You sob into his hoodie, your hands gripping the fabric as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your shoulder. “let it out. i’m here.”

That’s what hurts the most. He is here, supporting you through your heartbreak, even though he’s the one who turned you down. And yet, it’s those same qualities—his kindness, his care, the way he’s always present when you need him—that made you fall for him in the first place.

He holds you tighter, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back, and for a moment, it feels like the world has stopped. It’s cruel, really. The way he’s here, comforting you through the loss, even though he’s the one you’re losing. The one who broke your heart, even though he never meant to.

“i wish things were different,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “i really do.”

You know he means it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. You pull away slightly, wiping at your eyes, embarrassed by how vulnerable you’ve become. But Sans just gives you a soft smile, the kind that shows he understands more than he’s letting on.

“we’ll be okay,” he says quietly. “promise.”

You keep nodding, even though you’re not sure you believe him. But it’s Sans, and he’s always been there for you. Maybe this time, you’ll believe it for his sake—and maybe yours, too.

As the night wears on, the pain lingers, but so does his warmth. And even though it feels like everything has changed, in this moment, you still have him. Even if it’s not in the way you wanted.

[justallihere]

AHHHH I was right about Xaden giving Vi his jacket 🥹 that’s her jacket now, get with the program Xaden

speechless. I loved everything about this chapter 😭 I screamed when they threatened to cut her hair. Aetos didnt suffer enough imo and neither did his cronies. I at least wanted them to be screaming and have a glimpse of Andarna throwing them around or at least step on them a few times 🤷🏾‍♀️

Violet’s panic attack made me sob so hard 😭 why did Pierce stop and leave when that happened? I’m glad he did but that’s probably the closest they came to possibly getting something of value

Xaden has touch AND nickname privileges again 😭 he said “Vi” as much as he could because he’s not losing it again. I’m sure he’s glad his family loves and respects Violet and just reaffirms everything he himself feels for her. I can definitely see Liam teasing Xaden in the future with “just remember, your wife loved me first 🤭”. Obvs during happier times when they’ve healed from this ordeal.

One of my biggest gripes in IF was how blasé the torture fallout was. Like?? Wdym she was tortured for 5 days and could’ve died and it meant nothing??

Loved your spin on Lilith🥹💕💕💕 I agree she died way too soon. She so dynamic and layered and had so much potential. She deserved to become a better mother before she died and I’ll forever be mad about that.

Will Lilith be the one to bring half the quadrant when she finally gets to Tyrrendor 👀 what if she brings seasoned riders loyal to her and riders stationed at outposts and any professor (looking at you Emeterrio and Kaori) willing to join the fight? I think her arrival will be better received that way since she’s bringing reinforcements. AHHHH so exciteddd.

Can’t wait to see where the story goes, either way I’m sure it’ll be amazing!!!

All of Xaden’s things are about to become Violet’s. Try to get her to wear her own clothes now I dare you.

lol I get it, but Aetos’ death was something that was between him and Dain, and Violet was so tired and scared and in pain by the end of it that she didn’t even really care anymore, she just wanted them dead and to never see them again. I promise Andarna and Tairn had plenty of fun.

I’d argue that the panic attack was the exact opposite of value. Yes Violet was losing her mind but she was so scared in that moment she wouldn’t have been able to give them anything coherent. Pierce wanted her to stew in that panic for a while.

You could not DRAG Xaden out of Violet’s sight rn. Neither one of them would allow it. But yes, he is so glad to have her back, and he’s happy that she had Liam when she needed him. I do like to think that Liam takes great pride in getting an “I love you” from Violet considering how not warm and fuzzy she is. That’s his bestie! His sister!

I love Lilith, she’s the worst and also the best and I’ll never be over her death I’m so upset

Thank you so much!! 🩷🩷

[lyranova]

As promised here are my “in depth” thoughts about Black Clover: Sword of the Wizard King movie!

Warning Spoilers below!

I thought the movie was pretty fun and exciting! The different team ups between characters were amazing, and they showed off characters and squads (ie; Mantis’s and Lions) who didn’t really get their “times to shine” much in the anime and they introduced really interesting characters with the Wizard Kings!

My favorite team up (besides the BBs ofc) had to be Fue, Nozel, Yami, and Yuno. Not only because 3/4 are my faves (I’ll admit Nozel is growing on me 👀) but because it was so interesting to see, I mean, we’ve seen Nozel and Fue team up before, but we haven’t really seen them team up with either Yami or Yuno. At least not that I can remember. Also we never got to see Yami and Yuno team up with each other either, so that was really fun and exciting to see 😁!

I also LOVED Mereo’s fight against FunnyBunny in the desert, like, it was so awesome to see! I’m glad we got to see just how much Mereo’s squad and brothers mean to her as well and how they give her strength to keep fighting, it really warmed my heart 😭! Also FunnyBunny has my favorite magic out of the Wizard Kings besides Conrad, it just looks so cool 😱’

The BB’s fight was sooo great too! Like the Ice mage’s Chapel and spells were really interesting to me 👀, and I loved the different team ups between the Bulls (like Magna and Gordon, Zora, Nero, and Luck) and how it shows just how great they all worked as a team! NOELLE WAS SO AMAZING THO!! Like we got to see her kick some serious butt against that old guy and just show off how cool her Valkyrie armor is 😁👏!

And I gotta shout out Grey because she showed off her transmutation magic and was absolutely great 🥺, I also loved the “blink and you’ll miss it” moment with her and Gauche 🥰!

I also love the contrast between Asta and Conrad, like, they’re so similar but so different. Asta could have easily become like Conrad if he let all the hate and discrimination that the Nobles and Royals threw at him get to him, but also what happened to Conrad’s family and friends contributed to that mindset too 😅.

WE GOT NACHT and LIEBE CAMEO’s!!! AAAAAHHHHH I WAS SO HAPPY WHEN I SAW THEM LIKE 😭😭💕💕💕!! ALSO WE GOT TO SEE LEOPOLD BEING COOL AND FIGHT AGAINST ONE OF THE WIZARD KINGS!

And finally…I NEED MORE LORE ON THE WIZARD KINGS LIKE??? I NEED IT, WHAT WERE THOSE SMALL GLIMPSES OF THE PAST? WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM, WHY WERE THEY ALL STRIPPED OF THEIR RANK?? DID THE ICE MAGE KNOW NOELLE SOMEHOW?? I NEED TO KNOW PLEASE I BEG OF YOU 😭😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏!!!!

My only gripes would be that we didn’t get to see much of Julius and that sometimes I got dizzy and i actually had to close my eyes at one point 😅. But that’s really my only gripes.

Now onto my mother 👀!

Firstly; She thinks Conrad is a cheaty cheaty cheater who does nothing but cheat 😆! She finds Jester annoying af, she said FunnyBunny was Black Clover’s Erza Scarlet, and…she didn’t have any opinions on the Ice Mage other than she felt he was related to Noelle in some way 😅!

She felt the movie was very disappointing, and I think her main problem was with the storyline and character development.

She said it was her least favorite and, in her opinion, the least interesting. She felt that she couldn’t really connect with the bad guys and that the good guys didn’t really “earn” their win since they didn’t get any power upgrades or anything, which is understandable. I think if the movie had been broken up into episodes and more was able to be shown that she would have liked it more 🤔.

She did have parts of it she liked tho! Mainly with Mereo (she is my moms favorite BC female character) 😆.

She loved when Mereo was first shown and said quote: “Yeah She doesn’t play around, she will not hesitate to kick your ass” 😆! She also loved when Mereo grabbed Sekke by the head before he could run away “He deserved it!” was her reasoning as to why she liked it.

And finally she found it HILARIOUS when Grey turned the Ice into Water and Magna began surfing and just randomly said “Alright here we go!”.

I don’t know why she found it so funny, and in turn so did I, but I think it was because of how his VA said it 😆!

Anywho, that's just our opinion. I liked it. Mom didn’t. It happens 😅!

[mar-zom]

responding to your post about the aot ending. (if this doesn’t work for what you wanted don’t answer but i thought i’d open up about this!)

i just finished attack on titan a few days ago. because before that, i hated what i saw. like, from the perspective of someone who got all their information from manga clippings on tumblr. and here’s why i hated it with every fiber of my being:

a) i hated marley. i didn’t like reiner or zeke, i hated gabi, and i hated how much attention they got in the final season/issues. i wanted to see our main cast, not these side characters who ruined everything. (after finally finishing it, i have a new appreciation. i still dislike gabi and zeke, and i’m not the biggest fan of reiner. but i found myself absolutely adoring porco and colt and pieck and it gave me room to open up)

b) i hated eren. he went from the protagonist we were supposed to adore to the antagonist we were fighting against and i thought it was too bold of a choice and i couldn’t get on board with it. the whole conversation with armin and mikasa… ugh. i was infuriated. and everything i saw only furthered that. the rumbling?? mikasa kissing his decapitated head??? it was all so weird and upsetting to me. (i sobbed over the scene where she kissed him. i cried through the intro every time. he was a child. he just wanted to save his friends.)

c) levi. i was BEYOND convinced that without hange in the picture, he couldn’t have a happy ending. i was livid that he survived. i was infuriated that he survived AND didn’t ever fully heal from his physical injuries. it felt like they had taken everything from him, and i was so mad about it. (i made a whole post about how wrong i was about this one)

so, yeah! these were the reasons that it took me several years to finally actually finish attack on titan, and see that the ending isn’t as bad as i had previously thought.

Thank you for answering and wanting to share your opinion! Even though you had rocky opinions starting out i’m glad you were able to finish it in the end, no matter how your opinions changed or stayed the same!

Here’s my thoughts: (feel free to skip if you’re not interested)

It took me a really long time to finish AOT as well, i started watching it when Season 1 came out and then was hesitant to watch any further when the next season was added because i was nervous about how the story would go, im glad i finished it when i did though because i grew up and was able to understand the plot a lot better.

i can completely relate on not liking Gabi or Zeke, even after finishing the show i still strongly dislike them. though i feel a little neutral when it comes to Reiner and the other Warriors. I feel bad for Reiner and how far he was pushed even after he had wanted to die but his actions were still awful, i do not sympathize with him but i do pity him. Marley is still unforgivable in my eyes.

As far as Eren goes, i’m pretty neutral on him, it’s very Love Hate relationship between me and him. It was the first time i’ve ever seen a protagonist become the antagonist (or at least an anti-hero) so it was very shocking. I hate Eren because he made the decision without anyone else’s consideration and believed it was okay, even after we get a glimpse of his talk with Armin in the final episode he still did The Rumbling. I love him because i feel bad for him, he was just a kid when he was pushed into the role of a Titan shifter and everyone in the Survey Corps took advantage of his titan, seeing him as a tool rather than anything else.

I believe that how things ended was the only way things could have ended, everyone was pushed to the extreme and killing Eren was the only way to end the story (i know a lot of people have problems with the ending because of Eren dying)

I was happy to see that Levi got a (overall) neutral ending (imo) although i agree that without Hange in the picture it would be hard to see Levi surviving I believe that Hange dying was the final straw with him so you can imagine my surprise to see that he survived AND then was in a portion where he was being very kind and generous to the kids (though it makes sense because he had been in the same position as them before) i’m very happy he survived in the end

In the end, i didn’t side with either sides of the war because overall, there were no completely good people with good intentions, and i was glad it turned out that way because no one is entirely good. Nothing is ever black and white.

Overall it’s really interesting to see what other people think of the ending so thanks for sharing!

[chidoroki]

Black Clover ch354

Fair warning that I am going to ramble on quite a bit this time and it’s all thanks to Lucius who decided to be the clever, little villain he is and conjure up a plan that I had very much feared for my own well being and the great turmoil it would inflict on some favorite characters of mine. That plan consisting of bringing even more powerful mages back to life, specifically those such as Morgen and Acier. (I also figured he’d revive people like Lumiere or Licita as well, but nope, not yet anyways. Or he might not at all, I dunno.) Now for Morgen, there’s no way I could’ve anticipated him in this first panel. Acier however? OH I noticed her INSTANTLY. All thanks to those Silva sandals of hers. We’ve seen Noelle so often throughout the story (and me personally rewatching/rereading many of Nozel’s moments too) that the family’s choice in footwear is just so noticeable. Chances are I might’ve recognized Morgen right away had I focused on his chapters more too, but I didn’t. My flimsy point here is my nerves were sent straight to the edge right from the beginning and it’s almost hilarious how quick a tiny shoe detail instilled so much fear and anticipation into my heart.

As I hoped last chapter, we skip right to judgement day, which I’m sorta on the fence about now that I think about it? Yea I’m real glad we’re finally back in Clover, but still kinda wish we got to see how everyone else prepared for the fight, or their efforts to try and find Asta. We could very well get flashbacks to both later on so I’m not worried. And if we don’t, then whatever, it’s fine. I’m very excited to see Yuno fight alongside William, however where we’re all located right now is a tiny bit concerning? I understand they evacuated everyone into the noble realm for protection, which is great, but if y’all are gonna fight the big bad threat here, how safe can they truly be, ya know? Regardless of that, I noticed Yuno’s left arm is still bandaged up like it was in ch336 and I dunno if there was a reason for it that I most likely forgot about or what (but if we’re all clueless then oooh mystery~). Oh, and because the previously mentioned footwear got my nerves shot, I also took note of how a certain handsome captain wasn’t included in this rooftop lineup and it got me even more worried that he would indeed encounter the lovely lady in the Silva sandals on his own.

Thankfully I didn’t have to fret much longer to finally see Nozel after patiently waiting for many months! Of course I’m relieved to see Mereoleona, Fuegoleon and Rill too, but also others that haven’t received nearly as much screentime. I genuinely want to see more of Randall and Fragil, and hell, all the Purple Orcas honestly. I feel like they get left out on so much, like we barely see Kaiser and he’s the captain. The only Orca we know a lot about is Zara and he’s..- oh my god, what if Lucius revives him too?? OH NO!.. Ah, I digress, but sure we’ve got glimpses of their magic once or twice before as they each had their brief spotlight, but I wanna see them all have a badass moment of some kind! If this is the final battle then we should see just how strong and capable everyone is, yeah? Also, just realized Dorothy ain’t around? Wonder where she might be.

Keep in mind I’m still highly anticipating a certain steel princess to descend into battle but for now I can at least take a breath and appreciate this short YamiChar moment. Happy to see Charlotte apologizing for running away so much recently but feeling even more giddy at the fact Yami essentially set up a date for the two of them. AND how he remembered she and booze don’t mix well and offered tea instead, like how cute of him is that? Unexpected sweet side of him aside, this man looks so exhausted. Has he been worrying about Asta this whole time? Or judgement day? Or both. Possibly that.

Now the calm before the storm is finally over, much to Jack’s impatient and soon-to-be-temporary relief, as Lucius and a newly revealed Morgen suddenly appear behind the rooftop crew. Yeah it would be easy to confuse Nacht and Morgen with that perpetual smile always on both their faces, but the robe here does sorta kinda resemble that of the Grey Deer of which Morgen was a member of. Jack’s comment does make me wonder where Nacht could be if he hasn’t been seen these past couple of days. No doubt with the other Bulls, possibly attempting to locate Asta or something.

But oohh boy, not even ten seconds into the fight and we already got some serious damage on our side. Morgen straight up broke his blade, put a gashing hole right through his stomach and sliced his arm clean off, all in one move! For a dude who loves to cut things up, this is some horrible irony for Jack. For real I have no idea how he’ll recover from this. Granted, William is close by and could summon up a healing tree or whatever he calls it, but y’all gotta be quick about it! Like, super sonic speed fast considering Morgen has light magic and thanks to Patry we all know how much of a pain that could be.

Silly me was so focused on the Silvas during the raw leaks that I barely even thought about the reunion between Yami and Morgen. Sure I was worried about Nacht seeing him again, if and whenever he does eventually show up, but him and Yami were real close friends too. Looking forward to see dark and light magic clash against each other this time. Ohh and our captain dropped his cig, so you know it’s about to get serious.

Now, I dunno if there’s any relation to having Morris paired against the Crimson Lions, but if there is then it’s certainly not as soul shattering as who Morgen and Acier are set on fighting with. Always down to see our undefeated lioness go all out though. Oh, but in this moment I just realized something.. how would Mereo react knowing that Acier is back? Of course I want the Silva siblings to have their moment against their mother, but damn, I’d love to see both women actually battle for once too! Imagine if this was the one time Acier lost to her.. that’d be pretty sweet.

Okay so now is the time I go full on Nozel fangirl and I won’t apologize for any of it, but y’all.. lemme tell you that this encounter has already got me so emotional (and not much has even happened yet!). Back during ch343, just the tiny possibility of Acier being revived entered my head and it struck me with so much worry, so the fact that it is actually happening right here and now is gonna give me several heart attacks. I was completely fine with the brief moment Nozel and Noelle had with Acier’s soul in 303. It was so touching and that entire chapter is what made me love Nozel so much, as it revealed a lot of his character and finally allowed him to own up to his mistakes, to see how strong and persistent he is and to finally be free. Even though we didn’t get to see anything of the recent year and a half timeskip after Spade, I’m sure he became much more relaxed, since he didn’t have to worry about the curse anymore, and possibly have a more meaningful bond with Noelle. Maybe the whole family is doing better now as a whole too, at least I’d like to hope so. I wanted to see this new, improved Nozel so badly (and I sincerely hope the anime expands on that timeskip one day, whenever it returns), but now I have to endure seeing my man stressed beyond belief because he has to fight the mother he loves and respects so much?? WHY?! I want him happy for once in his life and this is the furthest thing from it! In fact, he looks positively pissed off! I have no doubt his anger is more towards Lucius for pulling off this stunt rather than Acier herself. Not to mention that when Nozel last saw her soul in ch303 she was at peace and finally free in a sense, and now he has to watch her fight again against her own will. Sure he’s probably frightened too, I mean it’s not every day your mom comes back to life in front of your eyes (even in a world with magic), but I think his reaction is an interesting contrast compared to Nebra and Solid. The two of them are in complete shock and look far more upset, which is kinda reasonable since neither one has seen their mother since before her death when she was all frail and weak, so seeing her appear suddenly with all that power has got to be chilling.

Now then, I could very well be in the minority for this, but whenever Noelle does join the battle (because she will, I’m certain), I sorta pray she doesn’t do too much? Of course I want her to finally see her mother since she died when Noelle was so very young, but you guys have no idea how badly I want this fight to center more around Nozel (and the other two siblings, sure). Lemme try and explain. As part of the main cast, we’ve seen Noelle level up and have these grand spotlight moments throughout the entire story. While she and Nozel both played a major part in defeating Megicula, due to their personal reasons of avenging Acier (both) and Lolopechka (Noelle), it was still our Bull who landed the final blow against that devil. At the end of the day I just want a big moment for Nozel okay? And I feel like him having the biggest role in this fight against Acier would be such a wonderful way to go about it. Not to mention that this man is in serious need of some kind of power up. Thankfully he’s been strong throughout the entire story, as is required of a squad captain, and he’s no doubt had fantastic displays of strength in both manga and anime, but we’ve seen him pull out the same spells time and time again. A handful of other captains have improved over the story, such as Yami and his different dark slashes, Mereoleona’s hellfire, Fuegoleon with Salamander, as well as Charlotte, Rill and Jack all stepping it up during the Spade invasion. Of course I enjoy the spells Nozel uses now, but he still deserves a bit of an upgrade. Way back in ch178/ep108, Acier expressed how excited she was to see what spells he’ll learn when he received his grimoire, but never got the chance to see any of it due to her untimely death, so I think now is the perfect moment for him to learn something new to spice things up! Like can we give my man some mercury armor please?? Imagine how damn proud Acier would be. And hell, if Noelle can figured out such a spell then it should be no problem for Nozel. I mean, the story praises his level of mana control all the time. Also think it would be pretty interesting to see similar magic such as steel and mercury fight against one another, even more so that they’re around the same age here, which is kinda funny to think about. At least I think so, right..? Acier was in her early thirties when she passed so Nozel has to be about the same age now with all the timeskips we’ve had since the very beginning. Anyways, I really dunno how well Nebra’s mist and Solid’s water will fair against Acier? I see the two of them providing more support than anything. Again, they also look a bit scared to even attack her. Nozel might not have zetten like the Ryuzen Seven or anti-magic like Asta (both methods that proved to defeat paladins), but I’m sure that he certainly has the resolve to fight back. The ch303 flashback showed us how badly he had wanted to save Acier from the curse and the regret of having failed and believing he “killed” her due to watching helplessly. He can certainly redeem himself (in his own mind, I personally have ages ago) during this fight and prove he did indeed become stronger than her by stopping Lucius’ control over her with little to no hesitation. Long ramble aside, I just think it would be far more impactful for Nozel to fight (& win) against Acier due to his magic, history and feelings revolving around Acier rather than Noelle coming in later and claiming another victory solely because it’s her mother she’s never seen or spent time with before.

Oh, also wanted to mention this but the previous chunk of text was getting hella long already, but I wonder how Acier feels about all this? We know from Asta’s fight against paladin Lily that her feelings were still sorta buried deep within, so perhaps Acier won’t go too hard on her children? Or she totally could thrash them..if only to judge how strong they’ve all become. Anyways, do we know if paladins such as Acier and Morgen will die again once defeated? Lily was put into some kind of sleep til Lucius is defeated, but with Heath (who was also revived), it wasn’t really clear if he was killed again or just knocked out last chapter? I dunno. I don’t wanna get my hopes up at the slim possibility of Acier actually getting a second chance at life with her children but oh god, that would certainly warm my heart. And if not, I hope the four of them at least get the chance to say their goodbyes. Speaking of paladins, I don’t think we’ll only have these three to worry about. I’m not entirely sure what all those angel/bird things Lucius has flying around in the sky now, but it can’t be good news. I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes control over more people too, considering he took over Lily pretty effortlessly.

I still have Lumiere and Licita as potential paladins; half because their magic would be very problematic, half because of the drama it would start with Secre and Asta. Yeah anti-magic and/or a real powerful hit like zetten can apparently cancel out Lucius’ control, but surely there has to be more solutions right? Asta is bound to show up eventually..somehow.. but I dunno if the whole Ryuzen Seven would accompany him to Clover as backup. Would be nice of course and I would accept it, if only to see Yami and Ichika meet up again. I do have a random thought that is sort of a longshot, but ya think the Witch Queen could assist at all? Maybe take control back from people with her blood magic or something? How cool would it be if she could flip the switch on the paladin’s minds and have them fight on our side? It would be precious to see Morgen and Nacht team up as well as Acier and all her children. Or queen could do literally anything else, whatever. We really dunno too much about her and it’s been ages since she’s appeared in the story.  I’d happily welcome her if she returned at Vanessa’s request. Imagine if she and the other Bulls went to the witches’ forest to inquire if the queen could see the future regarding Asta or judgement day. It’s a highly unlikely idea but hey if my hope of having Acier encounter her children was possible then I’m holding onto it! good lord i haven’t rambled on this much since tpn. i kinda miss it.

[a-moth-to-the-light]

The Ultimate Crossover Episode (Epilogue)

Giving K-pop Groups (and Soloists!) Bruce Springsteen Songs

content warnings for mentions of death & chronic illness! this is a pretty intense piece, so take care of yourselves, and feel free to check out the other parts of this series (see: #six stans springsteen) for some much lighter content!

A Tentative Endorsement of Bruce Springsteen's "I'm On Fire"

My chronic pain is an action movie where nothing happens. You get all the swells of soundtrack; all the dramatic lighting; all those moments of pure terror, of catching a glimpse of death in the corner of your eye and trying to pretend it isn't there--but then the footage, the plot of the movie itself, is just a girl lying on a couch, earbuds in and eyes shut tight, heating pad wrapped around her wrist. The room is empty, and you would guess she was asleep except for the expressions that cross her face--a wince, and then something like a silent sob. And the soundtrack crescendoes, and you wait for something to happen. Will an antagonist come attack her, in her moment of weakness? Will she finally have someone to fight? But the scene stays the same--empty. She stays the same--almost, but not quite, sleeping. And then: that's the movie, you can head home now. There won't be anything new to see, not for a long while.

In the summer of 2021, I took to describing my pain by saying "I'm on fire" or "I'm burning up". Something under my skin was burning, burning, a river of lava coursing beneath the facade of a perfectly healthy body. And, on days when it got really bad, I took to listening to Bruce Springsteen's "I'm On Fire". Let's take a minute to introduce this track: it's a short song, not even three minutes long, tucked in the middle of Springsteen’s 1984 album, Born in the USA. It's not the best song on the album (not anywhere close, in my opinion), and it's not the most interesting, either. But it may well be my favorite, and it's definitely my most-listened, song from Born in the USA. I love “I’m On Fire”--not in a way that’s easy to comprehend or express, not in a way I’m proud of or happy about. But, since I talked about it in my Enhypen post, I've wanted to at least try to explain what this song means to me.

As my health deteriorated and my terror increased in that summer of pain, the first summer I spent with that chronic illness, I found so much comfort in singing along the simple hook of "I'm On Fire", a hook that I don't think was meant to be about what it became about to me. But it didn't matter; woah, oh, oh, I'm on fire. How different, after all, is it to be burning mentally rather than physically? And the burning got to my mind, eventually. I was still new to the pain, then, barely seven months new, and I was convinced the burning would take me out any day that summer. You know it's nothing because the doctors say it's nothing, that there's nothing terribly wrong with you, but it feels like you have to give out at some point, right? Like, death must be in the room, otherwise there's no way my body would be screaming this loudly. My chronic pain is hearing a fire alarm go off all day, every day, but being told whenever I ask: "Oh, there's no fire." Like, I guess it's nice that there's no fire--I guess I should be glad. But then why won't the goddamned alarm stop screaming at me? How am I supposed to pretend this is normal?

So, that summer, my life became a movie, one where I looked just like I always had and sat around the house, becoming perpetually attached to my heating pad and moving as little as possible, for fear of setting something off by accident and making the pain even worse. In later seasons, my existence would become more normal, waking up in the morning less surprising to me, and with that, the fear less gripping. And I would start to move again, learning to block out the fire alarm that soundtracks my existence.

But there's still “I’m On Fire”. My dad, who was my introduction to Springsteen and who I, as a result, share most of my Springsteen favorites with, hates "I'm On Fire". And I get why, but I love the song anyway. I could listen to it all day. And I guess I could justify that opinion in a nice, reviewer-y way: the texture of the guitar instrumental is gorgeous, and the melodies are sticky & perfect for singing along to, despite how flatly Springsteen performs them.

But I don’t know, I don’t really care a lot about “I’m On Fire” being good. And I don't care a lot about it being bad, either. I don't care that the lyrics give me the creeps; I don't care that it's really a big nothing of a song, even compared to Springsteen's own "Nothing Man". I just know that it captures something about my summer of 2021, a summer that remains queen of my nightmares--it captures how those months were terrifying and yet so, so banal. You know, that feeling when Springsteen so casually sings, almost mutters, “someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull, and cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my soul”. Most songs, most artworks, most people, don’t get that feeling. These days, I don’t even really get it myself. Only occasionally do I understand how I felt back then--for example, right now, after listening to “I’m On Fire” for 20 minutes straight while I try to get these words out. I don’t like “I’m On Fire”, really, except for maybe those beautiful guitar clicks, but I love it. I love to sing its melodies; it’s a part of me now. It knows something about me, something about my history, that even I don’t really know anymore—maybe, honestly, that I try not to know.

Is this too sad of an ending for a series that's mostly just me being giddy about my favorite music? Yes, probably, but it still feels right to me. I love that Springsteen's music doesn't shy away from sadness; I dance to it anyway, sing to it anyway, and find comfort in it anyway. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed my bruceposting (which I'm sure this won't be the end of, since I'm seeing him in concert in a few months)!

[esta-elavaris]

Some people loved the whole discussion of virginity (or lack thereof) after Theo tells James the truth, and the fact that the disparity in attitudes towards that wasn’t something that I shied away from or just left unmentioned, but I also had some people who really, really didn’t like it and felt that I shouldn’t have gotten into it at all. It’s just a perfect example of not being able to please everybody, which is an occupational hazard. On the exact same day I was getting messages saying they were thrilled I addressed it, and others saying they wished I hadn’t - or that I should have just had Theo be a virgin. 

I can see where they were coming from and I’m happy that they felt comfortable sharing their opinions - if anything I expected it to be much less popular than it was - but I stand by it. One of the big things about the modern girl trope is addressing things like this, not doing so would feel like a cop-out, and the fact of the matter is that it would give James at least a bit of pause, as modern as his attitudes to women are (based on his taste in women). I did get a wee bit of misunderstanding towards it from the folk who hated it in terms of some thinking he was annoyed that Theo specifically wasn’t a virgin, but I tried to make it clear that he was bothered by it insofar as he thought it reflected on her moral character. 

Once he found out that in the world she came from, it wasn’t something that was morally frowned upon and therefore wasn’t a rule she could fairly be expected to play by, he was less bothered by her case specifically, although he remained iffy on what it said about modern society. (In the spin-off chapter where he visits the modern world I’m going to have him catch a glimpse of Love Island and really traumatise him xoxo) I digress, but maybe I should have made that all a bit clearer. 

Maybe there was a slither of caveman-ish jealousy there, but overall once he came to terms with it all I think he’d be really glad that she wouldn’t be scared or shying away during their first time? He’s hardly the type we see in darker period dramas where men just expect their wives to lie back and think of England, regardless of enjoyment, while they get their jollies. I’m sure I even brought it up again after they were married that he was a bit ashamed of himself for his reaction when she’d admitted it all to him in Tortuga? 

All in all, the feedback was all understandable, I do wonder if some of it was rooted in culture because I’m from a very liberal UK background so all of it is less of a loaded subject to me than some people with concerns purported it to be, but it is what it is, and I have to say I’d do it again. But I absolutely don’t blame anybody who decided the story wasn’t for them based on that, they gotta do what’s best for them and their tastes.

[chaewberry]

hi! i was the previous anon. i’m glad that you’re happy about the message! i was honestly overthinking it like “uh oh did i say too much…” and i might just have that worry again.

i will read the article when i have the time! (roland barthes has actually been on my back log for a bit…) for now, when you mention “when words fail, how will they reach out with touch instead” gets me even more psyched about future chapters. of course, no pressure. i feel there’s so much potential when it comes to plotting and what not. the concept of touch has a lot of ground to cover, especially when it’s one of the human senses, and it can have various effects on a person, as touch can corner, discomfort, soothe…things like that!

also, yay =3 “first phase of the fic” was what i was thinking about when commenting on the mc, because i genuinely DO want to come to love her. i already enjoy her interactions with the others; the dialogue is so immersive. (off topic-ish, this sort of thing reminds me of the mobile game “death palette” where this girl can be irritating in the beginning with how picky she can get but the player’s perspective of her changes by the end as the story progresses… at least that’s how it was for me, anyway. and that very sequence i’ve had may apply here.)

about diluc, relatable. we have so little of young diluc, from the webtoon to in-game character stories…we have a glimpse of him from merchandise and events as well. and depictions of him in fanworks can be so different from each other. regardless, i want to know more about him from your perspective. or the mc’s. either one fits.

FINALLY, in regards to style, i wanted to mention jane austen before. i got that impression because there was a time i was reading sense and sensibility and reading the art of touching reminded me of that time when i was wrapped up in every word (fondly of course). but it would’ve been embarrassing if i got it wrong 🥹 so i too am pleased to know i was on the mark ^_^

OKAY I’M MORE THAN A LITTLE SHY NOW. with this, i really hope you have a good time writing the art of touching!!!!!! (๑>◡<๑) i’ll show my support however i can~

you can never say to much lmao every chance i get to talk about this fic i grasp it! it's the only story i've poured so much passion into to be honest, i have written down the plot on paper and expanded upon it even. 'tis truly an accomplishment for a lazy person like moi.

as for the mc -- it's kind of a mixed bag concerning her personality and whether you come to like her or not lmao. i don't know if people will truly like her, hate her, or if it will be somthing in between. time will tell, however, and i can't wait hehehehehehe. i definitely want to see how i come to understant young diluc, what can i do to play with his character etc, etc. i know for certain the mc will enjoy tormernting young diluc and even later on when they're adults. though there will be a difference <3

jane austen's and virginia woolf's writing style hmm i need to consume them both.

once again, thank you for your support dear reader, and i hope you keep enjoying this story as it progresses!

[sansaorgana]

Finally watch The Bikeriders today and it changed my life.. I love those men, Cal, Johnny, Funny Sonny and more. Especially Benny,, ohh he’s the love of my life and I’m so sorry for this if you like Kathy ughh she’s just not vibin’ with me especially when she asked him to leave like ughh b*tch pleasee Ik he’s injured that time but he’s my tough sonavabich

And I was so glad when he left her but he came back to her huhuhuhuhuh okk that’s all 😘🥹🥺❣️✨

hello! I'm glad you liked the movie 🤭🥰 Benny is something else indeed although he's a bit more of an asshole than I expected – on the other hand it might be because real Benny was like only 19 😨 However Benny in the movie I assume is in his 20s but you know what they say – girls grow up faster than boys 🤣 I just really think it's Benny who didn't deserve Kathy – and I know she was not a saint herself, she had her flaws but she loved him, she worried about him, she took care of him and she stayed with him through all the things that would make most women leave (it's stupidity as she said herself)

my only problem with Benny and Kathy was I wish we could see more of them. Austin and Jodie have insane chemistry together in the interviews but in the movie we could only see a glimpse of it in the beginning and not much later (at least that is how I felt) but it's probably because of the way the script was written 😊

I'm very happy they got their peaceful life in the end although she really is an angel for taking him back tbh

[websterss]

COMING BACK (2) SAD ENDING — ETHAN LANDRY  

SUMMARY: You wait for Ethan’s return, but when the closet door he stuck you in reopens, it only goes downhill from there. 

WARNING(S): angst, mentions of killing, mentions of dying, knife wound, barely there fluff, sad ending

WORD COUNT: 3,091

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2: HAPPY ENDING

You didn’t know how long you had waited for. Perhaps a few minutes since he last left the closet. Perhaps more than half an hour. The long-awaited return of Ethan felt like hours. You succumb to the darkness surrounding you. Sliding down one of the walls and waiting. Your eyes glanced around hoping to catch a glimpse of light but the only light you received was from the bottom of the door. The only thing holding you together. The rushed boots and fast swipe of a shadow running past the door had you holding your breath. Not like they knew where you were. In Sam and Tara’s case, you assumed that didn’t work in your favor. If things were to go south which you didn’t doubt would happen, they wouldn’t know where to locate you, possibly thinking you were dead and dying. Some part of you was, knowing how the love of your life had become a stranger to you after revealing himself to you.

The minutes prior to hiding you made you wonder if he’d have really hurt you had you not told him you were pregnant. Would he have plunged the knife into your side where you were once stabbed by Amber? Would he have really ended what you found to be some of the most enjoyable three months together? You weren’t sure and yet you held onto the hope of him coming to get you, to tell you everything was over. So when a shadow neared the closet and swung open the door, your heart picked up and your smile grew, but as you locked eyes with Sam and then with Tara’s, your nightmare began.

“Oh thank god!” Sam rushed forward to cup your face, wiping away tears that fell down your face. “I’m so glad you’re okay! Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?” All you could muster was a shake of your head. Words betraying you.

“Holy shit, he wasn’t lying…” Tara gave you a once-over.

“Where–“ You swallow a knot forming in your throat. “Where is he?” Your voice cracked. “S-Sam? Where is he?”

Sam sighs, glancing back to Tara with a look you couldn’t recognize. Then looked back to you. She stood up, holding her hand out like a mother gesturing for her child to grab a hold of her. You did and allowed her to guide you out of the closet and down the hall where you and Ethan rushed down earlier.

When you came out into the clearing you noticed the mop of hair you loved to mess with. Sam let you go. You had taken cautious steps towards where he was sitting against a display case. When you rounded the case and his head turned towards you tiredly. You gasped and ran forward. Doing so in relief because he was okay. Your knees hit the ground hard. You didn’t mind the pain that started though. You didn’t mind it one bit. You let out a shaky laugh. Your hands holding his red and sweaty face gently.

“H-Hey…” He breathed out tiredly. His eyes doing their best to remain open. His smile only grew upon seeing you. “You’re okay…” He sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “I least I’ll know you’ll be….be okay now.” His breath hitched. You teared up again, your eyes furrowing in confusion at the sudden release of his slow intake of air. You give him a once over and when you finally look down where his hand holds his bleeding wound. You gasp. Upon careful inspection, he was stabbed in multiple areas too.

“You’re hurt!” Your breath grew shaky.

“I didn’t know…” You whip your head over to Sam approaching you both. She shakes her head, guilt-ridden over her face.

“What?” Your brows furrow.

“I didn’t think he was telling the truth. I thought he was lying to get us to trust him…I thought you were dead, so I stabbed him!” Sam gestured to the knife still lodged in him. “Then he helped us kill his dad and I didn’t know what to believe anymore! You hunted us down. You were about to kill Y/n, then you help us? What the fuck Ethan!”

“I’m sorry…” He frowns with a heavy sigh. “I guess I’m better…better at following than making the plans. I’m sorry.” He swallows the lump in his throat.

“Sorry ain’t good enough.” Sam frowns.

“Sam he knows…” Your head drops.

She perks up at this. “What? You told him?”

“Yeah…I did.” You look back and met his eyes.

“So he hid you…” She nods, putting together his thought process and trying to make sense of the situation. “What if she wasn’t huh?“ Ethan looks up slowly to meet her gaze. “Would you still have hidden her then?”

He looks over at you. You honestly didn’t want to know what his answer would be. Scared you’d be met with the opposite. “No…” He croaks out. “I-I’m sorry okay. I don’t know what more…you want me to say.” He trails off. His head fell into his shoulder. His eyes closed.

“Hey, no, no. Hey Ethan!” You frantically pat his face hoping he’d come to but he wasn’t responding. “H-Hey…Open your eyes!” You cry out. Lifting his head to be upright. Your teary-eyed vision was blurred. “Hey, open your eyes for me!” You sniffled as you feel for his pulse. It was still there but faint. Your head falls onto his chest sighing in relief but you still grew weary. You pulled back and wiped under your nose. You had a plan and you had to act fast on it.

“What are you doing?” Sam questions you as you start pushing up the black robe up his torso. You lifted the hem up, ripping the cloth so it wouldn’t touch the knife lodged into his side. You push it up and then work on getting his arms out of the holes. When the costume drapes over his neck you carefully hold his neck and take it off him completely. The gloves he wore were next. “Y/n, what are you doing?” Sam cuts in again but doesn’t stop you. You sniffle wiping your nose once more as you rid him of the costume.

“H-He’s not going down for this...” You stand.

“You can’t be serious!” She scoffs.

“I am, burn it!” You toss her the costume and gloves. “He can’t get the help he needs if he’s locked up.”

“Maybe that’s what he needs. To go to jail! He killed our friends!” She solemnly reminds you. You look down closing your eyes. “Anika, Chad!”

“I know! I know that! I know it, okay…please, I just need him to not be incarcerated right now okay? You don’t have to forgive him. Hell, I don’t even think I can.“ Tears fall down your face. You press your hands against your stomach. “I at least would like to not go through this alone without him.” Your blurred vision meets her conflicted expression. She doesn’t know what to do or say. “I don’t know if this makes me fucked up for not wanting him to die or go to jail. I can’t look past what he’s done to us I know that. I know that. Anika was very dear to me. I don’t know if I have the strength to forgive him, but he’s my person. I gave him every piece of myself for months, and he made everything feel like it was all for nothing in a second. A second Sam, he broke me in a second and he’s this baby's father and I hate him for what he’s done. What do I do with that, Sam?” You plea. “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?” You cup your forehead. “H-He said he wouldn’t have saved me…What the fuck do I do with that?” You point to him.

“You let him go.” Tara cuts in. You meet her somber expression.

“I don’t know if I can…”

“It’s not an easy thing to do,” Sam says. “It’s your call here though.” You meet her gaze. “But the way I see it. There’s really only two ways this can go tonight. You can save him, and let him go, or let him die.” Water brims your waterline as she says this. You look back down to the guy who put you back together and then slammed his fist down on your finished puzzle. All your pieces felt scattered now, with no way of resembling your broken heart. Had it really been two choices this whole time? One of life or one of death. One of love or one of loss. Sam made it seem so easy. Yet this was the hardest choice you’ve ever had to decide on. What was to be was up to you now. You could save him or you could let him go…

-

It was the pungent smell of hospital disinfectant that had invaded Ethan’s nostrils first. The room was silent apart from the beeping of the heart rate monitor to his left. He came to after realizing he was still alive. Further taking in the fact that you brought him here. He half expected to see his wrists cuffed to the bed handles, but when he was able to lift them up to his face that was the real shock. The shuffle of his bed sheets hadn’t caught your attention just yet. He looked around spotting you on the sofa in the room. Ethan realized that you were in deep thought, reading a favorite book you knew front and back. 

“W-What’s that…” The croak of his voice had you lifting your head to meet his gaze. “Like your fifth read?” He breathes out a laugh. His head lulling to the side against his pillow. You hold his gaze for a mere second then look back down to your lap. The enticing story of two neighbors falling in love towards the end was long forgotten now. The whole time he was unconscious, it had allowed you to escape your dooming reality. To familiarize yourself and yearn for the written words on the oatmeal-colored pages. You wanted the love that was portrayed and described in the book. Not your lover, turning out to be an infamous masked killer.

“My seventh actually…” You sigh and set the book aside. You wipe your palms against your jeans and stand up. “How are you feeling?” You walk over and flick the bag hung to the side of him.

“Like I’ve been stabbed.” Ethan laughs, but you don’t find it funny in the slightest. His smile fades when you fail to show an ounce of emotion. You remained stoic with him. “You stayed.”

“Yeah, I guess I did…” You raised your eyebrows with a shrug.

“You didn’t turn me in.” Ethan frowned.

“N-No…” Your voice shook. You found interest in picking at your nails. Just being near him broke you inside out though. He could see your walls crumbling.

“Y/n-“

“I hate you!” You blurt out. Ethan rests his head back, looking up at the ceiling.

“I don’t blame you...”

“It’s taking everything in me not to break right now.” Ethan turns his head to you. “But I’m sure you can already see that. You’ve always been good at reading me. Quite frankly, I’m trying to deal with all this in a calm manner, but I’ve been sitting on that damn sofa for almost two hours now and I just– I can’t!” You look down at him.

“Then don’t.” He shrugs. “Scream, yell, cry. Don’t bottle it up. I’m all ears.” He offers a tiny smile. You scoff.

You look away nodding. “I can’t forgive you, I think I’ll eventually learn how to again, but my trust in you is gone.” Ethan nods solemnly. His eyes close, as you continue. “I’m not letting you anywhere near this baby until you get help.” You lift your gaze to meet his. “You need some serious fucking therapy. Maybe an exorcist for all the fucked up demons you got in that head of yours. Might even cleanse you for negative energy…” You shrug nonchalantly.

“You done?” He stifles a laugh and then sighs, partially amused, partially understanding where you’re coming from.

“No. If you don’t get help, and you hurt someone again. I’m throwing you in a fucking psych ward. I mean it, Ethan. If you don’t show signs of improvement for my benefit and this baby. You’re out of my life. Honestly, I shouldn’t even be giving you a second chance after everything. I’m a little scared of you still. You told Sam you wouldn’t have saved me if I didn’t tell you I was pregnant. That alone raises enough alarms. A major red flag that I should be fleeing from. I need time, to heal. You broke me!” Your voice rasps out. “You fucking broke me…” You let your arms fall to your sides in a shrug. Your lips quiver. “I’m in no state of mind to be having a baby right now but I just-“

“Then don’t go through with it.” He sighs. You’re taken aback by his words. “Don’t put yourself through more than you can handle.”

“Is that what you want?” You curl in your bottom lip.

“I don’t know what I want.” Ethan sits up slowly.

“Why’d you save me?”

“I don’t know.” He looks away.

“I think you do.” You push. “You wouldn’t have saved me if you didn’t at least still care for me.” Ethan can’t bare to look at you. The thing about your relationship is that you could read him just as well. “Do you…do you love me, still?” You freeze. He looks back over to you. His eyes widened and his lips part slightly.

“Do you love me, still?” He asks you.

“Y-You know I do.” Your eyes begin to water again.

“Then you know I do.” Ethan holds your gaze.

“Do I?” Your voice rasps.

Ethan's eyes shine, his expression falling as you begin to shake your head.

You don’t believe him to still love you.

“Y/n-“ He begins but you cut him off.

“I can’t forgive you. I can’t let you back in until I know you’re gonna do something about this urge you have to hurt people. I-I can’t. I can’t forgive you.” You turn to collect your things. He only watches as you pick up your pace. You wanted out of there and fast.

“Y/n please just let me-“

“Why couldn’t I have been enough? Weren’t you happy? With what we had going? You didn’t have to go follow through with all this? Anika? Chad? You could have stopped? You didn’t need to hurt anyone…you didn’t– me! You didn’t need to hurt me.” You pause at the door. “I gave you every part of me and I-“

“You weren’t part of the plan!” He blurts out. He wanted nothing more than to rip off all the wires and IV attached to him. To walk up to you. To beg on his knees and wrap his arms around you. He wanted to do that…but he was in pain just from sitting up.

“What?” You turn to face him slowly.

“I never thought– You just showed up unexpectedly.” He slouches deeper into the bed. “You just showed up one day, and the whole plan my dad went over with us went over my head for a few weeks. You weren’t part of our plan! I was supposed to be Chad’s roommate and get closer to your friends. Get them to trust me! You think I had planned on falling in love with someone during the process? No! But you happened! And I grew feelings for you all because you laughed at my stupid jokes and you didn’t see me as Chad’s dorky roommate. You just saw me and for once in my life I wanted my life to not feel like a revenge plotline. You happened and I fell and I didn’t want to lose that. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You didn’t want to lose me?”

“Y-Yeah. I still don’t.”

“And you think admitting the fact that you fell in love with me had put a pause on your plan, makes everything that’s happened, okay? Cause it doesn’t. You should have thought about that before you killed Anika and stabbed Chad over and over again. Before trying to stab me!” You scowl at him. “Chad’s okay by the way…No major arteries hit and was told he’d fully recover in a few weeks. Maybe even a month from now.”

“He didn’t die?” His heart sinks.

“No.” You mutter softly. “Doctor said it’s a miracle he’s alive. The blood loss alone would have killed him, but it didn’t.” Your shoulders start to loosen up. “He’s gonna be okay…and he’s gonna kick your ass.” You let out a tired chuckle.

“We’re not gonna get past this…are we?”

“I don’t know anymore, Ethan. Maybe, maybe not, maybe in a few years…I simply don’t know. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“I’m still me.” Ethan pleads. Lifting his head off the pillow into an attempted upright position. “Still the same guy you fell in love with.”

“Did we go through the same storyline? You were never that guy I fell in love with. You lied to me! You just played a part and lied to me. I was just stupid enough to let another person into my life all because I wanted to experience something normal again. Guess I was wrong, huh? The ending, it’s occurring right now, Ethan. I’m the girl who’s back to square one in need of some serious therapy sessions to help me get over this traumatic experience…and you’re the guy, who’s right back where he started at the beginning of this sad fucked movie…alone!”

“Y/n don’t do this-“ Ethan shakes his head.

“Don’t call me.” Tears brim your waterline.

“I can fix this!” Ethan groans as he starts to get himself out of the bed. You just keep backing up.

“Don’t come looking for me. We’re done. W-We’re done!” You spare him one last look and walk out of his room.

“Y/n-argh!” He grunts out as he hits the floor hard. Pain shoots up through his body. “Y-Y/n! Please! Y/n, I’m sorry, please!” He calls out to you. “Please!”

You press yourself against the wall to the right of his room. You place your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries as you hear him call out for help.

[lonelierthanu]

Penmanship

Satoru Gojo x Gender-neutral Reader

series: incomplete

words: 2.1k

warnings: none apply; funny; meet-ugly; no mentioned female or male anatomy; no spoilers; no curses; slow build, slow to update; college au

summary: In your attempt to find the man that stole your pen, you also find yourself invited to his house.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5…+

It’s fucking Thursday now and you’re beginning to think this is some kind of big joke.

From what you know of this guy, which is very little, he seems to like teasing people. Especially to the point of mild irritation. And you think that’s what this is. It has to be. Because it’s been three days and you haven’t seen even a glimpse of this guy. So, you feel it’s appropriate at this point to try to search for him on your own.

“You know anybody with blindingly white hair, obnoxiously huge sunglasses, and a possibly irritating smirk?” You aks your friend, Aoi, the minute you see him in the cafeteria.

“That sounds extremely specific,” he replies, still looking at the menu options as he waits in line.

“Well i’m looking for a specific guy,” you wait for Aoi’s answer, but none comes as he continues to study the menu like he’s never seen it before. He comes here everyday. You roll your eyes. “So? Have you?”

“No. Should I get chicken or pork this time?” he asks you, you groan.

“What’re we groaning about?” Your other friend, and roommate, Rikki, comes bounding towards the two of you with a gleeful pep in her step.

“What’re we so happy about?” Aoi asks back, actually giving her his full attention. She giggles, giddy to share her news.

“Ok so you know that study group I said I didn’t want to go to?” She doesn’t wait for answers before she continues, “Well I found out through Kita and Yachi, who were at the study group, that Mori broke up with Kaiya,” she finishes with a huge smile plastered on her face.

“Why are you happy about that?” Aoi asks the same time you ask, “Who are these people?”

“I’ve always hated Kaiya,” she exclaims, “She treats people like she’s better than them. It always made me sad to see the way she treated Mori. He’s such a nice guy and she’s like,” she pauses to think, “…the wicked witch of the west,”

“Was that the one that got the house dropped on her or the green one?” you ask.

“Does it matter? Weren’t they both evil?” Aoi replies. You shrug.

“Anyway, I'm glad they broke up because I feel like she really needs to be knocked down a peg or fifty,” Rikki flips the end of her high ponytail off shoulder and crosses her arms, “What was it that you were groaning about?” At that, Aoi turns his attention back to the menu.

“I’m looking for a guy-“ Rikki gasps, startling some passersby-ers and yourself. She immediately grabs your hands and squeals as she presses them to her chest.

“Oh my god! I have been waiting for this day!” she sing-songs, “I have a couple of guy friends I can introduce you to,” she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at you. You furrow yours in mild disgust.

“Um no,” you pry your hands from her grasp, “I meant, I'm looking for a specific guy. He stole my pen and I need it back,” Rikki and Aoi both look at you in confusion. “Ok we’ll it’s not my pen, it’s my nieces,” you begin to explain. “He took it and I need it back,”

“Why not just buy a new one?” Aoi brings up before he orders. You thought of that, but you remembered that your brother-in-law had gotten that specific pen from a country he was stationed in overseas for military business. You searched literally anywhere you could think to find it, but there was nothing exactly like it (at least within your price range).

“It’s from a different country. I tried finding it but anyone within my price range wasn’t the same,”

“What does this guy look like?” Rikki asks as Aoi takes his food and the three of you go to find seating.

“He has white hair, I've never seen him without sunglasses so I assume he wears them all the time. He’s really tall and he’s also really loud,” you try to describe Sherlock Houdini from what you remember of your two barely interactions with him. This search could be so much easier if you knew his name.

“Oh!” Rikki claps her hands together, “I think I know who you’re talking about,” she smiles at you. She pulls out her phone and starts tapping and scrolling furiously.

“Really?” You look at her as the three of you sit down, you sit across from her next to Aoi.

“Yes!” She pushes her phone towards the two of you, you and Aoi both lean down to look. “Is this who you’re talking about?” It’s an instagram post of Sherlock Houdini, but it’s a mirror selfie of him shirtless and sweaty in a gym locker room. And bro is like, Hercules ripped. You would have never guessed by his lengthy frame and baggy clothes he usually wears. You take Rikki’s phone to inspect it further while she and Aoi engage in a conversation you’re not entirely interested in.

You look at the profile name and scoff when you see it’s, _TheStrongest. This guy is about as obnoxious as you would think. Then you look at the date of the photo and see that it was a recent photo, it was actually posted this morning. Just a little bit after the class you have with him. You look further into this guy’s profile and see that he posts gym photos quite often. He doesn’t post every time he goes to the gym, but enough to deduce he does go everyday.

Then you keep going deeper, to try to find the location of the gym. But you notice that he doesn’t tag the location. You almost lose hope when you see a photo from a couple months back of him and another guy. You click on it to see that that other guy was tagged. so you go to his page. And low and behold. He goes to the same gym, if the locker room background serves as any indication, and he tagged the gym.

You save the location and send it to yourself through Rikki’s number and fully plan on going to Hercules-Sherlock-Houdini’s gym and confronting him.

He took your pen.

And you are determined to get it back.

The plan failed. Supremely.

It failed so bad, you didn’t even get a chance to get to the gym. You had set your alarm the night before ready to wake up at the ass crack of dawn so you could get there before Hercules-Sherlock-Houdini. But then you stayed up way too late watching home renovation videos on youtube. You slept through all of your alarms, including the ones for class and ended up missing more than half of your first period. You almost pissed yourself when you saw the time.

You started rushing to try to at least get to your second period on time. It was a long commute from your apartment to campus. You’re hoping that hour difference between your first and second classes will come in handy today.

Luckily it did, but barely. You walked into class with barely a second to spare. This is the same class you share with Herc-Sherlock-Houdini, and when you look in the room to see his seat is empty, you’re not surprised in the slightest. You don’t know when this guy is ever gonna show up so you’re gonna reset your plan in motion tomorrow.

And, as a silent and completely self-indulgent fuck you, you’re gonna sit in the seat he stole from you at the beginning of the semester. You almost evil grin at the thought.

You’re sitting there enjoying your original seat, when at the twenty minute mark the door loudly swings open. You don’t look up at first, still trying to write down the last bit of notes projected on the screen. Then you hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like Herc-Sherlock-Houdini. When you look over, you almost drop your pencil.

He’s already looking at you as he walks over. You’re looking back at him, fighting the urge to drop your jaw. Is this what it takes to summon him back? Sit in his seat? You blink away any form of surprise in your expression. No, that’s ridiculous. He just decided he’s going to come back to class…on Friday. After missing the entire week.

He finally walks right in front of you, looks down at you, and smiles. A smile so similar to that first day you met him. It gives you a sense of deja vu.

“You’re in my seat,” you know he said that on purpose. But this time you just scoot over one seat without a fight.

“Where’s the pen?” you cut to the chase. You need the pen back but you’ll be damned if you have to wake up at ass-o-clock to get it. You plan to if you need to, but you’d much rather not.

“What’re you talking about?” he smirks at you. You gawk at him. Seriously? Is he for real gonna act like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about? You level with him anyway. It’s not like you have a choice.

“The pen?” He feigns ignorance as he shakes his head, “y’know, the bright red glitter pen with a big Hello Kitty charm on top and a red fuzzy ball hanging from it?” He smirks at you again before pretending to think. He places a finger on his lips in pretend contemplation.

“No, it’s not ringing any bells,” you resist the urge to groan.

“I let you borrow it on Monday,” he pretends to think again, then snaps his fingers, like he’s had a eureka moment.

“Oh! Now I remember, duh” he playfully rolls his eyes at himself, “It was your niece's pen right? The pen that miraculously got left in your bag somehow?” You try to control the vein on your forehead from popping.

“Yeah,” you clench your jaw.

“Hm, well I don’t have it,” he smiles innocently at you. You huff in disbelief. You don’t know whether to ring his neck or say fuck the pen all together. He definitely notices the irritation that you’re not even trying to hide anymore, he smiles wider, like he’s proud he brought you to this point. “But…I can give it to you tomorrow,”

“It’s saturday,”

“Yeah, just come over to my place,” immediately this offer is sending alarm bells off in your head. You going — alone — to a random (weird) guy’s house to get a pen? Nah. You choose life. You’re just about to tell this asshole a big fat no when he speaks up first. “Of course you can bring someone with you if you’d like,”

You pause, still unsure of his offer. He seems to notice this and retracts his attention from you and begins paying attention to the lecture. You really can’t get over how weird this guy is. And irritating. But, you suppose, if you brought a friend it wouldn’t be entirely unsafe. Then you’d get the pen back and you’ll no longer have to exert yourself trying to convert with him. Seems like a win-win in hindsight.

You wait till the end of class to tell him that you’ll pick up the pen at his place. In your mind, this is gonna be simple. You’ll get in, and get out. There’d be no reason to be in his home for more than sixty seconds at most. At least, that’s what you hope. But this guy seems to have a nack for shattering your common expectations.

“Where’s your place?” you ask him while packing your things away into your bag. You miss the wide-toothed smile he sends your way when he perks up at your question. He rips the corner of your notebook paper to write it down.

“Here,” he slides the little paper to you. Annoyed that he used your paper to write it on, you look at it anyway. “Come at around…seven?” You look up to give him a questioning look. He offers an explanation before you say anything. “I won’t be home till then,”

You brush it off to further examine the address. You realize he doesn’t live in the dorms, which you kind of figured since this dude seemed to be dripping in upper class. All his Apple electronics and named brand clothes spoke for themselves. You didn’t recognize any of the street names so you guess he doesn’t live near you. Maybe in the opposite direction from yours on the other side of campus. Which means he probably lives really far from you. You internally groan at the long commute that awaits you tomorrow.

You go to say thanks for the address but you see Herc-Sherlock-Houdini is already out of his seat and almost out the door. You choose not to pay any further attention to him. Instead, you focus on getting to your next class while typing the address into your google maps.

You’re also focusing on praying to whatever deity above that you don’t have to be at this man’s house for more than ninety seconds.

(･ω<)☆

don’t you love it when Gojo is a little shit? 😌

★prev next☆

[gurugirl]

I haven't felt this excited to read a fic in a long time. A Good Boy is excellent. Obviously you are already an excellent writer and your stories are all so good. But this one? I just finished part 2 and after part 1 I was already hooked.

But now with part 2 I see how sweet and caring Harry is. He might be kind of cocksure but he's also very happy to let yn take the lead. And you get some glimpses of his thoughts and he really likes her. maybe more than he should but then it sounds like she's really liking him. I love how you add in their thoughts on this - she's been missing intimacy and affection and Harry is giving it to her where Leo never did. I like that you kind of highlight how important that can be in a relationship and that she didn't even realize she'd been missing it until she slept with Harry who was so tender and attentive.

I cannot wait to see what you've got for us coming in further parts. Part 1 and 2 so far have blown me away. And I'm gonna sound like everyone else and repeat it, but I feel like you should know because you're writing and ability to hook the reader is that good, but I never thought I'd like this trope. Y/n isn't much older than Harry here but she is the stepmom and that isn't my thing.

But I do want to mention here the age gap thing too. I saw an ask from someone who said that we won't like it because we can't imagine ourselves in yn's place since she's "so much older" and we can't relate... I'm gonna say this with the nicest intent I can toward that anon but they acted like they were speaking for all of us when they very obviously don't. I'm 22 as well and I fully was able to enjoy every word written. I don't imagine myself as the main character anyway when I'm reading fic so like, it's weird that that person said "we won't like it" "we can't relate" I feel like they never even read it because i can almost guarantee if they had they'd change their mind. Also, Y/n is 27 sis. She's not "so much older" 😂 Most of my mutuals say they don't read y/n as themselves either. Anyway, don't change what you're doing just because one anon decided to try and speak for us all and tell you we wouldn't like this. As you can see WE LOVED THIS!

Woo wow!! Thank you babe! I’m so happy that you’re into this despite the trope. I am shocked by how many have loved this and all the feedback I’ve gotten so far is quite amazing.

Yes this story will follow yn’s and Harry’s thoughts about relationships and love and it’ll be a little messy because obviously. But you’re spot on! The lack of intimacy in her marriage was by design and this just really pushed her into doing something she might not have done of her marriage was secure and happy. And even though she thought she was fine, there was always something there deep down she knew she was missing. Glad you were able to pick that out.

And that anon I think was just trying to let me know why readers wouldn’t like this trope. I’m assuming at least. But it definitely did sound like they were assuming most everyone felt like they did - which we can see isn’t the case because so many of y’all did like this.

I also don’t ever think of myself as yn or reader when I’m reading (or writing) stories with reader insert. Not that there’s anything wrong with that I’m just not ever imagining it being me so I think a lot of readers can switch from Inserting themselves into the fic or being able to imagine someone else. There are some readers who cannot imagine anyone but themselves and that gets tricky with yn or reader main characters.

Anyway!! Thank you so much for this feedback!! 💕

Xoxo

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.  

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here

“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch.  “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can.  I know you can.  Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me.  Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly.  “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred.  “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you?  Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded.  “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed.  "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.  

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer.  You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients.  Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ.  There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago.  Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality.  But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain.  And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place.  It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.  

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often.  It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again.  He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him.  “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall.  “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided.  You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch.  After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something.  “Yeah, I guess you haven’t.  First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled.  “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on.  You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine.  But there were more pressing matters at hand.  Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment.  This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in.  I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.  The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages.  You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted.  Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James?  Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards.  But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically.  For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh!  Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly.  “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically.  “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again.  “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school?  Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past.  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once.  You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered.  “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on.  “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh?  So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you.  “But you’re really not.  You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you.  “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right?  Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably.  “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself.  And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah?  How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number.  “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced.  “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about.  Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad.  Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet.  “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly.  “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right?  Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before.  “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead.  “Do you want me to hit you again?  Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.  

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive.  His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls.  “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you.  He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder.  And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock.  “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout.  “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised.  “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin.  “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft.  It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you.  “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him.  “Can I keep going?  Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned.  You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive.  And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back.  But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little.  "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly.  "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently.  "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more.  You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James?  So you could show me how good you can be?” 

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day.  Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked.  “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now?  You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed.  “You don’t deserve anything from me, James.  You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean.  Kept him on his toes, apparently.  Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right.  “I know!” he cried.  “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you.  I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much.  Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me.  Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you.  I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it.  Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all.  But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you?  It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you.  And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother.  “All mine, huh?  My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip.  Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up.  You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.  

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you?  You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut.  “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind.  It’s useless.  I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut.  “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit.  But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed.  “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them.  His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger.  Was that even possible?  Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked.  “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself.  It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well.  Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided.  “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes.  “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is.  You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly.  “N-no, please—” 

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?  

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you.  Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act.  Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous.  You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest.  So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now.  “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you.  You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that.  I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you.  And for a second, you knew you’d let him.  It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal.  It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.  

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly.  “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned.  “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right?  That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me.  Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to.  “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come.  I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets.  And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it.  So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel.  You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out. 

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected.  “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.  

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se.  When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated.  But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.  

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered. 

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that.  “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched?  Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed.  Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed.  Prideful, even.  You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin.  He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know.  It’s so unfair, isn’t it?  Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away.  “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.  

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed.  “Please, don’t—  don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly.  "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly.  "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach.  You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled.  "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy.  "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you.  "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.  

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince.  “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock.  “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time.  Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly.  “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised.  “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away? 

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him.  It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive.  A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.  

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact.  Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up.  Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg.  You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear.  Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully.  Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close.  You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.  

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit.  You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw.  “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.  

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair.  “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that.  He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin.  The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra.  Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately.  “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut.  Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well).  He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent.  “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe.  Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled.  “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away.  “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him.  "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet. 

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

[writer-in-theory]

dream of some epiphany

"just one single glimpse of relief, to make some sense of what you've seen..."

summary: after his wife maeve died, spencer was sure he'd never recover. at least he had the knowledge that she'd been an organ donor, that even in her final moments she'd given to others what she and spencer could never have—another chance. a year later, the team coaxes spencer back out of his grief. he finds his relief in a local artist who seems to capture his emotions perfectly in her art. little did he know that there was a reason his heart was drawn to hers. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader category: hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending content warnings: character death (maeve, not shown but discussed heavily), discussions of grief, mentions of chronic illness and dying word count: 5.8k a/n: hello y'all!! happy valentine's day. i'm so excited to share this one with you, y'all have no idea. for reference, this fic is very loosely based off of the movie 'return to me' because it's one of my favs to watch on valentines day. also, a huge thanks to @reidsbookclub for beta-ing this fic super last second last night!!

masterlist

When Spencer had asked Maeve what one word she would use to describe the human experience, she’d barely thought before saying: sidereal. It hadn’t made an ounce of sense at the time—how could a human possibly be compared to the stars, and their existence the constellations? How could the human experience possibly stand up to the brilliance of starlight?

Standing in front of the Maeve Donovan-Reid Charitable Clinic, Spencer wondered if maybe she’d been right after all. After months of hard work and careful planning, everything finally happened the way he’d always hoped.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Dr. Bryer spoke, beginning to reach out for a hug but seeming to think better of it.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” How could he? Maeve had been talking about this clinic for years—spending nights at her desk carefully marking out each potential donor she’d need to talk to, staying late at her job to discuss the logistics with her coworkers. Spencer had been there all along, watching what started out as a whispered idea turn into a wondrous reality. “Maeve would love it.”

That was the worst part about it all: the looks. The second her name was said, everyone’s gazes would soften as they looked upon him with so much pity Spencer wanted to scream. Maeve would have hated for her name to be associated with such pain, such tragedy. Still, what else could he do but remember the way she’d looked that night—when everything was taken away from them in a second? When he’d been absolutely powerless to save the one person he’d desperately needed in the world?

Maybe now that the clinic was open, Spencer could remember the way the sun shined perfectly down on them that day when someone said her name.

“She’d be proud of you,” Dr. Bryer spoke again, settling for a reassuring hand squeezing lightly on his arm. His wife’s coworkers had gotten used to seeing him around, usually even asking about how his cases had gone and when his next guest lecture was.

“I know,” Spencer agreed, knowing that if Maeve could see him now she’d smile at all he’d managed to accomplish in the past year since the accident.

Spencer had prepared for a multitude of ways he could lose her. Working at the BAU meant that his loved ones were constantly put at risk because of the people he’d gone after. Never once did he imagine he’d get into a wreck on the way home from the clinic build site, and never did he imagine that he’d be okay while she was not.

And maybe what was so troubling was that there was no one to blame. If something had happened because of an unsub, then Spencer could hate them. He could even hate himself for not protecting his wife of five years well enough. Instead, all he had was some ice that caused another car to slide right into theirs, and all he could hold onto was the fact that Maeve had been able to carry out one final act of kindness before she left him.

Maeve always wanted to look after the world. She dedicated her life to studying rare genetic disorders in the hopes of finding better ways to treat them, and rallied for a charitable clinic where said patients could receive quality care without losing their entire life savings. And when she could no longer remain on this Earth, Maeve donated her organs to give so many people second chances at life.

And Spencer could rest easy, knowing that somewhere in the world Maeve’s heart was still beating, providing life to a wonderful person—a person who would never truly know the beauty of the woman they shared such a deep connection to.

“And what’re you up to this week, Spencer? More movie marathons?”

“No, actually,” Spencer admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and trying not to catch the clinic’s sign in his line of vision. “Derek set me up on a date.”

“A date? Oh, how lovely!” Dr. Breyer cheered, giving him a smile too kind to be faked. “I’m happy for you.”

“Really? You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Spencer, if I knew anything about Maeve, it’s that she wouldn’t want you to keep grieving alone like this. She’d want you to be happy and loved.” It wasn’t the first time Spencer had heard it but he was sure it would never hurt less. The team had been pulling him aside individually for months, gently coaxing him back out into the world. They weren’t satisfied with him staying cooped up in that house he’d bought with Maeve—the one they were supposed to begin their family in. It hadn’t seemed right to have fun with them when he knew Maeve could never have those experiences again. It had seemed more like a betrayal to move on after he’d promised her forever.

Their forever was only meant to be five years, though. And maybe the woman Derek had set him on a date with wasn’t the one, but at least she was someone. This was the beginning of Spencer’s life without Maeve, and as hard as it was he’d have to accept that there would be love after her just as there was life without her too.

So when the night finally came, Spencer dutifully got dressed. It had been years since he’d gone on a first date—it was tough to remember exactly how to calm the rising nerves in his chest. He shoved them down deep every step of the way until finally, he reached the little restaurant he’d been instructed to go to. It was far out of the way, tucked back in a little corner of D.C. that never truly got the government official foot traffic that bolstered so many small businesses.

And when Spencer saw the woman, he understood why Derek had chosen her. She looked nothing like his wife—all long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, dressed up in a flashy outfit that Maeve would have never been caught dead in. She had a beautiful smile and a warm laugh, but quickly into the conversation Spencer realized that was all he could truly appreciate about the woman. When the dinner was over and he helped her back into her car, Spencer couldn’t say he was upset by the end of the date. She was a lovely woman who deserved all the best in the world, and that was just something he couldn’t give her.

Spencer hadn’t sat at a bar in ages—an unspoken agreement amongst the team suggested he was far too vulnerable that year to be around so much alcohol—but it seemed perfect now.

“That rough, huh?” A bell-like voice called out. The bartender was still standing in front of him behind the counter, mixing up a drink that looked far too blue to be good.

“I’m sorry?”

“The date,” she clarified, “both of you looked ready to leave all night.”

Had it really been so obvious? Spencer ducked his head a little, blushing at the thought of this beautiful woman noticing how miserable he’d been at dinner. “She was nice.”

“Ouch,” the bartender laughed, shaking her head, “that bad, huh?”

“She’s not my type,” Spencer admitted sheepishly, giving a trying smile to the woman who was looking at him with pure amusement.

“So why agree to a date with her?”

“My friend set me up,” he explained, “he said I needed to get back out there.”

“Ohh,” the woman cooed, leaning her forearms on the bar after sliding the finished drink over to the customer waiting for it. “My friends say the same thing to me. It’s been so long I’m not sure I remember how to go on a date.”

“That’s how I felt tonight,” Spencer laughed then, “I felt like a teenager again.”

“Not the awkward teen dates! I remember back in high school I went to the movies with this guy, and I don’t think we spoke once that whole date.”

“Not once?”

“Nope!” the woman laughed, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. “But luckily for me, I think my dating skills have improved just a little since then.”

“I didn’t date until college, but I never really enjoyed them.” Not until meeting Maeve, that is.

“Well, Kind Stranger with the Fluffy Hair, I hope you find a good date soon then,” the bartender announced before stepping away to the next patron.

As hard as Spencer tried to forget about that abysmal date, he hadn’t quite been able to get that bartender off of his mind. She had kind eyes, the sort that made him immediately want to trust her. She was easy to talk to in a way he didn’t often experience—not once in that brief conversation did he struggle to find something suitable to say.

So, a week later, Spencer returned to that same restaurant. He skipped dinner in lieu of sitting at the bar, hoping she worked the same nights every week.

“Oh, hey, Fluffy Hair, how’s it going?” that familiar voice asked a few minutes after he sat down. She wasn’t behind the bar this time, but rather coming out from the backroom with a bag in hand. “Find any cute dates recently?”

“No, none yet,” Spencer admitted, “Are you working tonight?”

“Ah, no I just wanted to drop in and say hello to a few people. I actually have this event tonight that’s not gonna be much fun anymore,” she explained. “Normally I have a friend to go with so I’m not alone, but she canceled last second.”

Was she doing this on purpose? Did she mention the opening so he could offer? What if she was just being kind, though, and it would be weird to impose when he’d just met her?

“Do you want someone to go with you?”

“Why, are you offering?” And there, that was it. Immediately the woman smiled, raising one eyebrow just enough to give a hint of flirtatiousness.

“Is it weird to go with a stranger?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, popping out a hip and resting her free hand against it, “but I don’t mind weird. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he introduced as he followed her out of the restaurant. He followed her down the sidewalk, easily falling into place beside her, hands barely brushing as they walked. “So what kind of event is it?”

“It’s a local art show,” she answered, fingers coming up to twist some of her hair as she spoke. “I have a couple of pieces on exhibit.”

“You’re an artist?”

“What, did you think I was only a bartender?” she teased. “Yeah, I am. I want to do it for the rest of my life, but until it’s financially sustainable I’ll be bartending.”

“What kind of art?”

“You’ll see, Fluffy Hair,” she said with a playful wink that sent butterflies straight to Spencer’s stomach. “What about you? What keeps you busy on weekdays?”

And here it was, the moment that had ended so many relationships before they’d hardly begun. Few people were actually willing to commit to loving someone with as dangerous and time-consuming a job as he had. Maeve had been an exception to the rule, someone who had never once shied away from the difficulties his job brought to the relationship.

“I’m an FBI agent,” Spencer explained, looking straight ahead as he spoke so as to not see her reaction, “I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“Oh, I saw you guys on the news the other day,” she answered immediately, voice rising in pitch at the excitement. “You caught that guy in Virginia.”

“We did.”

“That must be a really hard job, I don’t know how you all do it every day.”

God, sometimes Spencer didn’t know either. With every year he stayed on the team, it got that much harder to see the point in it. For every killer they caught, three more popped up like some sick hydra. How could they possibly keep up with all of the destruction? He’d found himself looking forward to his breaks as a professor more and more.

“The team I’m on helps,” Spencer admitted, “they’re like my family.”

“Yeah, I guess you’d have to be after seeing all that stuff together. A lot of my friends are artists too. It’s nice they understand the struggles of it.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she answered easily, “I don’t want to spoil our first date with the heavy stuff.”

She walked into the event space easily, as though what she’d said hadn’t sent a shock straight through Spencer. First date? Was this what that was? Could Spencer really be enjoying himself so much on a date now, after so long?

Turns out, he could. The event space was full of people all cooing over the artwork. There was just about everything in the gallery from sculptures to photographs, each from local artists. Though Y/N had been pulled in so many directions since being there, Spencer was enjoying the brief time he did get to share with her. She had such an optimistic outlook on life, preferring to smile and laugh than discuss any sort of hardships.

While she was off talking to one of her old teachers, Spencer found himself standing in front of a painting. It was done mostly in shades of blue and purple, deep colors swatched across the page. A hand, reaching out with tensed muscles and fingers barely missing the one in the corner of the canvas. The other hand was extended toward the first, reaching up as though begging to be pulled to safety. It was a narrow miss, fingertips gliding past each other as they failed to save the person that needed them.

Spencer understood that grief intimately, the knowledge that he hadn’t saved the person who’d begged for him in their last moments awake.

Then the canvas beside it, this time covered in pinks and reds, hints of orange splashed across it. Two hands gripping tightly to one another, finally getting that salvation the others had not.

“You found mine.” Though he’d only known her briefly, Spencer could recognize the joy of her voice right away.

“You made this one?” Spencer asked, incredulous to the fact that she’d made the art that he’d been drawn to that night. “It’s stunning.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” she laughed with the careful humility of someone who wasn’t used to compliments.

“No, really,” Spencer insisted, needing her to understand how talented she was. It ached to think that she hadn’t been told that before, and he would commit to letting her know every day if it meant she understood the beauty of her work. “Everything about it makes sense, it draws out those intense emotions associated with needing to be saved and desperately trying to save someone you love.”

“I guess you’re right,” she conceded, barely looking over her own work.

“I make it a habit to be right,” Spencer teased, “so you should believe me.”

“Is that so?” she played right back, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at him in a way that just made Spencer want to laugh and hug her close. “How can I believe a stranger I just met last week?”

“You’ll just have to trust me.”

“You know,” Y/N began, her entire expression softening as she seemed to consider whether or not to say the words hovering on her lips. “You don’t feel like a stranger to me. Is that weird?”

It would be weird under any other circumstance. Spencer never would have understood what that meant before now—never would have believed that he could be in a situation like this—but now he looked at this woman and understood precisely what she meant.

Spencer knew this woman. He was comfortable with her in an entirely new way to him, like she was an old friend he was reuniting with. Being near her warmed his chest, made him want to smile and dance around the room. This woman already had a space carved out just for her in his heart, and maybe it had been there right from the start. He looked at her and for once didn’t think of all he’d missed out on with Maeve—Spencer only saw how much he wanted to experience with her.

“I’m okay with weird,” Spencer conceded softly, repeating the words she’d first spoken earlier that night.

It was the strangest beginning to a relationship he’d ever heard of, but Spencer was ready to dive right in.

Life with Spencer was magical.

After being told you needed a new heart to live, you weren’t sure you’d ever get the fairytale romance you’d dreamed of since childhood. Since they’d given you a timer to the eventual end, you’d always assumed that you simply weren’t meant to find the love you so desperately wanted.

Even now you weren’t sure what you believed, but it certainly felt miraculous to not only receive the heart you needed to keep going but also to find Spencer.

Spencer, who brought you dinner and curled up on the couch with you on days when moving was too tough. On better days, the two of you would take walks in the park and swap stories of two lives well-lived. You told him about the nights you snuck out with your friends to go hotel pool jumping, and in return he told you about the time his lab team decided to see how much force it would take to explode a watermelon.

You never once told him about the condition that caused you to be more familiar with the local hospital than your best friend’s apartment, and he never told you about the tragedy that caused the pain hidden deep in his hazel eyes.

From the way he’d reacted to your paintings, it was clear he’d lost someone. You’d painted those particular works to let out the grief of watching the friends you’d met at the hospital get sicker while you got the call all of you wanted. You’d painted it for the way you’d watched your chances wither away for years—you watched your family and friends slowly lose faith that you’d recover, and you watched them already begin to mourn you before you were even gone.

You’d painted it for people like Spencer, who had to watch someone they loved leave them.

The pain was unbearable, so neither of you touched it. You locked it away for another time, when this wasn’t so new and beautiful.

Pain demands to be felt, though, so as the weeks went by so too did your period of pure magic with Spencer.

“Hello, is this Miss L/N?” the voice asked as you answered the phone. You’d been getting ready to go see a friend, but when you get a call from the hospital you’d spent so much time at, that takes precedence. Had there been some error they just now caught a year later? Were you going to end up right back there?

“It is,” you answered, voice shaking as you tried not to think of the worst possible scenarios.

“You had requested to reach out to the family of your donor, and I am so pleased to announce that they have agreed to release their information.”

“Are you serious?” You’d called the hospital a few months ago, wanting to thank them for all their family member had done for you. Instead of the sentimental moment you’d been expecting, you were told that the donor family did not allow their information to be released to you. You’d resigned yourself to never meeting the people who’d saved your life, but now suddenly, the opportunity opened right back up for you.

“Even better, they’ve agreed to meet you,” the person on the phone said. Could this get any better? “Could you get down here today?”

“Absolutely, I’ll be there right away,” you answered, voice shaking for a whole new reason now. Would this be a suitable outfit to meet them in? Would they judge you for being the one who received their loved one’s ultimate gift? Was it truly happening, you getting to finally see the people who gave you the chance to live, to love?

You bounced the entire drive over, mind reeling with the possibilities. You wanted to know everything about this person who had given you everything, and you wanted to know that their family was okay.

Getting into the hospital was a blur of signing forms and visitor stickers. You were led through countless hallways until someone told you that just inside that room, your donor’s family awaits.

There was only one hospital door away, one turn of a doorknob away from seeing the most important person you’d never met yet.

And God, was it so much worse when you opened that door.

Because there, standing in front of you, was Spencer.

The nurses who’d cared for you all the times you were in the hospital were cheering, but all you could do was stare at the shell-shocked man in front of you. His hazel eyes widened impossibly large, lips parted as though he’d begun to say something but stopped mid-way.

Your boyfriend was the family. That grief he’d carried with him for so long had been because he’d lost it all the same day you’d been given everything.

“Spencer,” you tried, stepping forward.

Your words must have sparked something in him, because all of a sudden he was stepping back away from you. His shocked expression shuttered away into what resembled horror, anger.

“Did you know?”

“What?” you asked, the words taking your breath away.

“Did. you. know?”

“How would I know?” you countered, trying to take another step toward him and feeling something crack in your chest when he stepped away again. “Spencer, how would I know?”

“Is this some kind of game? You get my wife’s heart and you think we should be together?” The words snapped harshly against you, widening the distance between you and Spencer even more.

He had a wife. A year ago, Spencer had been married. He’d found someone to love and you were one of the few people who had all that was left of her.

Oh God, how had this ended up so terribly?

“Spencer, I didn’t know. Please believe me,” you pushed, tears now obscuring your view of him. “I didn’t know.”

“You had to know,” Spencer snapped. Never once had you heard him so angry, so hurt. His voice crackled with it, sending to you harsh electricity strong enough to stop the precious heart you’d been given. “Do you know the odds of us meeting naturally? Of us loving each other naturally? It’s slim to none. You set this up to fulfill some twisted fantasy.”

“I didn’t!” you shouted then, voice wet with the tears spilling over your cheeks. “Why can’t you believe we love each other?”

“Because you have Maeve’s heart!” Spencer shouted, eyes finally releasing the tears he’d been holding back all this time. “I thought I was over her but clearly I was just drawn to her again. It was never about you, I must’ve known it was her.”

This wasn’t happening. It was supposed to be magical, but all you felt now was that you must’ve been handed a curse worse than Maleficent’s. You were given a chance to live but you’d lost the one person you truly loved because of that same chance. There was no way Spencer was drawn to you because of her, it had to have been you, right? It had to be real, there was no other option.

“Fine, if you really believe that then you won’t have to see me again,” you forced out, trying to steel up your expression so he wouldn’t see you so vulnerable. He didn’t deserve to see that anymore. “Goodbye, Spencer. I hope you find peace someday.”

Each step you took out of that hospital felt impossible. The heart that beat furiously in your chest ached with a pain you had never known before. You wondered if Maeve Reid had known this kind of heartbreak too, or if it was new for this muscle entirely. She must have been wonderful for Spencer to have loved her so dearly.

She must have been everything, to be able to simultaneously give you the world and keep all of the important parts of it away from you.

Autumn always brought with it the best colors. It bathed the world in brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows. It enveloped the city in a beautiful golden light that seemed to make everything feel okay.

Nothing was perfect, but you were okay.

“Are you ready?” your best friend and confidante asked as she adjusted the strap on your dress. “This is the big one.”

“No,” you let out a nervous laugh, clenching your hands together so you didn’t run them through your hair and mess up the carefully done style.

What if no one bought your art? What if, after everything, you still weren’t good enough? So many factors could impact the results of tonight, and very few of them did you actually have control over. Tonight, your fate was left to the people in town.

“You’re so talented, Y/N,” your friend reassured you, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving out of the way. “Try to relax and enjoy the night.”

And you would. You would step out into the art show meant only for you, and you would try not to remember the last one you’d been to in this building. All night you’d look around the room and visibly shake your head, forcing out images of you and Spencer bonding over art pieces.

This night was about you, and certainly had nothing to do with him. So you’d smile and thank everyone for coming. Each time a piece sold you’d try not to cheer too much. For every journalist who wanted to hear your story, you’d smile and tell of the woman who’d given you a second chance, how you would not waste what she’d given you.

And when your Stories of Grief paintings sold, you tried not to cry. You’d held onto it for months, not wanting to get rid of the one reminder of Spencer you had. He was well and truly gone from your life now like a terrible, but great, dream.

“I always did love those paintings.” It had been months since you’d heard it, but you’d know that voice anywhere. His voice was soft now, gentle so as to not scare you. Though you didn’t turn your head from the art, you could feel his presence beside you now.

“Why are you here?” you asked, sounding more tired than the anger you’d wanted to convey. Because the truth of the matter was, you weren’t even mad at him. How could a simple word such as angry possibly convey all you were feeling now?

“I missed you,” Spencer admitted, and finally you turned to face him. After so many months, all you could see was that he looked exhausted. Dark circles hung under his eyes even deeper than you’d remembered. His hands shook a little at his sides, and his hazel eyes couldn’t keep still on your face for too long before looking around the room.

“Really? You missed me?”

How could it possibly be that easy? Did he truly think he could walk back in here and win you back just like that?

You wanted him back. There was nothing you wanted more than to forgive him and jump into his arms. Still, the way Spencer had told you everything between you had been a lie—had been because of the heart beating in your chest—still played on a loop in your head. He’d taken a gift and turned it into something tragic, something painted in thorns and ruin.

“I have something to show you.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Spencer,” you told him, knowing that though it would be hard you had to look out for yourself this time. “I have to be here.”

“When tonight is over, please,” Spencer begged, expression melting as he pleaded with you to trust him. “I’ve been trying to find you for weeks. The restaurant said you quit.”

“I realized that job made me feel too safe. Life is never guaranteed, and I don’t intend on wasting what I have now doing anything but what I love,” you explained. It hadn’t been long after Spencer left that you’d quit. Nothing was more terrifying than quitting your stable job to pursue a dream, but it had been worth it.

“I know that now,” Spencer added, “I almost lost you because I couldn’t let go of what made me feel safe.”

“You did lose me, Spencer.” The words hit hard enough for Spencer to flinch.

“Please just think about it. I’ll be at the park across the street if you want to,” he sighed, beginning to take a step away from you. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

It was impossible to focus after that. It was like he’d attached a carabiner to your mind, keeping it tied to him all night. By the time the event was over, you were practically running to the park. What was it that he was so insistent on showing you? What could possibly be there to prove that Spencer really did love you enough to stay?

“You came.” Spencer gasped through the words, sounding like you’d reached in and stolen every bit of air from his lungs. He stood in front of you now, in the little spot you two used to lay out a blanket in and cloudgaze. In his hands were canvases.

“This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven,” you warned, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the way your hands shook. You’d never expected it to be this hard to stay this far from Spencer, to see him and not immediately hug him close.

“I know,” Spencer told you, “and maybe I don’t deserve to be forgiven, but I have to try. Y/N, Maeve was my first love. She understood me in a way no one else had before. When I lost her, I thought my life was over.”

This wasn’t helping. Where could this go now, what had he gotten himself into?

“Then there was you. You came into my life at the perfect time. I was finally ready to move on, but I wasn’t sure there was anyone else quite like her. And there’s not. You’re nothing like her.”

“Spencer, I get it. You don’t have to keep insulting me, we can just p-”

“No! No, I mean you’re so different from her and yet you are one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met. I love you, Y/N, and that scared me because you weren’t Maeve. For once, I wasn’t stuck on losing her, I was thinking about how lucky I was to get to experience this kind of love twice.”

And God, what could you say to that? Tears built up in your eyes now and you blinked rapidly to clear your view of him. You waited for the joke, for Spencer to tell you that he still wasn’t over Maeve. Instead, he added, “I will always love Maeve, but she’s gone. I think I wasn’t ready to admit that until now. But you, I love you in a completely different way. I can’t imagine life without you now. You saved me, Y/N.”

“You saved me too,” you practically whispered, thinking of how many times you’d declined blind dates because you were scared of anything serious. All your life, you’d been told not to make deep connections because no one knew how much time you had left. Now, with a whole life ahead of you, it had seemed impossible to find anyone worth sharing it with.

Spencer had changed everything.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I made an addition to your work,” Spencer admitted, handing you the canvases in his hand. The top two were your work—the hands of those who had lost each other and those that had saved one another. The third was definitely not yours. It was rugged with rudimentary lines and so many bright colors it might’ve hurt your eyes in any other circumstance. Now, you could only brush your fingertips over the surface and struggle to hold in the cries building up in your throat.

It was you and Spencer, you with a hand outstretched to hold onto his. You were lifting him up from the ground, like it was a zoomed out version of your own.

“Spencer,” you choked out, looking to him for any kind of explanation.

“I don’t want to lose you now that I’ve finally found you, Y/N. You’re everything to me,” Spencer told you, his own tears building up and spilling over his cheeks. “I love you.”

And that, well that was everything you could have ever dreamed of. So you made the choice. Life was short and nothing was ever guaranteed. The safe path would be to walk away from him, to go back to your art gallery and make a life for yourself without him in it. You would take the risk though, to rush into his arms now and promise forever.

It wasn’t perfect, but you were happy and that was all that mattered in the end.

And as you walked away with Spencer, he couldn’t help but think that maybe Maeve had been right about human life being sidereal. How else could he explain getting to be with you now? Constellations were natural arrangements of dozens of individual stars, all coming together at the right time to form something truly beautiful.

The odds of each constellation coming together exactly as they had was astronomical but they had defied all odds just as you and Spencer had.

And just like the stars that shined brightly over you, it was beautiful.

GENERAL TAGLIST @samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @safespacespence @shemarmooresfedora@reidsbookclub @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @lil-stark @sweetandsunny @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @happycamper72 @gubesboo @lilibet261 @redbloodtea @kateyee @exhaleli @m-mhotchner @ilovespencerreidmarryme @darkeunology @beatlesbug @nomajdetective @fairyellieee @meggie-m00n @spencerreid-mgg @frickin-bats@twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @kaitieskidmore1 @lolalee24 @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @quietlyignoringyou @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @tanyaherondale @reliefplease @reidscardigans @emeraldweasley

ONESHOT TAGLIST @spencerreidat3am @multixfandomwriter @justreadingficsdontmindme @natashxromanovfreads @tragiclilb @nano-noa

disclaimer: interaction from those on my taglist is greatly appreciated. please remember you're asking me to take a few extra steps to tag you in my fics, so i'd appreciate a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed it <3 taglist signup → here