#Way earlier then expected with no time to mentally prepare myself for it

[ta-bajna-cerna-okybaca]

Crying screaming throwing up etc because of the heaven official's blessing audio drama s1 finale

XL going "hey San Lang, you know way too much about me, have we met before?" and then the IMMEDIATE cut to the god-pleasing festival agsdgfjfkdakajttjss

And then!!! The montage of all their best quotes from the past!!! If you don’t know how to live on anymore, then live for me! I have a beloved who's still in this world! I pray to never rest in peace! Forget me. - Taizi dianxia, I will never forget you!!!

And then back to the festival and Xie Lian finishes catching little baby Hong-er AND THEN??? IT JUST ENDS????? HOW DARE????????

[brucewaynehater101]

Warning: Dark, Suicidal Tim, etc. Also small spoilers for the Injustice movie

Had a random thought, slightly inspired by the Injustice movie: what if Tim, in a mental health slump, decided to teach the bats a final lesson? Every time he defends himself against Damian’s attacks, he’s criticized for it. So one day, he just doesn’t.

Damian gets angry and decides to take it out on the person he won’t be criticized for attacking. After Tim doesn’t respond to his taunts, he gets physical, and throws a knife or slashes his sword, expecting Tim to get out of the out of the way or block the blow, and Tim doesn’t. The sound of a blade parting flesh and a body falling to the ground gets the other bats attention, and they turn to see Damian standing there with blood on his blade and Tim’s body on the ground.

(Inspired by the scene in the Injustice movie where Damian kills Dick by throwing a baton (escrima stick? IDK) at him, expecting him to catch it (which, earlier in the movie, he did), and Dick, being distracted, doesn’t, and it hits him directly on the temple. Accident, sure, but caused by recklessness)

Basically Damian needs to learn that attacking other people because you are angry is NOT OKAY. Seriously, if you’re pissed, go beat up a training dummy or scream into a pillow.

Does Damian learn the lesson? Or not? What about B and Dick and the others? How do they react?

[Thank you for the TWs! WARNING: This is bad batfam. I love them, but we're chucking them under the angst crack bus for this]

Tw: Dark/Suicidal Tim, domestic abuse, psychological warfare, manipulation, mentions of suicide attempt

Tim is tired of constantly fighting back and defending himself. He's tired of Damian and Jason attacking him. He's tired of Dick and Bruce pushing his boundaries.

If Tim just allows Damian to stab him, *he'll* be the one to get lectured for not dodging. It will become Tim's fault, as a trained vigilante, for not preventing himself from being injured.

What does he decide to do?

Resist with extreme psychological warfare no matter the damage to himself.

He starts small.

He curates cases/stories of sibling abuse and starts to leave them in places Dick will find (hacking/messing with Dick's fyp, newspapers around the Manor, files on the batcomputer, a case Babs is informed about, etc). They aren't reflective of Tim's experiences, not yet, but they show common patterns: adult figures not stepping in, siblings being pushed to compete, escalation, negative behaviors transferring to people/things outside of the siblings, etc.

For Bruce, Tim tricks the man into reading an intimate relationships psychology textbook by stating it was necessary for a case. He then keeps tricking the man into reading gentle parenting, boundaries, and other such information.

Jason is much easier. Tim just leaves books of various siblings relationships within the man's safehouses (healthy ones, distant, cruel, enemies, abusive, recent siblings [like adoption], etc). Jason doesn't know Tim is the one leaving those books, but he is intrigued by the "recommendations." A lot of them have other lessons Tim has prepared mixed in as well [which, if Jason finds out Tim is the one who recommended the books after he starts getting along with him, then they can have book clubs ^^].

Tim sends a ton of empathy animal related movies/shows Dick's way so that the older one ropes Damian into watching them.

This takes months, but at no point does Tim relate the lessons to Tim himself yet.

He then starts pouring in warnings. When Damian tries to hurt him again, Tim asks Dick, "What if I was too tired to dodge it?" This is the only time he asks. Dick waves it off cause Damian "knows better" now. I

Tim almost gave up the game right there and then to prove a point. He held back, though.

For Jason, Tim throws in shock-value trauma dump phrases when they meet up to prevent the older one from attacking.

Jason: *pulls out a gun*

Tim: "Damn. You'd think after threatening to kill myself to prevent my future from occurring that I'd be okay with guns. For some reason, they still make me nauseous."

Jason: *holsters gun* "What the fuck?"

Tim: *nods and then disappears*

It kind of trains Jason from attacking Tim unless he wants to hear really fucked up shit that will have his mind spiraling for days.

For Bruce, Tim just points out how and when the man crosses other people's boundaries (but doesn't point out Tim's). He doesn't put any expectation or remedy out. He just indicates it to start Bruce's thought process of "Did I just cross someone's boundary?"

Then Tim feels that it's ready. He won't get blamed for not dodging Damian's attack.

So, he lets himself be seriously stabbed.

This cues Damian into having a mental breakdown. Dick and Bruce oscillate between blaming everyone else and then themselves. Jason, after seeing the shitshow of these reactions, assigns himself (without telling the others) to suicide watch Tim [those trauma dump phrases are working against Tim here].

Once Tim awakens and realizes the mess he's created, he fucking regrets it all. He doesn't want to have to clean it all up and manipulate them into being better. He's also kind of pissed at Damian for not aiming for his heart or something. Damn.

[soaps-mohawk]

I'm going to be honest

I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.

I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.

It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.

I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.

It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.

Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.

Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.

First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.

I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.

So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.

I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.

I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.

So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.

I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.

I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.

I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.

There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.

I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.

Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.

I'm forcing it and I'm tired.

It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.

I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.

It's not you, it's me.

So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.

Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.

I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.

I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.

Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.

I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.

It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.

I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.

This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.

Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.

Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.

[aventurinemybeloved]

Summary: Aventurine wouldn't mind being your personal mannequin forever if it meant having you this close to him

Fem!reader who's a popular fashion designer all throughout the universe, currently just "friends" with aventurine here, more like sugar daddy tho- very self indulgent because I have my oc in mind while writing this lol

"Not that I'm questioning your process when it comes to your craft, but aren't you tired?"

"Hm nope, not at all are you?"

"I've handled far worse than just standing for a few hours, don't mind me friend, continue"

While that wasn't exactly a lie, it has been a couple of hours since Aventurine was made to be a makeshift mannequin for you, this was supposed to be a day to relax and take both your mind off work.

But it seems that inspiration has struck the minute you laid eyes on a particular fabric store that just got a new stock on a handful of interesting designs, without a second thought you rushed in, your companion had looked away for one second and the next he sees that you've already made yourself comfortable shuffling through the many options to choose from.

As he made his way back to your side, the faint sound of you mumbling under your breath could be heard clearer and clearer, while he didn't quite catch all of it, he was able to piece some things, one of which you wishing you had your mannequin back at the boutique right about now.

"Hey, why not use me for a bit?"

While Aventurine obviously isn't a mannequin, he can sure act like one if you need it, and that you did so you agreed without putting much thought into it, making a mental note to make him a little something as thanks.

And now here you two were, in the middle of the store as you try to pin fabric with your hands on Aventurine's body, he expected this to happen after all he's not the type to willingly volunteer for something without it benefiting him in some way, but he was not prepared for how close you'd be.

Practically an inch away from him, chest against his as you maneuver the fabric in your hands all over him trying to come up with a design in mind, his nose catching a whiff of your shampoo as the top of your head was practically in his face, he's mastered the art of keeping a poker face but a couple hours of this, no one can blame the man for cracking as time goes on.

Luckily for him it seems you've finally finished whatever it was you were doing, he can't even remember even though you were talking about it earlier, his mind growing muddled with serotonin.

He managed to snap out of it as you call over a worker to place an order for your chosen items, and of course pay for it, Aventurine beat you to it though handing his card while softly smiling.

"It's on me"

"What? Aventurine I can pay for it myself, there's really no need to-"

"I insist, it's a treat for how much I enjoyed being your little helper"

Just as you were about to contradict him, insisting even more that you should be the one paying since he already helped you, the worker has already swiped his card handing it back to him and walked off to prepare your order.

You could only facepalm, this wasn't the first time that he has thwarted your attempts at paying for your own things, he's done it so many times you've lost count, and while it's a fact that all of it combined wouldn't make a dent in his wallet, you still couldn't hell but feel guilty.

Not for long though as you could feel a hand gently patting your head, peaking up at him you could see a soft smile on his face.

"You know the deal~" he said in a singsong way

You playfully rolled your eyes

"Yeah yeah, Just let me know when you're free and we'll hang out again"

It was weird to you at first how that was the only thing he wanted after spending so much on you, but overtime you've sorta started to understand it, and want it as much as he does as well.

[kinkandkreep]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫.

♥︎ 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

♥︎ 𝑪𝑾: 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒊𝒏𝒋𝒖𝒓𝒚, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

♥︎ "__" 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

Having an overall shitty time was certainly not on your daily agenda, but such is life.

‘Could be worse,’ you thought as you sank further into the backseat of your taxi. ‘I could be dead.’

The thought came and drifted just as quickly as it arrived, causing you to sigh. You’d have called Miguel to come pick you up or send someone from his company to escort you, but you didn’t yet feel up to withstanding the barrage of questions that were bound to come from Gigi once he saw you looking worn out, or have the chauffeur go blabbing about the way you looked to him before you even mustered up the energy to do so yourself.

A cab was much safer. Besides, if you happened to break out into tears because of your terrible day, the cabby probably wouldn’t care, let alone ask questions. 

As you watched the buildings pass, you unwittingly recalled the events of the day, wincing as the loud harsh voice of your boss played over in your head. 

“That’s the second time today I’ve had to give you these instructions, and it’s the second time you’ve proven your incompetence! Do it right or I’ll have you suspended! Do I make myself clear?”

It wasn’t the first time your boss had raised his voice at you, and for as long as you continued to be employed there, you were almost certain it wouldn’t be the last. Normally, you wouldn’t care, and seeing as you were actually the exact opposite of incompetent, you knew your boss wouldn’t have you suspended, but today for some reason, hearing him fuss had been especially hard on you.

After that, you’d had your coworkers drink spilled all over you, your favorite pen burst and the ink made a mess, you got so caught up at work that you missed the window of opportunity to make an appointment with your perpetually booked optometrist, your period came earlier than expected and it felt like you were cramping everywhere, you accidentally cut yourself while using some scissors, causing you to bleed all over an important file and finally, you were beyond the point of hangry because you’d now gone more than 14 hours without eating anything. 

In short, you were over it.

The seat of the cab was sticking to your clothes a bit, and you tried really hard to convince yourself that it was because you were sweaty (you weren’t, and it wasn’t).

Eventually, your ride stopped in front of your apartment complex. Tiredly thanking the cabby, who of course didn’t respond, you stepped out, barely having secured your belongings and shut the door before the taxi driver sped off, presumably off to his next passenger. 

You took a moment to watch it leave, before sighing and turning to head into your building. 

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

‘Why did I know this would happen?’

The thought repeats over in your head as you stare at the sign on the elevator reading ‘OUT OF ORDER.’

Unable to muster up the energy to even be pissed about the situation, you simply make your way over to the stairs, trying with every step to mentally prepare yourself for the long, grueling walk up a whopping 4 flights of steps. 

It takes you a little longer than it might on any other day to make it to your floor, but once you do, you practically sprint to your door, never having been more ecstatic about seeing it. 

Fumbling a bit with the key, you finally insert it into the lock, flinging yourself into your apartment and nearly screaming upon seeing a large man sitting on your couch. 

“Jesus! Gigi, I love you, but you really gotta break that habit of not telling me when you plan to come over.” You fully shut the door behind you, putting away your coat and purse.

Miguel, who’d been spread out on the couch, smiled, standing and making his way over to envelope you in a tight hug. 

“Aw, but that would spoil the surprise. Aren’t you happy to see me when I visit?” He pouts down at you, thumbs rubbing small circles into your hips.

“Of course I am. But, I’d be even happier if you didn’t almost give me a stroke when I open the door to find my should-be empty apartment already occupied.”

With that, you pat Miguel’s shoulder, easing out of his hold and beginning to make your way into the kitchen. He follows, taking a seat at the island and watching you as you move about. 

“So, tell me about your day.”

You visibly cringe, the memories beginning to flood through your mind’s eye. 

“Ugh, I’d really rather not.”

Miguel lifts a quizzical brow. “That bad?”

“Worse. But it’s whatever, we all have bad days sometimes. It’s an inevitable part of living.”

You take a sip of your drink, and in any other circumstance, Miguel might comment on the fact that you’re drinking wine directly out of the bottle, but he figures if your day’s been so bad you can’t even talk about it, you probably deserve to be left alone about your questionable drinking habits. 

“Well, that’s no good.” Miguel stands, rounding the island to wrap his arms around your waist and gently squeeze. 

You chuckle, leaning into the embrace. “Yep, no good indeed.”

The two of you stand like that for some moments, and Miguel can sense the slightest tensing of your shoulders. 

“You know, cariño, if you need to cry, that’s perfectly ok.” Miguel speaks in a soft, low tone next to your ear, his chin resting comfortingly on your shoulder. 

You smile, about to thank him for the reassurance, when you feel your throat tightening up. 

Try as you might, you can’t make the feeling go away, and after a few seconds tears are streaming down your cheeks and your chest and shoulders jump with every hiccup. 

“Aw, suéltalo, mi amor. It’s ok.”

Miguel gently turns you so that you’re facing his chest, and immediately you snuggle into him, releasing the day's stress and frustration in salty streaks dampening his shirt. 

For quite a few minutes, you both stand there, Miguel lightly swaying you from side to side in a gesture meant to be comforting. He whispers words of encouragement, both in English and Spanish, his large arms wrapped securely around you and offering you some much needed grounding in the moment. 

“Thank you Gigi,” you speak, voice slightly hoarse from your crying. “I needed that.” 

Miguel chuckles, planting a wet smooch right on your forehead. 

“Of course, mi amor. I think we all need to cry sometimes.” He gives you a small smile, rubbing your arms reassuringly. 

“Now, why don’t we spend the rest of the evening unwinding, hmm?” He turns, guiding you over to the couch. “You sit right here, and I’ll take care of everything. I’ll cook your favorite meal, run you a bath, read you a bedtime story,” he teases, lips tickling your ear and causing you to giggle.

“Don’t worry cariño, I know just how to make you feel better.” 

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

‘If only life could always be like this.’

You sigh, reclining further into the bathtub. Sweet rose and pink peony scented bubbles tingled against your skin, colorful swirls decorating the warm water surrounding you. You were glad to have finally made use of the epsom salt you’d bought before, always being too exhausted from work to find the energy to take a long bath instead of a quick shower. 

You could already feel the soothing effect the salt had on your overworked muscles. The lights in the bathroom were dimmed, creating a much calmer ambience that you found did wonders for your nerves. Lightly scented candles were placed carefully around the room, adding to the atmosphere, and a now nearly empty glass of Romanee sat cradled in your hand.

You couldn’t help but feel spoiled. And a little bloated. 

Miguel had been serious when he said he was going to make your favorite meal. And by favorite, he meant all your favorites. 

What he didn’t have the ingredients to make, he ordered, and once everything was either done or had been delivered, he sat you down and practically hand fed you all manner of hors d’oeuvres and appetizers, a grand entree and finally, a couple of your most favorite, decadent desserts. 

“I’m gonna be too heavy to move tomorrow,” you’d complained, rubbing your steadily aching stomach.

“Don’t worry,” Miguel had laughed. “I’ll carry you.” 

Now here you sat while he tended to the dishes and cleaning. 

Miguel had already firmly told you that you wouldn’t be going to work the following day, and you initially had half a mind to panic about it, but then decided to not and shrugged, agreeing with a simple “ok.”

Everything now felt perfect. 

Except there was one thing, or rather, one person missing. 

“Gigi!” You called out for the man. “Hurry up and come join me! It’s not as enjoyable without you.”

It was quiet for a few moments, before you could hear his footsteps- and laughter- approaching the bathroom. 

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, mi amor.” Miguel closed the door behind himself, beginning to strip. 

You watched as he did, still in awe of his sculpted figure. The feeling never shook, no matter how many times you’d seen him naked. 

Your boyfriend was stunning, and after everything he’d done for you today, you were even more grateful to have him. 

Once he was finished, you scooted forward, allowing him to ease into the tub behind you. You slotted back in between his legs, back pressed to his chest and head resting beneath his chin.

“Ah, much better.” You sighed, causing the both of you to chuckle. 

“I’m glad. Are you feeling better?”

“Very much, all thanks to you.” The two of you met in the middle for a passionate, prolonged kiss, tongues dancing to a familiar tune. 

Finally separating, you turned to lean against Miguel again, and for the next 15 or so minutes, there you sat- mostly in very comfortable silence, but occasionally engaged in pleasant, quiet conversation. 

It took about that long for the water to turn cold, and once it did, you both stood and began showering, taking turns washing each other’s backs and generally being silly. 

In the back of your mind, you thought about just how much better you truly felt. Miguel had certainly worked his magic and, essentially, brought you back to life. As you stood under the warm spray of water from the showerhead, Gigi teasing you about how funny you looked with your shower cap on, you smiled, taking a moment to feel the soap suds slide down your body and the firmness of Miguel’s own frame against yours. 

Once you both were clean and rinsed, Miguel took it upon himself to towel you off, and you, deciding that it wasn’t fair to let him do all the work, towel dried his hair for him, grinning at the mess you made of the chestnut strands. 

After you were dry, Miguel wrapped you in your towel before slinging his own around his hips, the two of you beginning your nightly oral hygiene routine. You always kept Miguel’s extra toothbrush and preferred toothpaste brand handy in your bathroom, seeing as he never slept in the guest room. 

Well, unless you were mad at him. 

Your couch wasn’t big enough to accommodate him and you never had the heart to force the big teddy bear to sleep on it, no matter what he did to piss you off. 

It annoyed you to no end, but hey, a dummy though he may be, he was your dummy and you couldn’t have him swinging around with a sore back. He had people to save and a city to protect after all.

As you brushed, a random tune started playing in your head, and seeing as you were in such a good mood, you broke out into a little jig. 

Miguel gave you the bombastic side eye, before turning to watch you fully. You paid him no mind, continuing to shake and jive to the beat that was only audible in your head. A moment later, you began humming as you danced, and once Miguel recognized the song, he chuckled around his toothbrush, beginning to hum as well. 

It took you a little longer than it normally would to wrap up your routine, but you had fun, so neither of you minded. 

Finally, the two of you made it into bed, talking to each other and laughing. 

“So, have I successfully helped you to feel better? Seems so if the bathroom is anything to go by.” Gigi chuckles, looking down at you expectantly from where he rests on his raised fist, his other thumb tracing circles on your hips. 

You playfully roll your eyes, quickly leaning up to nip at his nose. It wrinkles cutely in response, causing you to giggle.

“Yes Gigi, you have succeeded in helping me feel better. But mock me about my dancing and I’ll eat your nose for real.” You point a warning finger at him. 

“No worries, I won’t. I found it cute more than anything.” He leans down, placing quick pecks all over your face. 

The barrage is unavoidable, and once you come to this realization, you simply sit and accept your fate. 

Once your big beau is satisfied, he flips over onto his back, staring with you at the ceiling. 

“In all seriousness though, I’m really glad you feel better __.”

He intertwined his fingers with yours, and you squeeze reflexively. 

“Me too. Thank you, Miguel.”

“Fue mi placer, mi amor.”

Buy me a Kofi?

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐲'𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨' 𝐈 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲/𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞-𝐲/𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐚. 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝!

[kpop-s-akura]

Like to Be You || b.cc

TEASER / Release Date: TBD

🌸Pairing: Bang Christopher Chan x fem!Reader 🌸Description: You and Chris have been dating for roughly half a year, not very long by most people's standards.

As expected in a relationship between an idol and a college student (and relationships in general), there's obstacles to overcome and things to learn, but you know you love each other very much — and love should be enough. And yet, there comes a breaking point and your and Chris' relationship hits a wall, as you two don't yet understand what it's like to be the other. 🌸Genre (s)/Content: SFW; angst; established relationship; curse words; mentions of familial issues; these will be added to and(/or) edited in the final work!

🌸Teaser Word Count: 540

🌸A/N: At the end; was too long lol

Happy reading!🖤🖤

🎶Now Playing:🎶 Like to Be You (feat. Julia Michaels) by Shawn Mendes

❀❀❀

“All right everybody, that’ll be all for today. I’ve uploaded the outline and I’ll see you all for the midterm; study hard!” The bustling of the students around me mingled with the low playing music that flowed through my earbuds — but neither did anything to distract me from the pounding headache that thumped my brain for the past day. 

Week. Month, more like it.

Ever since the professors had us start thinking about our midterms and semi-preparing for them, it’s like a fire lit under my ass and I felt it in my temples.

While I wasn’t pulling all-nighters to study (yet) and explicitly killing myself over the prospective tests (yet), I was stressed to hell in a way I couldn’t even fathom.

Was it because the school made an internal error, and now our midterms were weeks earlier than other colleges?

It’s inconvenient, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.

I mean I am in my senior year. But it wasn’t even my final midterm, I still have another in March; thank fuck the school didn’t screw up both testing dates.

Perhaps the ugly feelings of my depreciating status with my mom was still busting my back. Was I not as truly indifferent to what was going on? 

Not like I thought I was.

My mom and I disagreed on many things, including how I would continue on with my life. It made for quite the strain on our bond and my mental health for a bit.

It was upsetting, but I adapted to our new dynamics and I often try to not think about it.

There was also the situation of my full-time job, which wasn’t offering me any rest from the business of school. 

I had been working at the same department store for almost my entire college career, and I got promoted to manager status because of that.

So it wasn’t a matter of first-day (or even first-year) nervousness, it was just an adult job that gave me adult stress and adult anger.

There were many other problems going on in my life, substantial and infinitesimal, but I never once considered my relationship with Chris to be one of them.

Bang Christopher Chan. Stage name, Bangchan.

Leader of fourth generation K-pop boy group and global sensation: Stray Kids.

Never, in my wildest dreams — even the ones I had during a fever — did I imagine myself dating an idol.

While I rarely ever listened to K-pop before, I did like a couple of songs and recognized the occasional idol thanks to friends who were a part of the fandom; of which almost all were Stays.

And it’s not like Stray Kids weren’t one of the biggest names in South Korea, at the time. I could usually recognize their faces from the numerous billboards, media ads, or pictures my friends would show me.

But at first, I didn’t recognize Chris.

In the middle of the National Museum of Korea, amidst the dozens — maybe even hundreds, that day — of visitors, it’s no wonder he had his identity wrapped up so tightly.

Unfortunately, when you’re a global superstar like Chan, you’re bound to be recognized in public by one of your superfans.

And that’s how we crossed paths.

❀❀❀

🌸A/N: Happiest birthday to my dear, Channie!!!!🥳🎂🎊🎉

In America at least lol.

I wanted to post this for his birthday, but many complications happened (including, but definitely not limited to, Hurricane Helene). Even now, I'm posting this much later than I originally meant to🫠🫠🫠

Regardless, I'm happy to post this teaser for his special day instead☺️ I have no idea when this'll actually be posted, I'm crossing my fingers for it to be before the end of October, but I have much more free time to work on it as I'm on an extended break!

Happy birthday again to my special boy!🥰🫶

[juanysusalchica]

Jealous! Edgar x Reader

This was a request from a friend who likes Edgar a lot.... not good at writing him but it gets me out of my comfort zone.

You stayed hidden on the tall grass to recover your health after you were attacked by Shelly’s bullets, fortunately and surprisingly you survived. When she was out of ammo, this gave you the opportunity to escape.

You weren’t good in Solo showdown, the reason why you survived is because you simply ran away from any brawler’s encounter and dodge their bullets. Earlier this day, you played the Duo version with Edgar, but this made him annoyed when he found out that you chickened out during the whole game while he had to carry your team.

After losing the game together, frustrated, he said that you should get out of your comfort zone and try solo instead. For now, only two more brawlers left leaving you, Shelly, and some individual.

When your health reached to its peak, you suddenly heard a sheer screaming, you immediately recognized it was Shelly, she was out of the game.

Your anxiety increased as the green toxic gas was consuming your surroundings forcing you to get out of your hiding spot. Sucking in some air, you prepared yourself to jump out of the tall grass when you heard a familiar voice.

“Ugh, where are they?” they grumbled.

“Wait a minute, I recognize that voice…” you thought, cautiously walking out of your hiding spot and saw a familiar young man wearing darker clothing, you immediately recognized that it was Edgar who was wildly searching on the other side of the map, his back facing you, unaware that you were literally standing from behind.

This is it.

This is your opportunity to finally show him that you can win without his help. The times you’ve teamed with him, you managed to learn about Edgar’s attacks, his range are short and needs to be closer to the enemy making him an easy prey for long range attacks, so this was a piece of cake.

Without making a sound, you aimed your shot at him, taking a mental note to be far away from him as possible. When Edgar was about to turn around, you sucked in air once again and threw you first attack on him.

“Aah! Hey!” He gasped, clutching his arm to where he was hit, his eyes move wildly around the place to search his attacker until his eyes locked with yours. His blood ran cold when he saw you standing boldly in front of him, he was too used in seeing you coward throughout the games and now you got him cornered.

Realization hits him as soon as you lifted your weapon to throw your next attack, Edgar quickly spotted a wall and immediately bolted to get cover.

Your nervousness took the better of you thinking that he’ll use his super, you threw out all your attacks hitting him before he could reach thus eliminating him out of the game. You have won.

You ran towards him to help him get up; Edgar slapped your hand away from him. You flinched, not understanding why he was reacting this way.

“Leave me alone; I can do it myself.” He barked, rising from the dusty ground abruptly.

“Edgar, I was just trying to help you...”

The look of anger on his face soon morphed into one of realization and then embarrassment, he was so focused in winning the game and he shouldn’t let his anger overtake him and hearing the way your voice cracked made his heart sink.

“I… sorry, I shouldn’t react this way, especially not to you.” He muttered, turning to leave. Its was a bad habit of him in shooing people away and bottle up his feelings.

“No wait!” you plead.

Suddenly, you grabbed him by the wrist stopping from his tracks and looked at him with concern.

“Please don’t go. Tell me why you are behaving like this…”

Edgar was stunned at this action for he did not expect you to touch him; he doesn’t like when others touch him especially Collette but when it came to you it made his little shriveled heart skip a beat. His anxiety began to rise, he wanted to run away and die from embarrassment, but his legs wouldn’t budge forcing him to stay with you.

Edgar let out a sigh of defeat and nods.

“Okay but promise me that you won’t hate me after this.”

You furrowed your brow at his commentary, you were puzzled on why you would hate him, slowly shaking your head, Edgar took a deep breath and looked at you directly in the eye.

“The reason why I was angry is because... I was jealous that you beat me. There, are you happy now?”

Edgar turned around crossing his arms, a pink hue appeared across his face. You blinked, not the kind of answer you were expected. Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by your laughter in which caused Edgar off guard. He looked at you with wide eyes as if you had grown an extra head. “Hey, what’s so funny about?”

“Haha, I’m sorry, its just- Pfft, I never thought you’d get angry at me just because I defeated you!” You laughed out loud, leaving you almost breathless, this made Edgar’s face go profusely red. After taking a few breaths to calm your laughter and gave him a small smile.

“If I’m being honest, I thought you’d be proud of me for being able to play by my own, I never care about winning.”

Edgar was out of words; his mind ran with different excuses but them of them were convincing. Realizing that he had forced you in getting out of your comfort zone just to show him that your capable in surviving had made him feel like a monster.

A small chuckle escaped from his lips and scratched the back of his neck embarrassed.

“Wow, now I feel like a bad person.”

“Oh, don’t be harsh with yourself,” you scoffed, swaying your hand through the air, “I’m glad that you were able to talk about your feelings. Next time, can we play duo together?”

Edgar’s eyes widen at the offer, for a moment he thought you would hate him when talking about his jealousy and leave. He was lost at his thought that he didn’t hear you calling his name, he then blinked when you slide your hand pulling back to consciousness.

“Huh, oh I mean, sure whatever.”

Edgar slowly smiled at the offer, realizing that despite his jealousy and harsh attitude, you still wanted to see him and play together.

[outfitqueer]

20 Things We as Trans Wish We Knew Before Transitioning

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

Did you know that the journey of transitioning often reveals lessons that only become clear in hindsight?

When I reached out to fellow trans individuals and asked them what they wished they had known before their transition, here’s what they told me:

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“I wish I had known that self-acceptance takes time. It’s a process that unfolds gradually. It wasn’t something that happened instantly for me.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“I wish I had understood that support comes in many forms. You might not find it where you expect, but new sources of support will appear in unexpected places.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“I never anticipated that my identity would continue to evolve. I thought transitioning would be the end of my self-discovery, but it turned out to be just the beginning.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“If only I had realized that the process isn’t linear. There were so many twists and turns along the way. It’s normal to feel like you’re moving backwards sometimes.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“I wish I had paid more attention to self-care. I didn’t fully grasp how important it was to nurture my mental and emotional health throughout the transition.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“Finding a supportive community earlier would have made a huge difference. I didn’t know how invaluable it would be to connect with others who truly understood me.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“I was caught off guard by how many people wouldn’t understand. If I could do it over, I’d prepare myself for the ignorance and work on being patient and educating others.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“Patience would have been a great ally. Transitioning and gaining acceptance took much longer than I expected. I wish I’d been more patient with myself and others.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“I didn’t expect the emotional highs and lows to be so intense. Recognizing and accepting these fluctuations would have helped me cope better.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“Finding my voice and learning to advocate for myself was crucial. I wish I had realized sooner how empowering it would be to speak up for my needs and experiences.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“I didn’t fully grasp how much transitioning would impact my relationships. If I could go back, I’d be more prepared for these changes and how to navigate them.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“Self-compassion was something I struggled with. I wish I had been kinder to myself during the tough times. It’s important to remember that setbacks are part of the journey.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“Celebrating small victories was something I overlooked. I wish I had focused more on acknowledging and enjoying my achievements along the way.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“Navigating public spaces was more challenging than I had anticipated. I wish I had been better prepared for the complexities and how to handle them.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“Building resilience was essential. I learned that developing inner strength helps in facing challenges and setbacks. I wish I had understood its importance earlier.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“Embracing my unique path was something I had to learn. Comparing my journey to others was unhelpful. I wish I had focused more on my own experience.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“The journey didn’t end with transitioning. Personal growth and self-discovery continued beyond that. I wish I’d known that there’s always more to learn and explore.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“Financial planning is something I wish I’d focused on more. Transitioning came with significant costs, and better budgeting would have eased some of the stress.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“I should have sought out comprehensive legal and medical advice earlier. Having a better understanding from the start would have made many decisions easier.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

“I found that documenting my journey helped me a lot. Keeping a journal or recording my experiences provided a way to process the emotional ups and downs.”

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

[yoongisugaagust]

It’s Your Turn

•Summary: Min Yoongi’s spidey senses are tingling.

Yoongi groaned almost as soon as he got settled into bed. “Did my angel go down okay?”

“OUR angel,” you playfully rolled your eyes. Your husband loved being a father and took so much pride in your daughter. “Yeah we had a day so she went down really smoothly.”

He kissed your forehead as he cuddled into you. “I was really craving ice cream earlier but you ate it all,” he pouted. You turned to him very confused.

“No? You know I don’t eat much ice cream. Only on my period and then I leave plenty for you. I always do because I can never finish it all. Didn’t you finish all the cookies n cream last time?”

“Last time? I didn’t buy you cookies n cream last time. I bought it the month before.” Yoongi snuggled into the covers trying to remember which flavor he bought you last month to prove you wrong. Suddenly he sat straight up in bed.

“Yoon what the fuck,” you were falling asleep until his sudden movement pulled you awake.

“Jagi,” he said looking straight at you. “I didn’t buy you ice cream last month..” he looked at you expectedly.

“Okay? Yoon that’s not a crime and definitely no reason to wake me up.” You groaned trying to get back to your comfy spot.

“Jagiya I always buy you ice cream because you always crave it when you start your period,” he waited for you to realize what he realized. “I didn’t buy you ice cream last month because you never started your period! You’re pregnant!!”

“Yoongs. That is a wild conclusion you just jumped to.” You sat up in bed now questioning whether he could be right or not. “Do you think?”

“Only one way to find out,” he couldn’t help the growing smile that you two could be expecting your third baby.

————————————

Yoongi stood with his back to the bathroom sink as the two of you waited for the pregnancy test to reveal its results. It was the first out of five he purchased on his way home from the studio. You were pacing back and forth outside the bathroom door.

“You’re not happy about this are you?” He plainly asked.

“It’s not that. Not that at all,” you continued pacing until he grabbed you by the hand to pull you into his hold. “You’re so excited but what if it turns out negative and you’re disappointed? Or what if I am but..you know? I didn’t make it out of the first trimester with our first and I had so many complications with Luna. We weren’t even officially trying yet.” Your husband closed his eyes and kissed the top of your head. “If I am pregnant I will be happy but I just haven’t mentally prepared myself for all the things that come with it.”

“I want to tell you we have nothing to worry about. In a perfect world we wouldn’t have to second guess this decision but what I can tell you is that I’ll be right here with you every step of the way. Even if you change your mind about wanting to get pregnant again.” He rubbed your arms up and down and kissed your head again.

“I want to have another one it’s just all these fears. I,” you shake your head lightly. “If it comes out positive we’ll take it a day at a time, right?” Neither of you bothered to pull away from the other when the timer went off. “Yoongi,” you spoke up mumbling into his chest as you continued hugging him. “I think you should be the one to check. I found out by myself when I got pregnant with Luna so I think this time it should be you.”

“You want me to look?” You shook your head yes. While still holding you he leaned over to see. He took a second and then leaned in closer to get a better look. “What is it?” You mumbled into his shirt. Yoongi stood in place again squeezing you a little and kissed your head. “We’re having another baby.”

[bep1erfics]

shen ricky - over me (part 3)

months after you two broke up, mr. young & rich comes back into your life, ready to ruin it all over again.

a few hours have passed since ricky left your apartment. it was currently 5pm, but all you could do was glue your eyes upwards at the blank ceiling, drowsing away in deep thoughts.

“what should i do? why am i getting involved in that douchebag’s business?”

you continued to blabber to the ceiling about how surreal everything in your world felt. as soon as your heart got broken, the culprit comes back into your life, ready to ruin it again.

just as you got lost in your thoughts, you remembered ricky warned you about being late. you glanced over to your phone, which showed you the time.

“5:02?!”

you ran upstairs, starting the shower. after blow drying your hair, you were left with about half an hour to decide on clothes and makeup.

to be frank, you wanted to impress ricky and show him what he was missing out on. so, you scanned your closet to find a dress that revealed not too much, but still complimented your body nicely.

at a fast pace, the finishing touches were added to your makeup. you kept it simple yet sophisticated, scared that you might over do it. who knew where ricky was gonna take you?

as you prepared your purse, you couldn’t help but stare at yourself in the mirror in awe. you haven’t properly taken care of yourself in so long, so looking at yourself all dressed up was a shock.

the doorbell finally rang, leaving you no choice but to answer by opening the door.

a large gust of wind blew into your eyes as ricky looked at you with that emotionless blank stare. deep down, you were hoping that he would react to your new appearance, but he just stood there looking uninterested.

ricky was wearing a white shirt that revealed his collarbones as it was unbuttoned. his tall figure towered over you, sending chills down your spine. as much as you didn’t want to admit it, he looked jaw dropping. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. that night, you found ricky quite alluring.

“are you gonna take all day to come out? hurry up, i don’t have time to waste.”

ricky scoffed, leaving you behind.

“wait for me!”

you quickly caught up, walking behind the tall blonde. his broad shoulders made you feel anxious, so you planted your eyes to the ground until you made it to the elevator. the door opened and ricky entered. you stood there, spacing out as your brain mentally did a hundred pirouettes.

“are you gonna come or not?”

ricky’s stern look was intimidating, so horrifying as you compared his old bubbly-personality to his new one. how did he change?

the sound of your heels clang to the floor as you walked inside the elevator. ricky pressed the button and the elevator started going down. once the door opened, ricky grabbed your arms and lead you to his car.

“let me go! why are you pulling me? i can walk by myself.”

ricky chuckled.

“you take way too long. get in the car, y/n.”

you put your seatbelt on as ricky started his ferrari. he immediately drove off, smoothly handling the car. you always knew ricky drove ruthlessly, so sitting in the passenger seat was like playing with fire.

as you expected, ricky swerved and swore at every car he drove past. scared he would lash out on you for asking him to slow down the car, you stayed quiet and played with with fingers until the car finally stopped.

“where are we?”

“you’ll see when we get inside, doll.”

ricky put his arms around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. you both walked inside the fancy place and you soon realised he brought you to a lavishly decorated restaurant. the place just screamed expensive.

as ricky confirmed your reservation, you couldn’t help but notice a woman giving you the death stare on the table opposite to the one you were currently seated at. ricky walked back and sat down, but you were too curious to let that incident slide.

“ricky, is that samantha over there?”

you pointed at the woman who gave you a nasty look earlier. ricky nodded. the corners of his mouth started to form a smirk.

“let me remind you, you’re only here to make her jealous. is that clear?”

without a warning, you smashed your lips against his. the taste of red-wine lingered in your mouth as you pulled away. ricky wasn’t the only one with a motive, you had one too. that was to make him fall in love with you.

ricky cleared his throat and chugged his glass of wine.

you could see his cheeks getting red, but that was apart of the plan.

if you were to get back at him, breaking his heart would be enough damage to make you satisfied

his loss.

[silly-inky]

Some Princess Luisa and fem Sunny love

I made a short story about how princess Luisa and fem Sunny met in this au (I made this last month but I only just got round to spell checking it) i made Sunny much more of a flirt in this. I did make some art to go along with it and that's after the writing

So Queenie ( Queen Boo) and Luisa are heading over to Delfino for a little vacation, they are mutually pining but neither have said anything yet. Peach, Dandy and Maria come with them but they arrive there with Queenie earlier than expected because of an earlier plane being delayed.

Luisa unfortunately missed this as she had to sort out a few things back at home before she could go, the others offered to wait but she thought it would be easier for them to go and get things sorted out so when she gets there there is no reason to fuss. It's not like she has a lot of luggage anyways, well she has a special suit case that can fit more than normal (curtsey of E.Gadd), not like she packs a ton but its good to have it all in one bag.

Now Luisa arrives there in the early afternoon (the others set off the previous day and got there in the night) and she looks lovely, she has a poofy long skirt/dress that's her signature green, she also has a sunhat, heals and vintage sunglasses with her suitcase in tow, she looks fabulous and everyone is noticing this gorgeous woman walking around the island, word makes it to the hotel before she even gets there about a gorgeous tall brunette with lovely long curls and a beautiful dress, she looks like she could be a princess or a model. (If you are curious on how she gets on the boat, she just takes her heals off then jumps)

When she finally arrives at the hotel she's a little flustered but still people can't help but stare. She apologizes to the man behind the front desk about being late as she had just missed the last boat and had to wait another half an hour before she could get to the hotel. This entire time the whole staff have been looking at her, one person in particular has already taken a particular liking to her.

As Luisa receives her room keys she goes to the lift (elevator) only to see it's out of order, with a heavy sigh she begins to pick up her suit case so she can drag it upstairs, then her knight in shining armor or appears as a very large woman approaches her, she has to be the tallest person she has ever seen besides Bowsette, she's chubby and surprisingly pale, she like many of the other islanders doesn't have a lot of clothing on, a pair of khaki shorts, a very large Hawaiian top left completely unbuttoned showing off her bikini top and the gold chain that hung around her neck, her hair was curly with a slight pink hue to it and her face wasn't too different to a Boo's apart from the difference in the eyes.

Luisa would be lying if she didn't find this mysterious woman.. Attractive.. but she was confused as to why she had approached her, so all she could really do was to stand there as she makes her way over to her. Standing next to her was a completely different feeling as usually having someone tower over you like this is a little intimidating, but she had a kind face and seemed to mean no harm.

"Hello ma'am, I'm sorry to disturb you an such a gorgeous day but I couldn't help but notice ya have some luggage with you that you need to take up to your room, is that right?" the Tall woman asked, her voice was calm and soothing, a little deeper than what she expected but not off putting in th slightest

"Ah! Well the lift here seems to be out of repair so I'm going to have to take the stairs unfortunately, i usually wouldn't mind but with heals and having to walk about so much today already I'm just having to mentally prepare myself" Luisa replied politely laughing a little at the end

"Oh there is no need for you to struggle darling I'll carry it for you, it's no trouble at all and you should take a rest" the Tall woman insisted

"If you wish, but please don't feel pressured into helping me Ms" Luisa said as she handed the suit case over to the other

"Of course, but what kind of hotel owner would I be if I didn't help out my guests! Shall we go? Ladies first " the Lady said as she picked up the suitcase with ease and gestured to the stairs

"Oh you are the owner! Oh well isn't that handy" Luisa said as she started to walk up the stairs

"I'm sorry I didn't catch your name?" the tall woman asked with a smile

"Oh of course! My name is Luisa, what is your name? " Luisa laughed a little

"Luisa? As in Princess Luisa? Oh well it's an honour to meet you, Queenie has been telling me all sorts about you! She told me you were beautiful, but her words don’t do justice to how truly stunning you are."

"Oh! Well thank you! you are too kind I don't deserve such praise. You know Queenie?" Luisa was a tad bit flustered but took the compliment in stride as she asked her question

"Well of course I do, if I'm not mistaken she brought you here to meet me sweetheart" the lady smirked a little in a teasing manner to fluster Luisa a little more

"Oh so you must be Sunny! Well it's a pleasure to meet you, i feel a little bad now since you invited us as guests and now you are having to carry my luggage" Luisa said cheerfully although still a bit flushed from the look Sunny gave her

“I told you before, I wanted to help, and I'd be a fool to not try and help a lovely little lady such as yourself, my name sounds so nice coming from you~ I'm a little jealous of how Queenie gets to spend all be time with you" Sunny said with a wink

"You are quite to flirt aren't you" Luisa didn't care to hide her cheeks at this point seeing as it only instigated sunny further

The two kept talking for another couple of minutes until they finally reached Luisa's room, she was sharing it with QB so she only had to knock. When Queenie came to the door she gave Luisa big hug and said how she was glad Luisa got here just fine, then she noticed her friend standing next to Luisa with her luggage in hand.

"Oh so you've already met Sunshine! How lovely, are you two getting along well?" Queen Boo asked as she took Luisa's luggage from her friend

"Are you kidding? We've already become besties! And how dare you not telling me how much of a cutie she was! The whole island is talking about her" Sunny pipes up before pinching QB's cheek a little

"Oh wow so she's already left quite the impression! Well I'm not surprised, and I did tell you she was a gem"

Luisa looked between the two becoming flustered again in the process

"Oh and she's such a delight to flirt with she looks so cute when her cheeks go red, you better be careful Q or I might steal her from you" Sunny says as she gives Luisa a knowing look

"Ha! I'd love to see you try! But I do agree, she's adorable when flustered" Queenie said

They were both joking and overall just acing like good friends, but there was the tiniest bit of tension between the two, like a silent rivalry sparking up, QB seemed to get just a little more protective of Luisa all of a sudden and didn't seem to want to back down.

This is going to be a long vacation for Luisa if things keep on like this

Art: (I couldn't be bothered erasing Luisa's legs, the skirt is not see through)

@brosif40 @spectrayus @skulls-soul

[strawwritesfic]

Joel x Female!Amputee!Reader: (Don't) Hold Your Breath [Ch. 6]

Summary: You’ve made a lot of monumental mistakes in your life. Cutting your arm off isn’t even at the top of the list. Now you’re about to learn a lot of life lessons at the hands of your savior and her brute of a guardian–and they’re not about to let you learn them the easy way either.

Challenge: "#32 in His Rulebook" by Edible Heart Monster on Lunaescence Archives

Rating/Warnings/Tags: M (post-The Last of Us; excessive swearing; sexual references; violence against children; infected children; references to abortion; references to cannibalism; references to starvation; references to riots; implied domestic abuse; implied grooming; implied sexual relationship between an adult and a minor; death of a parent; violence; gore; blood; gun use; ableism; amputee!Reader; enemies to lovers; not canon compliant)

Pairings/Relationships: Joel/Female!Reader; Tommy/Maria; Reader/Male!OC; Ellie & Reader; Ellie & Joel; Ellie & Maria & Tommy

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List (with important note!)

Rule #6: Don't piss off the locals.

Tommy’s warning did nothing to prepare for you for the chaos and violence of Jackson’s community dinner that evening. The earlier close shave involving an infected in the compound hadn’t done anything to improve anyone’s mood. Surely the evening meal didn’t typically involve so much shouting—or you assumed as much until you noticed a few of the looks some of the other citizens threw Joel as he led you deeper into the mess hall. You didn’t mention it to him, though, as you hurried in his wake before any of them could close ranks. No telling yet how they treated newbies in this place.

But Joel’s presence didn’t turn the noise level down at all. In fact, once he took a seat at the head table, the men bellowing at Tommy and Maria got louder. All this you mentally noted as you settled into one of the dwindling number of vacant seats at another long, plastic table nearby.

“Are you fucking kidding me with this?” one red-headed guy in need of a haircut bellowed. “And you’re supposed to be in charge around here?”

To both Tommy and Maria’s credit, neither appeared ruffled in the slightest by these antics. Maria looked bored and annoyed again. Tommy just eyed the group impassively, although you caught him throwing a few glances toward Joel, who was watching the whole affair through eyes so narrow you weren’t sure if he wasn’t actually napping instead.

“You expect us to stay when you’re gonna let riffraff in from all over? How the fuck are we supposed to settle down when it’s not any safer in here than out there?”

“We didn’t send out an open invitation, Charles,” Maria said, her voice flat and emotionless. “In fact, I don’t even remember inviting you.”

“You gonna let your bitch wife talk to me like that?” Charles demanded of Tommy. Tommy responded with a slight angling of his eyebrows—at last, a negative emotion! But before Tommy could tell Charles to shove it up his ass, Charles continued: “I don’t what you people are playing at here, acting like a damn family. That’s not how things work these days!”

“That’s how things work here,” Tommy answered. His voice sounded almost cold. “And if you don’t like that, leave now, and I’ll let you keep your head intact. ‘Cause trust me, if you say that about Maria one more time, I’ll shoot your damn brains out myself.”

“Ha,” Charles drawled, and several of the men around him tittered. Ugh, why was Tommy even bothering? You knew their type. You were their type. He should have shot Charles there and made an example of him. “As though you’d have the guts.”

Maybe if you had been in Jackson longer four hours, you might have cared to hear where the argument went. Maybe you should have anyway. Paying attention might have helped give you a better grasp of your hosts. After all, all you knew about Tommy was that he appeared genuinely pleasant, and all you knew about Maria was that she liked Ellie.

Everyone seemed to like Ellie. You wondered if Charles did, too.

But even that subject didn’t do much to maintain your interest. Lunch had been hours ago, and your first meal in days. Your five pieces of broccoli and cup of water hadn’t exactly filled you up. With your stomach cramping angrily every five seconds, it was difficult to concentrate on much of anything. Weren’t you in a fucking cafeteria? Why hadn’t Joel at least pointed you toward the food? It was not as though you cared about his family’s sordid affairs. You just wanted to eat.

Something clanked on to the table behind you. Blinking, you turned and spotted a tray with two small plates on it. You didn’t really have to look up to see who had brought it, but you did. Ellie flashed you a smile before she sat down and picked up one of the tiny bowls of what you could only assumed were canned peaches.

“So, what’d I miss?” she asked without preamble, her mouth still full of orange fruit.

You frowned at her, but then shrugged, too tired to bother arguing with or ignoring her at that moment. A slow breath blew out your nose before you answered, “There was a runner inside the walls, and everyone is pissed off about it and threatening to leave—or being told they had to leave unless they want shot.”

“No, I heard that.” Ellie rolled her eyes. “I’m not fucking deaf. What’d you have to do with it?”

“What makes you think I had something to do with it?”

She had to swallow her hard dinner roll hard before she could speak again. In the interim time, you snatched up your own piece of bread and practically inhaled it. If you didn’t get a move on dinner, Ellie would probably take yours again, the fucking brat. For the time being, however, she seemed preoccupied. Ellie nodded at your missing arm.

“Your bandages are clean.”

“So?”

“So you couldn’t do that by yourself, and Tommy and Maria have been pretty fucking busy fielding complaints since then.” She paused and her eyes flicked up to yours. “Joel wouldn’t’ve changed ‘em if you hadn’t earned it.”

Earned it? Stabbing a runner in the neck with a pair of fucking scissors Joel hadn’t wanted you stealing was earning having your bandages changed? Unless he’d wanted to clean your corpse off the infirmary floor as well, he had had to change the fucking things!

Ellie must have noticed your expression, because she rolled her eyes again before grabbing her last bowl, one of something that looked like stew. “So how’d you do it?”

You snorted as you gulped down your own slop. At least this meal didn’t require cutting things with knives. Hell, you didn’t even need to use a spoon. Just lift the rim to your lips, exactly the way Dad always told you not to. At least Hell on Earth had afforded you some benefits. When you finished eating, you licked your lips and eyed the peaches. Dessert was not one of those benefits life frequently handed you, but your stomach already felt full to bursting.

Your choice came down to eating them and feeling sick the rest of the evening, or giving them to Ellie. She was already eyeing them, her gaze darting between the bowl and your face. You had half a mind to swallow them in one gulp, but then she was just a kid. She was still growing and needed the food more than you did. Feeling annoyed with yourself, you pushed the bowl toward her and looked away so you wouldn’t have to watch her gobble them down. This did not prevent you from hearing her tiny squeal of surprised joy as she snatched the fruit away from you.

“Stabbed the runner a few times in the neck,” you answered casually.

Ellie dropped the empty plastic bowl with a clatter. “Hey, you killed something! With only one arm and everything!”

“Joel showed up and shot it,” you said, now with a sour note to your voice. Did she have to sound so fucking proud of you? So you stabbed it a few times, so what? That didn’t mean you could leave. That didn’t mean the next one wouldn’t manage to bite you. Besides, she was a kid, and had no business trying to encourage you.

You didn’t have time to tell Ellie as much, though. Just then, the fight between Charles’ gang and the Jackson leaders flared up so high that no one could ignore it. Ellie got quickly to her feet, having spotted Joel standing two inches in front of Charles and looking livid.

“Are you sayin’ you’re gonna start some kind of revolt?” he shouted.

“Well, I sure as hell am not leaving without a fight! This here is damn good property, and some of those hunters out there know where they can come trade. Why leave it to this pansy-ass runt to run into the ground?” Charles bellowed right back.

“You’re out of line.”

“What, they got you whipped, too, Joel? If I didn’t know better, I’d say that girl of yours has got you whipped. She must be pretty good in bed if you’re sticking around these digs for her.”

You heard Ellie’s sharp intake of breath. When you looked up at her, she’d gone white. Her fists shook. Before you could ask what the fuck that was all about, Joel made the angriest sound you’d heard from him yet. Then he tackled Charles to the ground and started pummeling every inch of him that he could reach.

Those around you all got to their feet and started shouting and jeering themselves. Ellie shoved her way through the crowd toward the continued sounds of brawling. You stood and followed her without thinking. When at last the two of you pushed through the swarm of teeming bodies, Tommy was dragging Joel off of Charles. Charles lay there on the ground, still conscious, but clearly not interested in prolonging the fight. His cronies soon crowded around him, swearing, until Maria leveled her gun at them without rising from her plastic seat.

“That’s enough,” she said coolly.

A few of the men shifted uncomfortably as she got off her chair and walked toward them until she came to a stop at Tommy’s side.

Charles sat up slowly and looked angrily up at the two of them. “But beating the shit out of me is okay, is it? You gonna kick him out, too?”

Tommy shook his head and pushed Joel behind him—or, rather, Joel let Tommy push him back. The look Joel leveled at Charles was one of purest venom; his shoulders continued to heave.

“No,” said Tommy. “I’d say that one was called for. Now, Charles, I really think you had better leave. And take your posse with you.”

Charles opened his mouth to retort, but Maria unlatched the safety on her gun, and he froze instantly.

“Now,” she said. “Anthony, Stephen, show them off, will you?”

Another man with a walkie-talkie on his hip broke free of the throng to heave Charles to his feet. As he did, a second showed up to help. With that done, he took out his revolver and gestured toward the door with his other hand. Although none of them looked happy about, all the men started to troop out.

What, were they fucking stupid? They still had their weapons on them. A group of four could easily kill their two bodyguards. If Charles was serious about start a rebellion, that’d be the way to do it. But after several tense minutes of silence, Tommy seemed to deem the situation is over and done with. He smiled at the remaining crowd, and then glanced over at Joel, who nodded once, whatever that meant.

“Well now, wasn’t that exciting?” Tommy asked. “How about we all discuss this like proper adults now, so none of the rest of you has to leave. Deal?”

“He was right,” you said loudly. “You need some fucking fungus detectors.”

Tommy paused, then turned just enough to spotted you standing next to Ellie. You didn’t stay there long. Now that all the attention was on you, you took several steps into the large circle around Tommy, Maria, and Joel.

“Now, [Name]. You’ve only been here for a few hours. You don’t really get a say in things ‘round here.”

“If I’m fucking stuck here, I fucking do. And you’d be a moron to ignore that guy. Frankly, I haven’t seen that you do have what it takes to be in charge here.”

“If you agree with him, I suppose you might as well follow after him.”

“Fine!” You threw your arm (and the remains of the other) into the air. You immediately wished you had not; that really fucking hurt. “Kick me out. Am I supposed to give a shit? I haven’t even been here a day, and I can tell this place is going to Hell. You think I want to stay here while you let in every person from here clear to what used to be Florida? Because I sure as fuck don’t!”

“And where would you be if Ellie hadn’t dragged you here?” he asked calmly.

“On my own, which I prefer.”

“You wouldn’t last a day out there without your arm.”

“Better dead trying to survive than getting eaten by an infected in a fucking infirmary. At least that way I can go out with some dignity. But if you want this place to survive, you need some fucking rules and regulations.”

“What you’re talking about is a Quarantine Zone.”

“Maybe that’s the only way we can fucking do things anymore. Did you ever think about that?”

Joel was standing right next to you, and until then, he’d simply watched. The minute those words were out of your mouth, though? He grabbed you roughly on the shoulder, bending slightly to growl in your ear:

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Can you try not to piss off the locals? I don’t believe you were invited to throw in your two cents here.”

“Fine. Then you do it.”

Joel scowled down at you, and in that silence, you could feel every eye in the room trained on your stump. What sort of conclusions they were making, you had no idea, but they couldn’t be good. If the general population found out Tommy had let you in when you’d admitted to getting bit, you wouldn’t give him or Maria more than day before they had a real riot on their hands.

“Joel?” Tommy said.

Joel let out something between a grumble and a snort. He looked pointedly away from Tommy as he answered, “They’re both right.”

The entire cafeteria erupted. You heard several distinct sounds of agreement—“How do we know it’s safer here? It’s probably less safe! Word is starting to get out!”—and plenty of disagreement—“We didn’t travel halfway across the damn country for another Zone!” After staring long and hard at Joel, you saw Tommy’s shoulders drop with a sigh.

“All right!” he shouted. “All right!”

But no one calmed down. Somehow, you’d managed to start the revolt Charles had been talking about—or so you thought, until Ellie rushed into the circle, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted:

“Everybody shut the fuck up!”

They did. Almost instantly. Tommy took a deep breath, then looked at her.

“Thanks, Ellie.”

“You’re welcome,” she said primly. Another deep breath, and Tommy started to walk around the edge of the open circle.

“Look, Joel and [Name]…and Charles have a point. But you all afraid of this becoming another Quarantine Zone also have a point. This isn’t a decision we can make right away. I say we take three days—” Joel inhaled. “Two days,” Tommy amended, “and then come back here and take a vote. We’ll decide what to do from there.”

He paused. No one argued. Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Tommy clapped twice and raised his voice:

“Dinner is over! Please be at your scheduled worksites by eight a.m. as usual tomorrow.”

The tension in your shoulders dissipated. Once you felt comfortable enough to look around, you did. Maria was watching Tommy, but, as usual, Ellie was watching you, her face unreadable. As the crowd dispersed, you made to follow, to get back to your bed. Unfortunately, the rest of the family group followed. Joel was the last to leave, and Tommy slammed the door shut behind him to get his attention.

“What?” Joel asked.

“Joel, Maria and I are very happy that you and Ellie decided to settle down here after that whole Firefly affair,” said Tommy, “but this is not your town. You ain’t in charge here, and you need to quit acting like you are.”

“Excuse me,” Joel said, firing up at once, “but that little incident a few hours ago could have infected the whole fucking place. Is that what you want for your little dream city, Tommy? Is it?”

“We both know that’s not the problem here. I know you just want to keep things safe for Ellie. That doesn’t change a damn thing. If we’re gonna have problem, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave—and have Ellie stay.”

An incredibly tense quiet followed those words. Joel seemed to grow taller and taller, until he towered above the rest of the group as he glowered down at Tommy. “Like hell you will.”

Tommy didn’t flinch. “That’s the deal.”

Suddenly, Ellie was right beside the two of them. Tommy looked at her, and she said, “Where Joel goes, I go.”

“I know, Ellie. But sometimes leaders gotta make the tough decisions.”

He left it at that. Without looking back, he and Maria walked off toward one of the guard stations. Joel watched them leave, looking upset. You couldn’t resist a dig of your own, now that you were well enough to manage it.

“What was that about not pissing off the locals?”

His eyes fell upon you. He watched for a moment, then:

“Shut up.”

And he trundled away in the opposite direction.

[vickyvicarious]

One thing I like about Mina also is that while she very much goes on and on and visibly blushes about how much stronger her husband has become (and honestly didn't we all. didn't we cheer when he got up on his feet and every part of him was in complete focus towards killing his abuser?), her praise for him wasn't reserved for when he got strong. She married him disabled, skin and bones, the dignified gaze she had loved about him now gone, waking up raving mad about demons and wolves and ghosts for a month. And she still kept talking about him as if she was talking about Prince Charming. (Because he always showed he was still the gentle and loving boy she had fallen in love with, under all the physical and mental changes.)

Yes, absolutely. Her letter about her husband is open about how weak he is and how he's a wreck and so on, and it's just as openly gushing and delighted to be his wife.

I feel that I can hardly recall anything of the journey, except that I knew I was coming to Jonathan, and, that as I should have to do some nursing, I had better get all the sleep I could.... I found my dear one, oh, so thin and pale and weak-looking. All the resolution has gone out of his dear eyes, and that quiet dignity which I told you was in his face has vanished. He is only a wreck of himself, and he does not remember anything that has happened to him for a long time past.

On reflection, one of my favorite lines is that bolded bit. Mina knew what she was going into. And rather than panicking over what could have happened to cause such a change, or worrying if she could handle it, or if he'd still be the man she loves, or any of that, her reaction is practical in such an absolutely loving way. She knows he's going to need nursing and care. Obviously she's going to dedicate all her energies towards that, and so she'll have to prepare by getting as much rest as she can now.

(There's also something to be said here about how excited Jonathan was to share his trip with Mina since she hasn't traveled, and how the first time she got to travel she ignored her surroundings completely in favor of him.)

They then decide to get married as soon as possible. In fact, Mina hunts Sister Agatha down to petition for an even earlier marriage after Jonathan entrusts her with the key to his trauma with the journal, and then is weak and needs to sleep again. It goes from him weakly collapsing to 'I'm waiting to hear if we can get married this afternoon' to 'we'll be married in an hour, or as soon as Jonathan wakes up'. Mention of Jonathan's illness/disability is tied to the wedding all the way through. They get married with him propped up in bed. The moment Mina says she's the happiest woman in the world comes right on the heels of Jonathan possibly being confused about time and Mina saying she expects him to have trouble even remembering what year it is:

Then he took my hand in his, and oh, Lucy, it was the first time he took his wife's hand, and said that it was the dearest thing in all the wide world, and that he would go through all the past again to win it, if need be. The poor dear meant to have said a part of the past, but he cannot think of time yet, and I shall not wonder if at first he mixes up not only the month, but the year. Well, my dear, what could I say? I could only tell him that I was the happiest woman in all the wide world, and that I had nothing to give him except myself, my life, and my trust, and that with these went my love and duty for all the days of my life. And, my dear, when he kissed me, and drew me to him with his poor weak hands, it was like a very solemn pledge between us....

It's absolutely undeniable that Mina is well aware of how Jonathan is weak and will be relying upon her very heavily. It's equally undeniable that she loves him and is completely willing to be his support. It's the same thing in her later letters and journals. She talks about his nightmares, his health being slow to return, his obvious stress only being compounded when he loses his father figure and is given lots of new responsibilities. And she admits it's hard. She tells Lucy keeping up her own cheer for his sake is wearing, and she has no one else to confide in. But she doesn't care, she would do it as long as necessary, because she loves Jonathan so much and she knows he loves her too. A lot of things have changed about him, but never that. Never who he is at his core. And that person is her Prince Charming. Sure, he cuts a fine figure with fury blazing in his eyes, strength recovered and then some, knife on his hip... She will obviously swoon over him then. But even in the worst of his recovery, the things he said to her clearly had her swooning then too.

It's not about what he does, it's about who he is. And he never stops being her Jonathan.

[thedeafprophet]

37.

Do I even have to say their names.

(Jamie and the princess)

37. Cleaning the other person’s lips with a lick and a kiss.

Spilling Over

"Have you decided you're going to stand there all night?" The Princess' words are lined with her amusement. “That certainly isn't the most enjoyable way to spend one’s evening, now is it?" Jamie raises an eye, and gestures out an arm as they speak."One mustn't presume where they are welcome when they're a guest. Farbeit for me to place myself somewhere before I've learned my cue."

I swear i was intending to keep these real short......

Word count: 1.5k

Relationship: The Captivating Princess/Original FL Character

Rating: teen (?)

Tags:  Alcohol, Kissing, Consent Issues, (just for the inclusion of drinking + the inherent questionability with the princess' powers)

Also on ao3

Prompt list from here.

It isn't the first time Jamie has been snuck through the corridors of the palace, quiet feet in silent halls, a hand gripped tight around their wrist as they're pulled along, with no one else around them but the servantry.  (At least directly present. Jamie was well aware of what lurked elsewhere, out of sight.)

They were well aware by now that it wouldn't be the last.

There was almost a level of enticement to it all; the secrecy, the dance of interactions, the whispers and the rumors, the hint of a scandal around every corner. They'd delight in it entirely, if it weren't for the cost that comes of such attention.

Tonight, it seems, The Princess was in one of her more daring moods, bringing Jamie back to her own chambers for the night, sneaking them away from a reception they had been attending. Jamie had begun mentally placing their bets on whether they'd be making it home that night, the minute their eyes met across the room, that familiar twinkle of interest shining in her eyes.  

And how could they ever say no to her, when she pulls them aside and whispers ever so sweetly in their ear that surely they could spend a moment with her now, can't they? She knows how busy they are, but surely they could make time for her? 

It didn't really matter she said, Jamie was always lost the minute they were within her grasp.

That is how they find themself here, standing in her chamber, awkwardly fiddling with their hands as one of her maids helps with the delicate layers of her dress. (Jamie can't help but blister at this - surely they could be the one to help, they could serve just as well - before they're able to shake the thought from their head.)

It is only when the remaining staff is sent away, the room prepared and formal wear discarded, the two of them, at last, are alone. There's a different kind of danger here, then the one among the public. A performance for one set of eyes rather than the endless expectations of the many. How one is expected to perform differs with each - but you will find the crowd no less demanding.

The Princess moves to sit on a lounging couch, her form now set in a gracefully frilled wrapper dress, a stark comparison to the evening gown she had been clad in earlier. Jamie's mind flickers to the one left hidden in the back of their own wardrobe at home - its design was a touch similar, a supposed 'present', one they only truly glanced upon in moments of weakness.

"Have you decided you're going to stand there all night?" The Princess' words are lined with her amusement. “That certainly isn't the most enjoyable way to spend one’s evening, now is it?"

Jamie raises an eye, and gestures out an arm as they speak."One mustn't presume where they are welcome when they're a guest. Farbeit for me to place myself somewhere before I’ve learned my cue." They force humour into their words, a smile onto their lips. 

I am confident and assured. I am not afraid here. They find twisted truths are easier to repeat aloud if you say them to yourself first.

"Funny," The Princess reaches for a glass on the table beside her, wine already having been poured for her, "I don't recall you keeping to that pretense before."

Jamie brushes right past the jab. "I'd hate to be known as someone who never learns their lesson."

That earns them a laugh. "Perhaps we shall see in time, won't we?" Her smile makes the hair on the back of their neck stick up, as she gestures a finger towards them. "Enough then, come sit."

They're moving automatically, coming to sit beside her on the couch, just as they were told. They settle down stiffly beside her, not knowing exactly what they are meant to do here, of what is expected from them now.  

The Princess sighs, before leaning up to tug at the edge of their jacket. “Surely you'd be more comfortable without it - I promise you won't get cold.”

The gesture was oddly intimate, as they relinquished and hung their suit jacket over the edge of the couch. Somehow feeling both inappropriate and oddly fitting for the state of their relationship, if it could even be called that.

Jamie knew set dressing when they saw it, but if this was the scene she wanted to set, then perhaps they should be honoured at being given a leading role.

They still sit awkwardly on the couch beside her, suspicious on where exactly this encounter was to go. Jamie had more than enough past experience to be on edge, but at the moment she seems to just... want to talk. Did she have no one else to talk to, or did she specifically want to talk to them? The question is but a flicker in their mind. 

A glass of wine is pressed into their hand, as The Princess moves onto the topic she had intended for the evening: gossiping to them on all the latest scandals she had witnessed, or had at least dragged the information out of others.

She leans close next to them to whisper the truly horrendous secrets she had learned into their ear, and goodness, had she much to say. It was a topic that flowed easily enough for Jamie, weighing their piece in the moments a response is expected of them, and even getting laughter from her when the topic strayed to people Jamie knew all too much about - and was inclined to make that clear. Dare they say it was almost fun, to spend an evening talking about the going ons they've both witnessed from the sidelines. 

Little bit little, Jamie relaxes into the setting, both the conversation and the wine easing them from their stiff position. They're not entirely sure how long the evening proceeds for, nor how much they drink, only the gentle buzz and tiredness settling over them. 

It only becomes a problem when late into the evening, Jamie moves to sip from the glass and, distracted in their listening, somehow manages to misjudge the tilt, most of it ending up on their face and neck rather than in their mouth. 

They blink in shock as they process the spill, embarrassment quickly settling into them. Of course Jamie has spilled things plenty of times before - but not like that, not in front of her. 

Jamie begins to stutter out an apology, how careless of them, they could've gotten it on her- But she simply tuts at their words, reaching to take the glass out of their hand and placing it delicately on the table beside her. 

She returns back to them in an instant, the full weight of her gaze settling over them. A hand comes to inspect their collar, surveying the damage. The spill was no grande mess, but red on white was always such a trial to get out.

"Oh dear, what a mess.” A gloveless hand comes to tilt their chin up, a sharp nailed finger brushing away at the liquid on their chin. “I sure hope that doesn't stain, it’d be a shame to ruin another shirt, wouldn't it?”

Jamie can feel their pulse rush, suddenly noting just how close she is to them, on how alone the two of them are. It was so hard to do anything but look at her, her radiant presence overwhelming both their thoughts and their physical feelings, brilliant blue eyes so close to looking directly into theirs. They can do nothing but stare, their eyes flickering briefly to her lips before realizing what they are doing. 

The Princess’ smile deepens, and Jamie’s heart flutters as she leans closer, from fear or from expectation they don't know. Both can be so tantalizing, in the right time and place.

“Well, I'm feeling ever so generous - perhaps I ought to help you get cleaned up, hm?” It's said as a question, as she moves right over Jamie, who in turn leans further back into the couch, practically lying back beneath her. It is most certainly not a question. 

Her mouth hovers just above theirs, Jamie’s eyes widening slightly as she moves to lick the remaining spilled wine off their lips, before pressing firmly against their own, hungry and demanding despite the demure softness presented. Jamie’s lips part almost on instinct, only a breath of air between them.  

Kissing back is a minimal effort - it comes so automatically, so naturally, just the dizzying inclination to lean into her force, moved fully by the ebb and flow she creates. It feels right, to lean back as she moves over them, a soft noise coming from their throat as they lean back against the couch. As if there was nowhere else they’d rather be - as if there was nowhere else to be.

All that mattered was her hands in their hair, the feel of her lips against theirs. Her presence everywhere, as Jamie finds themself entirely, utterly, lost within it.

[pumpkinbirth]

Build-A-Birth thing: 🤰🏽 1️⃣ 🏠 with the baby coming out much faster than expected. Thx in advance!

I leaned against my headboard, catching my breath again.

Despite what everyone told me about labor taking quite a bit of time, it felt like I was progressing fast, almost too fast. My contractions had only started earlier in the afternoon, and now, just a couple hours later, they were practically one after the other.

Its lucky that I was planning on a home birth in the first place, I thought, because now I was sure there's no way I'd be able to make it to a hospital in time. In the scant time between each intensifying contraction I managed to undress, setting up nearly every pillow I had at the head of my bed so I could comfortably lean back on them.

"H-hoohh, easy there..." I breathed, resting my hands atop my belly. Once again I felt it tightening as I stroked over the swell, and I finally let myself bear down just a bit, only wanting to relieve the pressure however I could. But soon I let out a shocked moan as I felt it, the incredible feeling of my baby's head already passing through my cervix.

"A-already...??" I moaned, feeling slightly panicked. My water hadn't even broken yet but it felt like I was about to give birth at any second now. I spread my thighs further apart, the cool air of my room giving temporary relief to my laboring cunt. By now I'd foregone the half pushes and decided to let my body do what it needed to, even if it felt far too soon.

It wasn't long before my efforts were rewarded, and I squealed with surprise as my water suddenly broke, soaking my bedding through. The pressure felt different now, and I placed a hand between my slick legs just in time to feel my baby already beginning to crown. Excitement rushed anew through me, and at the next opportunity I gave it all I had, pushing hard. If this baby wanted out right now, then I'd make it happen.

I braced myself against my headboard, trying to regulate my breaths as I felt myself stretching even wider to accommodate the shoulders. This was the part I'd been mentally preparing myself all week for, having thought I'd be stuck at this stage for hours. But instead, my progress only paused for a moment before I felt it turn, and I let out a final moan as my baby was born at last. As I brought it to my chest I glanced outside, huffing out a tired laugh. It wasn't even dark outside, yet.

[cinemaglow]

This isn't going to be very coherent I'm sorry. I'm not a Buck-Tick superfan. I very easily *could* be but I've held myself back since I don't really have the time and energy to invest and become voraciously obsessed with a band like when I was younger. I haven't listened to all their albums. I've only watched or read a few translated interviews. Idk why I feel like I have to preface this post like this. I guess it's just weird that this is the most profoundly affected I've been by a musician's death in years, and I don't even have the encyclopedic knowledge that I do for some other musicians to have built a parasocial relationship on. I think it speaks for the depths of the beauty that Sakurai contained, that even while maintaining a respectful distance and just catching a surface level glinpse of his inner life he was so, so compelling. And even though I never learned a lot about his personal life I feel a kinship with him.

There are a few bands that have changed my life, not just in a general sense but in specific, measurable ways. Buck-Tick is one of them. I've had treatment resistant depression for most of my life. In 2020 I was, not as actively suicidal as I have occasionally been, but just so so tired and hopeless. I couldn't imagine a future for myself and I was fully prepared to never get out of bed again until I starved and decomposed. Somebody shared a picture of Sakurai on tumblr. I don't remember who or why or what picture but I thought he was compelling and beautiful and me being always a slut for men with long hair I was like 👀👀👀 and that's what led me to Buck-Tick.

Discovering Buck-Tick in late 2020 convinced me to keep fighting for my life. In fact it was reading the translation of these particular lyrics that literally gave my an epiphany or an internal eucatastrophe, like something fundamentally changed in the workings of my brain and the trajectory of my life made a sharp turn:

Your living heartbeat in this world is ephemeral, but it’s beautiful

The living heartbeat of everything in this world is ephemeral, but even so it shines

Your living heartbeat in this world—there’s nothing sad at all

A person I love can live in this world—there’s nothing sad at all

It's honestly kind of cheesy that something can change your outlook so immediately but I remember distinctly realizing that living depressed and miserable is still being a living person and therefore an expression of the goodness and beauty in the universe. I sobbed. I felt truly glad to be alive for the first time in a long, long time. I posted as much on facebook, so you could actually go back and find the exact date it happened. Anyway. I accepted that even if I never get completely better it's still worth fighting to be a bit better. I started grad school. I've made it alive through a lot of rancid shit associated with grad school. I still feel an underlying current of hope and ?cosmic joy? even when my more immediate mental health takes a nosedive because my fundamental view of the world has changed.

People who are a lot more knowledgeable about Sakurai's personal life than I am are posting about how even though he struggled deeply all his life he always fought to live, to find the beauty inherent in living, and that mindset clearly came through in his words and music, because he transmitted it to me. He was so, so beautiful, his mind, voice, countenance, artistry.....he and the rest of the band gave me a blueprint for aging fabulously when I literally couldn't picture myself being middle aged. I think he did a good job, with everything. I kind of feel the same way now as I did when I found out about a friend's suicide earlier this year. Like, it's all okay for him, on his end. One of my spiritual beliefs is that death is a reward, a well earned rest after engaging in the Sacred Work of living. Even if it's a few decades earlier than expected Sakurai deserves to rest after all he's given and I'm happy for him. It's the rest of us that have lost something. It's like we have one less star in the sky. I kind of had a dream that maybe I could make so stage clothes for him one day but oh well.

I was up for several hours just kind of numb last night after I heard the news so I am going to get something to eat and go back to bed for a bit (being unemployed does come with privileges haha). I'm feeling a lot more at peace now than I was last night. Later on I'm going to take a shower and then paint my nails, which seems like the best thing I can do at the moment to honor him. And I'm going to keep living, and making beautiful gothy clothes, and putting more beauty out into the world and appreciating the beauty that is always there no matter what happens.