#a little cliche and unorthodox but his heart is in the right place

[pachinkofish]

bro is not vibing right now everyone needs to chill

[superbabetotherescue]

Thanks, Brucie-Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1840

Summary: You reminisce on your childhood with your best friend

Warnings: some violence, none really described in detail except reader getting punched in the face (as an alternative to getting teeth pulled), do teeth need their own warning bc they might, probably swearing but idk, kinda sad but don’t worry it’s fluffy, Bruce is a lil bitch but isn’t that kinda par for the course?

A/N: Once again this is just an old oneshot I have that I like a weird amount for no reason. You can read it as platonic or romantic it’s up to you idk but I’m lowkey thinking of making it into a series as platonic best friends so idk. I mean you’re reading it if you want it to be romantic that’s fine lmao I don’t care

Growing up one of Gotham’s elite may be a charmed life, but that didn’t mean that it was without its faults. You had spent your time being ignored by your parents, and your best friend, Bruce Wayne, became an orphan during a back alley robbery when the two of you were kids.

Or at least, former best friend.

In truth, you hadn’t seen Bruce in a while.

Well, you saw him constantly on the news and in the papers and just existing in Gotham in general, but you never got to see him face to face anymore.

Not for lack of trying, either. You sat down one night, the fifth time that Bruce had blown you off to meet for dinner in the past month, and pulled out your old photo album.

There was your fifth birthday party, a year or two after you had met Bruce in mega rich kid preschool, and there the two of you were, sharing a chair and staring at your huge birthday cake.

And the next picture, your favorite, the two of you covered in said birthday cake.

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

“Brucie,” You had cried,  whispering to him frantically, “Brucie, I got frosting on my dress!”

You were wearing a frilly pink dress that your mother had forced upon you, and in a moment of excitement you had leaned forward a little too far, and now the pale buttercream frosting covered your bodice.

“Uh oh,” Bruce breathed out slowly, adjusting his tie, pink to match your dress, and looking down at his own tiny three piece suit.

You were panicking, breathing heavily, “My mom is gonna be so mad!”

With a quick tug to your pigtails, Bruce shook his head, “I got this, Y/N.”

He reached forward and scooped a large chunk of the cake out, turning to you and smashing it against your chest quickly.

“Ah!” You jumped backwards, “Bruce!”

“Come on, hit me back,” Bruce hissed, grabbing another handful of cake and smushing it into your face.

As his plan dawned on you, you nodded, getting your own chunk of cake and throwing it at him, laughing delightedly as it landed in his hair.

“Bruce!” Mrs. Wayne scolded, running forward and crouching next to her son, who was currently trying to wrestle you, “You’re such a mess. Ms. Y/L/N, I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior!”

Your mother merely shook her head, smiling pleasantly, “Oh please, don’t worry about it, Martha. Those two are always getting into trouble.”

Victory!

You leaned over to your best friend with a wide grin, wrapping him in a tight hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

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

Flipping a few pages, you chuckled at what you saw.

Your face and Bruce’s fist matching in bloodiness, and a huge gap where your teeth were missing.

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

You were twelve years old, and you had five loose teeth. Your last five baby teeth. All in a row next to each other.

And, like most twelve year olds, you had a healthy fear of the dentist.

“They want me to go to the dentist tomorrow to get the teeth pulled!” You complained to Bruce, the two of you laying in his living room under the guise of studying.

He shrugged, “You just have to get them out before the dentist, right? Just keep wiggling.”

“I’ve been wiggling!” You sat up, shaking your head, “It’s not working. I need a new approach.  Maybe Alfred can make something sticky for me to eat and the teeth will get stuck in it. Like that toffee your-”

You froze, not looking at Bruce anymore.

His hand touched yours gently, and you turned to see a small, sad smile on his face, “Like the toffee my father used to make at Christmas? That would be good. But Alfred’s working on something, I think.”

Nodding, you hmm’d quietly to yourself for a moment, “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t let the dentist pull my teeth. I just can’t do it, Brucie.”

“Don’t call me Brucie,” He scowled, but you knew he didn’t really care.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, pushing your teeth back and forth with your tongue as the two of you thought.

“I have an idea,” Bruce stood, extending his hand out to you, “But it’s a little unorthodox.”

If he hadn’t been offering to help you, you would’ve rolled your eyes at the way he spoke.

You rose next to him, nodding, “Anything! Anything that keeps me out of the dentist’s chair.”

He took a breath, deep, slow, thoughtful. His hand reached out towards your face, thumb stroking your lips, palm cupping your jaw and cheek.

What was he doing?

And then he reared his fist back, and punched you in the face.

It hurt, that was for certain, but it was well concentrated in one place, and you coughed as you choked on the teeth, spitting them into your hand.

“There’s only four,” You frowned, counting them quickly.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” He held his fist back out, and you saw the fifth tooth embedded in his knuckle, “You can have it back.”

With a chuckle you plucked the tooth out and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

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

Alfred had a field day with that one, you remembered, but it was still better than going to the dentist.

With a few more flicks of pages, you felt your heart catch in your throat.

Prom night.

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

5:30.

Your date was supposed to come meet you at Wayne Manor at 5:30 so that you could go out with Bruce and his pretty blonde arm candy.

And now it was 6:45, and he still wasn’t there.

You’d been pacing the parlor of the Manor for two hours. Bruce and his date kept disappearing to make out in various rooms, and Alfred had stopped standing at the front door and had instead begun to busy himself in the kitchen.

And you were crying.

“Shit,” You hissed, wiping a tiny smear of eyeliner out from under your eye.

You weren’t going to cry over him. Especially not after you’d spent three hours on your makeup. You couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just leave her,” You heard The Blonde complain to Bruce in the next room over, “She’s totally bringing down the mood.”

“Hey, back off,” Bruce sighed, “She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her all alone on prom night. Maybe she can just come out with us.“

“I’m not spending my prom night with some loser who got stood up by her own date.”

You bit your lip, swallowing back a sob and then speaking loudly enough for them to know they were meant to hear you, “Hey, Bruce? I think I’m just gonna go, okay? Sorry for holding you guys up.”

“Wait,” Bruce opened the door to the closet he and his date were in, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, don’t go.”

The Blonde gasped indignantly, and you shook your head, “No, seriously Bruce, don’t worry about it. I’m just-”

“Don’t leave, Y/N,” He said again, and the solidness of his words, the complete authority in how he said it, was enough to freeze you, “I’m taking you to prom. You can’t leave me.”

What?

“What?” The Blonde shrieked, stomping her heel on the ground, “You’re not taking her, you’re taking me!”

Bruce gave her a rather pleasant smile, “Actually, I’m not. I think you’re a stone cold bitch and if I look at you for any longer than fifteen more seconds, I think I’ll vomit. Now get out of my house,” And with that, waving a dismissive hand at her, he turned to you and grinned, “Now, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of being my date to prom?”

A burst of energy running through you, you sprang forward and wrapped him up in a hug, “Absolutely. Thanks, Brucie.”

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

Closing your photo album, you sighed.

It felt like just yesterday in so many ways, and yet a million years ago.

What had happened between you two? What had you done to drive him away? Maybe a walk would clear your head.

You grabbed your keys and left, walking the streets of Gotham and thinking of your younger days.

There was a playground where you and Bruce would sometimes sneak off to play, halfway between both of your houses. It was where you had taught him how to throw a punch when you were six, where he had taught you how to cartwheel when you were eight, and where you two had shared your first kiss when you were ten.

You laughed at that memory too, wishing you had a picture in your album of that day, when the two of you had decided to be each other’s first kiss just so you’d know what you were getting yourselves into.

You’d sat on top of the monkey bars, staring into each other’s eyes as you came to your solemn decision, and leaned forward to give each other the briefest of pecks on the lips. And then you’d both fallen off the monkey bars, wiping your mouths and gagging dramatically.

Standing by those monkey bars, you ran your hands down the side with a smile.

And then you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into the back of your neck.

“Give me all your money, and get on your knees,” A dark voice growled.

Crap.

How could you let yourself be taken completely by surprise, in Gotham of all places?

Shaking, you tried to speak, your voice catching in your throat, “I… I don’t…”

“Hey!” A familiar voice sounded through the air, cutting you off, “Back off!”

You felt the  rounded metal leave your skin and let out a sigh of relief.

Spinning on your heel, you watched as your attacker, a large man with a ski mask pulled over his face, so cliche, got the crap beaten out of him by…

“Batman?” You gasped.

Of course!

Batman wrapped an arm around you, scoffing at the thug on the ground, and shot a grappling hook into the air.

As you felt yourself fly your head spun, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

So this was why he kept standing you up. Why he always came up with some flimsy excuse. He couldn’t just tell you he was the Batman, and besides, the mystery of it all was surely an ego thing for him.

You landed outside your house a moment later, the dark suit encompassing Batman just intimidating enough for you to almost take a step back as he rumbled, “You should be more careful. Especially at night.”

But you couldn’t take his warning seriously.

Your best friend wasn’t avoiding you, he didn’t hate you, he just had a secret!

You were too ecstatic to pay his advice any mind.

And so you simply wrapped him in a hug, your arms erupting into goosebumps against the cold armor that he wore, “Thanks, Brucie.”

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Hi there! We're changing things up a little this week :)

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Alright, post Book 1 but pre-Ethan fleeing to South America Ethan x Naomi coming right up! I feel like that time would have maximum tension because they’re trying to find their footing again after fucking the souls out of each other’s bodies and sending them into orbit, and lowkey falling in love sleeping together, while maintaining professionalism.

~v~

For Both:

When I first saw them, I thought__________

Naomi: I thought “thank God someone else is here!” I was in over my head with that patient, and I didn’t even notice that The Ethan Ramsey was the one assisting me until much later.

Ethan: I thought she had guts. You don’t see too many first day interns that are ready to jump into the fray like she did.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Naomi: He says Christ and any iteration of the word damn. Dammit, goddamn, goddammit, you get the gist.

Ethan: She says fuck.

Naomi: You’ve never heard me say that.

Ethan: She says fuck a lot, especially when she’s...*Ethan trails off and catches himself before he finishes that sentence. It’s a moot point all the same because now all he can think about is the young intern in front of him, hands pulling his hair, nails raking down his back, moaning the obscenity into his ear, into his pillows. He awkwardly clears his throat* Just trust me, I’ve heard her say it. Multiple times.

*and now he’s mad at himself*

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Naomi: Blue. They’re kinda hard to miss.

Ethan: Her eyes are brown.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Naomi: He hates everyone, except for me and Naveen.

Ethan: Except for you? You think pretty highly of yourself, Rookie.

Naomi: Am I wrong? *Ethan doesn’t deny it, instead staying silent and Naomi smirks* Exactly

Ethan: I don’t think she dislikes anyone. I’ve never met a person like her, she makes friends with everyone.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Naomi: He fiddles with his glasses a lot.

Ethan: She’s constantly biting her lip, especially when she’s really focused.

*she’s actually surprised that he picked up on that* Naomi: You notice that?

Ethan: I notice everything...about everything. It’s the nature of the job.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

*they both share an awkward glance before looking away and declining to answer*

Never Have I Ever...

Come into work hungover

Ethan: When I was younger, yes. But now that I’m older, I know my limits.

Naomi: No, because I don’t get hangovers due to my magical hangover cure.

Ethan: That god-awful drink is...surprisingly effective.

*the interviewer asks Ethan to elaborate on the time Naomi gave him whatever her hangover cure is, and he adamantly refuses*

Had a fistfight

Naomi: Yes, but in my defense I was drunk.

Ethan: *snorts* How is that a defense?

Naomi: I’m the daughter of an attorney, I usually try to resolve my issues with my words. But drunk Naomi is a little feistier.

Ethan: You mean you have a level of feistiness that I’ve yet to see?

Naomi: Oh yeah. Anyway, I was in college, I was drunk at a bar, someone spilled a drink on me, and it escalated. I think I broke her nose.

Ethan: An arrest record wasn’t on your file when we hired you.

Naomi: Like I said, I’m the daughter of an attorney, and the granddaughter of a DC judge. That has its perks.

Ethan: Yes, I’ve gotten into a fist fight before. I punched Nash in the face. And before that, i fought my old med school roommate.

Naomi: Ooh, what did he do?

Ethan: That’s not a story I’d ever divulge while sober.

Been kicked out of a bar

Naomi: Yes. Circle back to the previous question.

Ethan: No, because I’m an adult.

Gotten a tattoo

Ethan: Absolutely not

Naomi: I have a tattoo of the Cancer symbol on my left hip. It’s my zodiac sign.

*this stuns Ethan into silence because he’s seen her naked on more than one occasion and been...very well acquainted with the body parts below her waist, and for the life of him cannot remember a tattoo*

Broken someone’s heart

Naomi: No. At least, I don’t think so. I’ve had my heart broken, if that counts.

Ethan: Same as Naomi. I don’t think I have.

*they make a pointed effort to not make eye contact with each other, and Naomi bites down on her lip, letting the silence hang in the air. The alternative would be informing Ethan that he has indeed broken someone’s heart, and that just won’t do.*

Been in love

Naomi: I don’t know. Maybe? I thought I was in love with my med school boyfriend, but now that time has passed, I know that wasn’t love. At least, not the good kind. And there was a near miss after him, but nothing came out of it. The emotions were a lot stronger the second time around though, and i think it’s the closest I’ve come to it this far. I’m a hopeless romantic, so I hope I find it someday.

Ethan: No. Call me a cynic, but I just don’t see love as something that’s feasible and attainable. Putting that much trust and dependency in another person is not realistic.

For Naomi (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Naomi: I don’t know what’s left for a man like Ethan Ramsey. He’s already done so much in the field of medicine, unless he reinvents the entire wheel and turns it upside down, which I can see him doing. I can see him writing more, publishing more research, and of course winning more awards. If he wasn’t so anti-administration, he could be running this place. Or maybe he’ll start his own non-profit.

Naomi: As far as his personal life, I don’t know. You heard loud and clear that he doesn’t really believe in love. I hope one day he changes his mind or finds a companion, because underneath his extremely prickly exterior, he’s one of the best men I know and he has a heart of gold. He deserves the chance to let someone take care of it for him.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Naomi: From afar, Ethan seems very larger than life, but I think the most impressive thing about him is his dedication to not just medicine, but his patients. I’ve never seen him not go above and beyond for someone he was treating.

Last thing he texted you?

Naomi: “Please consult Diana in HR regarding your official diagnostic team fellowship application. I know this year has been unorthodox to say the least, but there are still some steps that must be taken before the start of your second year. Thank you.”

Naomi: I’ve never received a text message that long.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

*her cheeks heat up furiously and she pulls her bottom between her teeth before answering, her eyes bright and watery*

Naomi: Am I a total glutton for pain for saying I’d jump at the chance?

For Ethan (Naomi is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Dr. Valentine has so much potential and she’s going to be one of the greats. She’s going to be running the diagnostics team if she chooses to stay at Edenbrook, and I can’t see Naveen not trying to keep her here. She’s going to win awards, have awards named after her, publish research, lead trials, whatever. I hate to sound banal and cliche, but the sky really is the limit for her. I chose her for a reason, and I plan her helping her reach all of that potential.

Ethan: As for her personal life, I don’t know. Hopefully she finds someone that’s good enough for her.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: A-attractive? *the word comes out in a squeak, but he coughs to cover it up* Why on earth would you assume that I’m attracted to her?

*he goes on a ridiculously long tangent about how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your coworkers, especially your subordinates, and how he would never jeopardize Naomi’s career on something as trivial as attraction, and anyone with an ounce of common sense can tell that he doth protest too much*

Ethan: But if I absolutely had to pick something besides her good looks, it’d be her spirit. She’s warm and empathetic and optimistic, and I’ve never seen someone care as much as she does.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: “👍” I sent her a message about her upcoming fellowship and she sent back a thumbs up. Just that. I was a little annoyed.

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: As um...flattering as that might be, I would say no. I am an attending, she’s an intern, my soon to be fellow. That is crossing too many ethical lines, lines I refuse to breach.

Ethan: And I would say no because Naomi is...just a good person. And maybe I’m being biased, but I don’t know if anyone will ever be truly worthy of her. But I can say without a shadow of a doubt that she deserves so much better than me or what I could give her.

[dresupi]

Fidelity - Hermione/Oliver/Percy

for @thestanceyg​ Hermione Granger/Oliver Wood/Percy Weasley Song: Fidelity by Regina Spektor 1,953 words Rated T

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

Sighing heavily, Hermione stopped outside Percy and Oliver’s flat to compose herself. The fact that she was going to use the door instead of the Floo to visit would be jarring enough, she didn’t have to look like a desperate sad sack on top of it.

Even though she was. Or thought she was. Or by all rights, should have been.

It was true that her ill-fated relationship with Blaise wasn’t something she actively mourned in and of itself. Blaise was nice enough a bloke, and he treated her well. But everything he’d said to her that afternoon was true.

There was no passion. They’d gone from dating, to shagging, to a passionless pair in less than two months. And perhaps that was the crux of it. Hermione knew that all the men she dated assumed she’d be passionate. And she just… wasn’t.

It was a tremendous amount of work, between learning how to navigate the sheets of a new bed and the inevitable break up, she ran herself ragged doing all the things she was supposed to do. Running down a veritable checklist, as it were.

What she truly mourned was the sense of normalcy she got when she was able to finish that checklist and actually be with someone. She didn’t like being alone, she loved being able to have another she could go to for everything. And it wasn’t that the shagging was awful. It wasn’t. In fact, especially with Blaise, it had been rather… lovely.

But he was right.

It had gone the way of all her relationships. And now, she had to go to meet the men who had become her best friends for a double date, when she herself was dateless.

And a bit sad-looking. A rather large raindrop splatted on her forehead. She was also soaking wet. Lovely. Hermione knocked on the door and waited there, looking up and wishing like hell that it wasn’t raining.

This entire ordeal had turned into a bit of a cliche. Perhaps she should have just canceled. It was a little late for that now that she’d already knocked, however.

The door creaked open and Percy stood on the other side of it, his hand raising to his face to push his glasses up his nose. “Mione?” he asked.

And given that she likely looked like a drowned rat because she’d forgotten to cast an umbrella charm before hurrying out into the rain, it didn’t surprise her that he was skeptical of the hag standing before him.

He had on a bright green jumper that accented his hair. The apartment looked bright and inviting. A complete contrast to the grey sludge that currently surrounded her.

“Yes, it’s me,” she sighed. “I’ll dry off before coming in.”

She quickly cast a drying charm, which only served to cause her hair to poof up all the more. But she couldn’t really be bothered to care at present.

“Merlin’s beard, you let yourself get soaked to the skin. Come in where it’s warm, darling.” Her heart lurched at the term of endearment. Godric, she loved it when Percy called her that.

Oh, and that was the other unfortunate truth in this entire terrible situation. Her relationships never worked because she was madly, stupidly, irrevocably in love with her two best friends. Who just so happened to be madly, stupidly, irrevocably in love with each other. Which made her the odd one out. The third wheel. The company to the couple.

She blew a stray curl out of her face.“I’m fine,” she insisted, sending her cloak and scarf to the hall tree and making her way further into the cozy apartment.

Oliver was seated at the end of the table, looking through the Daily Prophet’s sports page.

“Oy, Hermione,” he called, grinning over at her. “I was expecting you to come in through the Floo, love.”

Her heart practically beat out of her chest. She was bad off.

She laughed humourlessly. “There was a change in my afternoon plans and I haven’t been home.”

“You came straight from work?” Percy asked. “You want, you could go freshen up before Blaise gets here.”

She sighed again. It was probably best to just rip the plaster off the wound quickly.

“Aye, that’s why I was running late. I was having a row with Blaise,” she admitted, plopping down in one of the chairs. “And we’ve decided to call things off. Mutually. And permanently.”

“Mutually, huh?” Percy asked from the kitchen. “You sure it wasn’t you who dumped his ass to the curb for the way he ogled that serving witch last weekend?”

Hermione smirked.  It wasn’t, but come to think of it, that was likely Blaise’s reason for dumping her. Not the serving witch, but another woman. She found the knowledge didn’t really bother her. “No, nothing like that. We just came to the conclusion that we weren’t feeling it anymore. Or ever.” She shrugged and placed both her palms on the table. “What’s a witch gotta do to get a drink around here?”

She was well aware of the look Oliver shot Percy. One where he tilted his head towards her and widened his eyes expectantly. She couldn’t see Percy, but she could imagine he was shaking his head just as rapidly in opposition, given how Oliver’s face was becoming more cartoonish by the second.

“Look, if you’ve got a friend to set me up with, might as well let me have it. I’m not heartbroken over Blaise, so--”

They were both silent for a long moment before Oliver broke the silence.

“One of my best blokes is head over heels for ya,” Oliver replied suddenly.

There was a crash in the kitchen as Percy dropped a glass. “I’m fine,” he called, whispering a spell to send the glass to the bin. “Didn’t like those glasses anyway.”

“Your best bloke, eh?” Hermione propped her chin on her hands. “Do tell.”

“Well, he’s a bit bookish, so I think you’d like him. You two would have loads to talk about.”

She huffed out an actual laugh. “Bookish? Which of your friends are bookish, Oliver?”

“Oy,” he protested. “I’ve got plenty of friends who are bookish, I’ll have you know.”

Save herself and Percy, she couldn’t think of another. She rolled her eyes. “What’s this fictional bloke’s name, pray tell?”

“No,” Percy called from the kitchen. “I’ve got a better idea. One of my friends, he’s a bit into Quidditch. A bit more than the average Wix, but you dated Viktor Krum, so that’ll be no problem right?”

Oliver had gone pale as he glared over at Percy.

“Come now,” Hermione laughed. “I’m sure I’ll have the opportunity to strike out with both of them. Set up the dates.”

“I think it’d be better if you--” Oliver began, only to have a glass of wine slide in front of him and cut him off.

“If you dated both at once,” Percy finished for him.

“At once?” Hermione laughed and held her hand out for a glass to slide into it. She took a sip of the wine before continuing. “Do I look like someone who could do that? Juggle two wizards?”

“Or you could, I dunno… not juggle them,” Oliver offered.

She frowned as Percy sat down beside her. “You’re not making sense, Oliver.”

“You’re not, perhaps you should come clean,” Percy said softly.

“My bookish friend… he’s someone you know,” Oliver began.

“You know my Quidditch-infatuated mate as well,” Percy added.

Perhaps it was the few sips of wine she’d already had, but she couldn’t for the life of her guess to whom they were referring. Hermione took a long sip from her wine glass. “Who are they?”

Oliver and Percy exchanged looks and then looked back at her.

Hermione was the brightest witch of her year, but even she was slow on the uptake sometimes.

But when she did catch up, it usually happened all at once and knocked her on her arse.

Like just now, for instance.

The glass slipped from her hand and Percy was quick to stop it falling and float it back to the table.

“The bookish one’s you,” she said, looking at Percy. “And the Quidditchy one…” she turned to Oliver.

“I know it’s unorthodox… having two beaux,” Percy began. “But allow me to list some pros of this situation. Now, if you ever got bored, you have two different blokes to choose between. And if you’re tired, two pairs of hands can rub both your feet at once.”

“Would I… date you one after the other or both at once or--”

“Whatever you like,” Oliver replied, smiling a bit and making Hermione go weak in the knees.  Even though she was sitting down.

Thank Merlin she was sitting down.

Because if she wasn’t, she’d have fallen and hit her head and probably not remembered the most wonderful day of her life.

“But you’re… together already,” she said, pointing between the two of them.

“Yes, but surely you’ve heard of a little thing called polyamory,” Percy replied, smiling dryly.

“Yes, but I never thought it’d be something I’d be considering. More than considering. I want to dive in headfirst, but I need to know… “ she trailed off.

They looked at her expectantly, both of their hands sliding forward to take one of hers.

“How would…” she trailed off and pointed between the three of them. “How would it work?”

She’d thought about this a lot, but had always drawn a blank when it came to more intimate matters. Would all three of them… at once or--

“Now, we’ve talked about this extensively…” Oliver admitted. “But we would be up for anything you’re comfortable with.”

“Not exactly making this easy for me, are you?” she asked, laughing a bit and focusing on both their hands clasped around hers.

“On the contrary, I think we’re making it very easy for you,” Oliver murmured. “It’s us you’ve left in the lurch.”

“Oh, Godric, I’m sorry!” she squeezed both their hands. “Yes, yes, I would love to… there are just logistics that need to be… but we can do that together, yeah?”

It took them a second to respond, but it was Percy who made the first move. Leaning over and nuzzling the side of her face until she turned and his lips found hers. The kiss was deep, all-encompassing. And it made her face flush hot. Hotter when the tip of his tongue grazed her bottom lip.

He broke off the kiss before she was ready, but it was only to be tugged toward Oliver. Up to her feet and out of the chair as his strong arms wound around her waist, bowing her back slightly as he kissed her as well.

His kiss took her breath away. Literally stole it from her lungs. Perhaps because she still hadn’t quite registered that this was happening.

“Merlin,” she sighed when he ended the kiss.

“Sofa?” Percy asked.

“Yes, please,” she murmured, allowing herself to be led further into the bright apartment, the fire int he fireplace warming her skin as she followed Percy to the sofa.

Sandwiched between the two of them, she began the most fun research project of her life. Rather than sticking to that ill-conceived list in her head, she simply did what she wanted. To whomever she wanted. And when she tossed that checklist out the figurative window, she discovered there was no shortage of passion locked inside her when properly coaxed out.

It had never been like this before. It was a bit heady knowing that she’d been missing so much.

But she could either mope about it or play catch-up. The latter seemed like much more fun.

Want one of your own?

[unsent-voicemail]

[Part 3] thank u, next (Marvel!Chrises x Female! Reader)

One taught me pain.

warnings: rpf, angst, cliche as fuck

* What probably pushed me to finally write this is the fact that it took me a damned year to complete the series! Plans don’t always go the way you pictured them in your head, no? * This is the last part (well, technically not as I’m planning an epilogue) & I’m so excited to move onto my next series! * Comments & feedback are welcomed! They sure help me improve and find out what kind of stuff to write next.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2

Mustering all the emotional strength she had left, she opened up the book knowing that there was thankfully one last entry left. The thought of how tacky it was of her to reminisce about her exes on her wedding day reentered her mind, but she thought that since she’s already started, she might as well finish it. Moreover, it’s not like anyone would find out, and she didn’t plan on telling anybody

With a bit more confidence, her fingers danced across the scrapbook and skipped over to the last entry. Upon drinking in what the page contained, she felt a pang as bittersweet as the relationship she was reminded of nip at her heart. Trying to smile through her frown, she ran a finger through the photograph pasted on the page, lightly and mindlessly chuckling at how childishly lovestruck she looked for someone who was a self-proclaimed “grown woman”.

She noted how she looked pretty good with the sun’s gentle rays highlighting the best points of her face as it contrasted with the colors of the beach, but she couldn’t help but pay more attention to the man who had her in a tight bear hug, flashing the camera a breath-taking smile as his eyes that rivaled the color of the ocean seemingly pierced through the photograph.

––

At that point in her life, she never thought she’d call another man the “love of her life” ever again after doing so twice (and proving herself to be horribly wrong about it– twice.). It was childish and way too idealistic, and she was done with that. She was a working woman now, therefore her priorities were different, and so were her interests. At that point, it was all about establishing her career and getting money.

It was miraculous how her friends able to drag her out for a quick weekend trip to beach given that her life was spent either holed up in her office cubicle or passed out on her ratty couch in front of the TV.  While she spent the entire trip grumbling on how much tasks she has on hold, she was secretly thankful that she went; she needed some time away from the hectic career-woman life she was living along as she temporarily escaped from it with an ice-cold margarita. Moreover, she needed to start dating again.

Lucky for her, she found just what she needed when she met Chris Hemsworth.

She wasn’t quite sure if her good friends “coincidentally” brought a couple friends a long, but she was glad they did, especially since Chris was absolutely handsome and had an amazing personality to match. She didn’t realize it, but her uptight self loosened up almost immediately with the way Chris brought life into their little get-together; he wasn’t the well-planned, organized man she usually looked for, but she didn’t mind it at all– his spontaneity and free spirit was just like a breath of fresh air. Her friends noticed how well they clicked in spite of the differences, but didn’t dare to make fun of them or say anything as they were in favor of things going well and they haven’t seen her so comfortable with a man in a while– it was as if the bland, couch potato of their friend did a complete 180 right before their eyes.

She and Chris were so caught up in the fun they were having that they didn’t notice how fast time flew by, and before they could register it, it was time to go home. With heavy bags and even heavier hearts, they said their goodbyes with a rather awkward, tense hug that had their hearts wildly beating in their chests. She hated the fact that her carefree, fun persona was more temporary than she had realized, and she was only a 2-hour drive away from the boring, all-work-and-no-play persona she had grown accustomed to.

To her surprise, Chris was seriously interested in her, and was persistent in keeping in touch. Perhaps, her effortless wit and gentle nature had him yearning for more of her, or it could simply be the fact that she was just absolutely beautiful inside and out. Either way, Chris found himself wanting to open his eyes to her text messages and fall asleep to the sound of her hushed voice over the phone. In spite of a great distance between them (with him living on one side of town while she lived on the opposite side), he felt a special connection bring them closer and closer each day. He vowed that in spite of them living different lives in different places, he’ll make sure that they keep in touch knowing that what they had over the short vacation was not all that was in store for them.

It didn’t take long before the both of them started wanting to be more than just friends, finding themselves yearning for each other when they couldn’t text or talk to each other on the phone, and feeling a warm giddiness course through them when they did. Though it took them quite a while to come to terms and believe in such desire, they eventually did, knowing that they couldn’t fight it anymore. In spite of the physical distance, the mutual feelings that couldn’t be suppressed any longer were soon made known through their respective confessions, and they started dating immediately after that.

Caught up in a seemingly whirlwind romance, they didn’t realize how quickly they were moving. Lost in the fresh spontaneity Chris brought into her life, they didn’t realize that they had done a lot more in a short amount of time compared to average relationships. She wasn’t thinking about foresight or planning at that point– she was in love, and that was all that mattered. In spite of the people suggesting that perhaps they should get to know each other better, they carried on doing what they pleased in the relationship. To them, as long as they made each other happy and it felt right, they didn’t need more.

Thinking back, they wished they knew better and actually listened.

After a month and a half of dating, she agreed to let Chris move in with her. His job was home-based, anyway, and she felt like her apartment was becoming a little too empty and quiet. The decision was raw and hasty, but to them, it proved to be the best decision as they basked in the domestic comfort that was now present in their relationship.

Chris has never felt that certain way about a woman before– it was new, fresh, and exciting. There was finally some sense of stability and order in his life as she hadn’t completely shaken off the uptight, perfectionist planner in her. He found himself completely enamored by the image of her flittering about the house just to get things in order– getting breakfast sorted before she left for work, rocking out to the biggest hits of her teenage years as they cleaned the house on weekends, and making the house all presentable and pretty for dinner. He can’t recall when he started feeling like he wanted to settle down, but the feeling grew stronger each time he saw her become more and more wife-like.

“Let’s get married.” Chris said abruptly in the middle of their Thursday dinner weeks after realizing his craving for permanent domesticity with her, making her drop her utensils in shock. “Marry me.” his voice was full of conviction, reaffirming her that he knew what he said as she seemed to be baffled with the way she asked him to repeat himself. She was speechless as her jaw hung open, then she started laughing heartily, not of mockery, but one of pleased surprise that filled Chris’ ears like a class piano melody. She didn’t expect him to ever be interested in settling down, but then again, when it came to him, there were no expectations.

“Sure.” was her simply reply, grinning from ear to ear as she looked at him with so much love and adoration. A million thoughts were racing through her mind, but all of them had to common denominator of how much she was excited to spend her life with him. While she always dreamed of a traditional down-on-one-knee proposal leading to a white picket fence, classic movie marriage, she was willing to give it up for the adventure of an unorthodox marriage she knew she’d have with Chris following his very unorthodox proposal.

Despite the lack of a rock on her ring finger (Chris said it didn’t define his determination to marry her and he wanted it to be a wedding day surprise), she seemingly made a million plans all at once in excitement. The list of guests got longer and longer, and each of those invited, especially her parents, questioned her confidence in getting into something huge with somebody she’s known for less than a year. Met with a snappy answer of how they don’t know the entire story, and that they could either deal with her or feel free to not show up, they backed off and apologized in an attempt to appease her, thinking that the it was just the planning stress getting to her. Unbeknownst to them, it was the underlying stress and embarrassment of how they might actually be right that was biting at her.

As the plans got grander and the ideas got more ambitious, Chris started to think about what he was getting into. He was a simple man, and if it were up to him, he would have just taken her to the city hall the same night he expressed his desire to marry her. He had never envisioned himself as the type to settle down as he seemed to “itch” if he were in one place for too long, leading the people who really knew him to ask if he was sure and if he perhaps meant to say something else. Such questions made him stop and think, and maybe even want to put the whole thing on pause, but whenever he saw how full of life the woman he loved was as she brought the wedding plans into fruition, he shook off whatever doubt he had and reassured himself that he surely wanted what he was getting into.

Several decisions, breakdowns, screaming matches with the organizers, and fittings later, the day of the wedding finally came, and she could not be more relieved that she was over all the planning bullshit. All she had to do that day was seal the deal and spend forever with the man of her dreams. The mere thought of it had her pacing back and forth with excitement and a hint of nervousness as she sweat profusely that she didn’t even realize that her mother had been trying to snap her out of her trance to tell her that she got a text message from Chris. With shaking hands, she took the cellphone from her mother and hastily read the text, immediately wishing she didn’t.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” was all the message contained, but it more than enough for her to let out a pained sob as she collapsed to the floor, shaking and heaving as everyone around her panicked and tried to console her.

From then on, there was nothing but pain.

Everything she smelled, touched, saw, heard, and tasted seemed to be full of agonizing pain.

Chris knew that she would be hurt, but the damage was done; he had already sent the text, and he was absolutely sure that everything had gone to shit at the moment. While he knew he wasn’t the most confrontational man in the world, he didn’t expect himself to be such a coward with the way he couldn’t even tell her personally that his cold feet were getting the best of him, and that he wanted to take a step back. He didn’t know if it was the seemingly endless amount of people, or the fact that he was about to undertake a huge, serious responsibility that would bind him for life, but either way, he was scared out of his wits and wanted out.

As he sat in his crisp, new tuxedo, staring blankly at the wall, he tried to think of what was next, but nothing was crossing his mind. For once, he wish he had a plan.

She, on the other hand, started to feel her old rigidly-stick-to-the-plan self make an appearance as she carried on with going to the honeymoon. She and Chris were to spend two weeks at the beach resort where they first met, reliving nostalgic memories as they created new ones, but that wasn’t possible now that she showed up to the front desk alone; her make-up was smudged, her elaborate hairdo was disheveled from the number of times she ran her hands through it, and her wedding dress was horribly wrinkled. She briefly caught how pathetic and pitiful she looked in one of the resort lobby’s mirrors, but that was the least of her problems at the moment.

Right now, what was important to her was handling the pain mercilessly coursing through her body, most especially since she had been derailed from her seemingly perfect plan and had to improvise.

Above all, she had to heal from the pain.

––

She wasn’t sure how long she held her breath, but it seemed like she held it as she recalled every last detail of the whirlwind romance that took a turn for the worst. It was surprising, but she neither felt even a tinge of pain nor bitterness towards her ex-lover all throughout– she had completely moved on, and perhaps, she had forgiven him for something she deemed unforgivable at one point. She hasn’t heard of him since that cold, fateful day, and she was sure that if she did while the internal wound was fresh, she would have cursed him out to the ends of the earth, but if she were to get the chance to speak to him at that exact moment, she would be unexpectedly magnanimous and even appreciative.

Exhaling deeply and smiling upon that realization, she mentally thanked Chris Hemsworth, wherever he may be on the globe and in life, knowing that the pain had thickened her skin and gave her a multitude of life lessons she would take with her for the rest of her life.

[arcaneranger]

Final Thoughts - Netflix Exclusives 2018

Oh my god you guys, I’m finally done. I’m free from the prison of 2018, just in time to actually finish my premieres for spring of 2019. But first, let’s talk!

2018 was the year that Netflix really went all-in on producing its own anime and picking up some big names, so we saw Devilman Crybaby made specifically for the service and high-profile shows like Dragon Pilot and Hi-Score Girl basically hijacked by the streaming service and delayed for months in the U.S. so that the biggest name in the game could release everything in bingeable packages. Unfortunately, bringing in an auteur like Masaaki Yuasa for Crybaby and throwing all the damn money at him worked so well that, long before any of these shows would even premiere, they decided to seemingly take any anime pitch under the sun, and wound up financing disasters like Hero Mask and B: The Beginning. Really, these shows kind of run the full gamut from garbage to god-tier, with an unfortunate tipping of the scale in the wrong direction. I haven’t gotten to see Ingress yet at the time of publication though, so we’ll have to see whether 2019 will start in a good direction.

ANYWAY.

DROPPED

WORST OF NETFLIX: Back Street Girls -GOKUDOLS-

I still don’t get how anyone thought this was worth promoting. The entire concept is offensive, and yet it was directed by a master and veteran of the medium (who is also a woman), leading me to just throw my hands in the air and resign myself to never having a satisfactory answer for why Netflix would pick this up to begin with. Dropped after 1 episode.

Hero Mask

One of the most incompetently written first episodes I’ve ever seen gave me absolutely no hope that Hero Mask was going to actualize into anything watchable or even average-looking. It was boring and unintelligible. Dropped after 1 episode.

Fate/EXTRA: Last Encore

What the fuck was Akiyuki Shinbo even doing on Fate? Did he do this at the expense of season 3 of March comes in like a lion or something? Probably not, but geez... This seems much more like someone attempting to copy his style than the genuine article, but nope, there’s his director credit. In the end, I suppose that Fate/EXTRA, despite being a very interesting game, was not ever going to be adapted well - the protagonist is almost literally a blank slate for a self-insert of the player, and their servant is also not set in stone - but I kind of would have rather had nothing than this. Dropped after 2 episodes.

SWORDGAI The Animation

Oh hey, yet another “the Animation”, it definitely doesn’t sound pretentious yet. I don’t have much to say on SWORDGAI, or at least not any more than anyone else - it’s stupid, very earnestly stupid, and doesn’t seem aware enough of that fact to be entertaining for more than a hate watch - and my hate plate is full already. Dropped after 1 episode.

Last Hope

I remember almost nothing about Last Hope other than that it was both pretentious and nonsensical, which kind of illustrates why Yoshiyuki Tomino is wise enough to stay out of anything that isn’t his beautiful Gundam baby, and it’s a shame that Kawamori (father of Super Dimensional Fortress Macross) doesn’t stick with what he knows, which is mech design. (No, seriously, he’s got a ton of credits on MAL and they’re almost all for that.) Dropped after 1 episode.

BAKI

Oh, BAKI, it’s okay, you’re a remnant from a different time. That time was right around when Mars of Destruction seemed like a good idea. It’s not that bad so I shouldn’t really mention them in the same sentence, but the hyper-violent imagery of this show is on the level of the Berserk manga. It’s unfortunate that I had to leave it after one episode because Netflix picked up a sequel that relies heavily on your pre-existing investment (just like with the Dragons TV show, for the record). Dropped after 1 episode.

A.I.C.O. Incarnation

I stuck with this one longer than any other that I didn’t drop, but in hindsight I shouldn’t have wasted my time. It’s one of the worst-looking Bones productions I’ve ever seen and the plot is a dumb ripoff of a much better science fiction series. Dropped after six episodes.

B: The Beginning

Probably the biggest waste of money on this list, B has such lavish animation that you can almost forget that you have absolutely no clue what’s happening or what the context of the story even is. It tries really hard to be both Psycho-Pass and Death Note at the same time to the point of cutting between them multiple times per scene, and it just ends up a badly jumbled mess, albeit one with really pretty colors. Dropped after 3 episodes.

Kakegurui

I still don’t have much to say here because the topic has been so thoroughly covered by The Anime Pope, so I’ll resummarize here - this is a show about gambling where the stakes seem utterly meaningless, even though it tries to impress us by showering money on the characters.

Children of the Whales

It’s so pretty, but it’s so boring. Children of the Whales succeeds in looking beautiful, but fails as a story that wants to be grim and apocalyptic but comes across as a soft-hearted small-village story that gets surprisingly violent four episodes in. This should have been the tone from the beginning, and the entire thing needed a good kick in the pants. Dropped after five episodes.

FINISHED

Sirius the Jaeger (6/10)

One that I waited a long time for after seeing the PV at Anime Central last year, and wound up pretty disappointed by in general. It looks nice (...at first), given that P.A. Works at least knows how to make a show visually appealing on a consistent basis, but the plot jumps so far into cliched stupidity by the end that, even though it had a few twists I wasn’t expecting, they couldn’t save it from being something I won’t recommend to anyone with as much anime experience as myself.

Lost Song (7/10)

(Author’s note: Yeah, apparently nobody on all of Tumblr has made a GIF of this one...)

Lost Song was a pleasant surprise that I wasn’t expecting to be invested enough to finish. One of the best of LIDENFILMS’ output, it manages to weave together a decent fantasy Symphogear AU fanfic, with interesting third-act twists peppering the last few episodes that made it memorable despite looking pretty generic. There’s a sequel due this year, too!

Hi Score Girl (7/10)

A very visually distinctive show with a neat concept that didn’t dive far enough into the heavy subjects it brings up, Hi Score Girl sits in a place where I like the presentation of it a lot more than I like the story. Don’t get me wrong, the romance is certainly cute, and I won’t begrudge a love triangle if it’s meant to be the primary conflict of a show, but the fact that it spent most of its last episode setting up for later robbed it of the chance to give us a satisfying place to leave off until the next part of this adaptation. Luckily, it got a second season, hopefully to finish the adaptation later this year.

Forest of Piano (7/10)

A good first try by a fledgling studio, but not one that lives up to what it really wants to be due to some very bad habits. I still distinctly remember the constant character shilling, and it feels like the story could have happened a little faster if not for the breaks every few minutes to heap praise upon the protagonist. Also, the mo-cap piano playing still looks weird. I’ll probably watch the sequel though, to see if it gets concluded well.

Dragon Pilot: Hisone to Masotan (8/10)

I literally just did my write-up for this one, so I don’t have much new to say here, but I’m pleased that Dragon Pilot turned out as well as it did despite not being what I quite expected from it.

Aggretsuko (8/10)

A fantastic and rather unorthodox look at what it’s actually like to be an adult in the Japanese workforce, Aggretsuko was an early darling of the year, and the only things that could have made it better were a more interesting visual presentation and a less squirrelly ending. Shame that the Christmas Special was...not good.

Devilman Crybaby (9/10)

It was so, so good...right up until the end. Yeah, that’s the only thing holding this back from a perfect score - I really, really hate the ending, and it needed to be changed. I know that, for most people, the best show of the year was either this one, or the most conspicuous work that hasn’t yet appeared on this list, though, so…

BEST NETFLIX SHOW OF THE YEAR: Violet Evergarden (10/10)

Oh God, what beautiful cry-porn. I hope that Kyoto Animation was paid well for their best show in years, and I’m kind of shocked that the two shows that made me sob the most this year both came out in the same season (thanks, A Place Further Than the Universe). I won’t spoil more than I did in my original review, but Netflix should be pushing this to literally everyone who would be even casually interested in watching it.

And that’s it! Last but not least, the last list won’t be a roundup of the whole year (since, you know, I’ve already done that in big chunks), but a list of the Class of 2018 Superlatives. Look forward to it!

[meltingalphabet]

Have you ever heard of a "BFB"?

My names Casey and I’m reaching out because my friend Dave has been missing for almost 24 hours now. The police have no leads. I think they presume he’s dead.

Dave and I had plans to hang out yesterday. You know, the usual: beer, video games, talk some shit. Nothing too crazy (hell, it was a Wednesday and we both work 9 to 5s).

I texted him as I left work. “heading out, gonna run by Nick’s, need anything?”

Nick’s was what we called the liquor store near Dave’s place. We’re there pretty regularly, so we know the owner, Nick, as well as random customers probably can. I guess we thought it was cool or something, calling the store Nick’s. Like we were stopping by a friend’s house instead of paying another human being for alcohol.

I thought it was odd that Dave didn’t respond, he’s usually pretty good like that, unlike me, but whatever. I figured he was busy or something. I got some supplies at Nick’s, then drove over.

Dave’s door was wide open. At least, that’s what I thought at first. I parked the car and got out. My stomach dropped as I realized that it wasn’t just opened but had been ripped off it’s hinges and thrown across the yard.

I ran inside and the place was an absolute wreck. It didn’t look like a home invasion, but instead like the Hulk had had a temper tantrum. Furniture was broken, pictures ripped off of the walls, his TV thrown across the room. I immediately called the police.

I walked from room to room while I waited for the cops to show. Every room was utterly devastated. Someone had destroyed everything in sight. The whole place radiated pure hatred and anger. Dave’s composition notebook that he uses as a journal was thrown on the bed, and I noticed that there was a small spurt of blood on the front cover. I grabbed it, and threw it in my bag. I know that’s bad… I know it could be evidence, but… I guess I figured I’d read it before giving it to the police. So I could see what my friend was going through before whatever happened… happened.

What I read was seriously messed up. I’m publishing the entries from the past week below. If you know anything, if any of this sounds familiar to you, please let me know.

----

June 16th

I met someone today. She’s the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She’s mysterious, and gorgeous, and I am truly, deeply in love.

I went to the docks after work to fish a little, have a few beers, and get into weekend mode. The pier here is never what one would refer to as “busy,” but the main section was too crowded for my tastes today, so I walked a bit deeper into the maze of docks than normal till I got to an old section of private landings. They looked like they hadn’t been used in years, algae staining the wood an eerie green. I was careful where I stepped, worried I might fall through a rotting board. I’ll admit, it was a little gross, but I felt so at peace there. Plus, I figured the fish would be pretty plentiful without tourists or boats to scare them off.

I was zoning out, waiting for my line to bob down into the water when she was suddenly there, right in front of me. It was as if she just appeared. She instantly took my breath away. Her red hair was pulled back with a headband adorned with large glittering seashells. She giggled, and offered me her delicate hand. Not as you would to shake someone you just met’s hand, but how you see well-to-do women in period movies present their hands to gentlemen. It was a little unorthodox, but that’s what I love about her. She’s so quirky. She’s different than any girl I’ve ever met before.

I took her hand gently in mine. It was so cold. Girls’ hands are always cold. I kissed her skin delicately, and electricity surged through my body as I looked up into her dark, piercing eyes. I know it's cliche, but her stare is burrowing. Like she’s trying to see something hidden behind my skin, beneath my voice, under my face. If she told me what she was looking for, I’d give it to her in a heartbeat.

We talked for several hours. At sundown, she told me she had to go home. She’s a little old for a curfew, and it is Friday night, but being the gentleman I am, I gave her a kiss on the cheek and watched her leave.

I sat on that old dock for another hour or so, ruminating on the beauty of life. That I could find my soul mate so unexpectedly, and in the most unlikely place is a testament to the mystery that surrounds each and everyone of us.

I wrote a poem about her:

Blood red hair, skin so fair, Your beauty is rare.

Wild as an untamed mare, No mortal could compare.

You are the answer to my prayers, Life without you, a nightmare.

I dream to catch your pale skin bare, To lay you down, in your underwear.

Sailors beware I have been, ensnared

June 17th

BFB came again today. I don’t think she has a name, at least not a real one, so I’m going to call her BFB. It’s cute. Much cuter than something lame, like bae. It’s cool. God, she’s so cool. I can’t fathom why such an amazing creature would be interested in me. I brought my reel and bait to the docks again, much earlier in the morning than I usually do on a Saturday, but it was worth it. She appeared the second I sat down. I spent the entire afternoon talking with her. She’s amazing. Her life is full of wonders I can barely even begin to comprehend.

I read her the poem I wrote for her yesterday. She really liked it. Poetry has that effect on women. Casey always makes fun of me for writing poetry, but he doesn’t realize that it’s a total panty dropper.

That would be a good band name: The Panty Droppers. I bet it’s already taken though.

I think I’ll bring my guitar tomorrow when I visit her. I promised I’d come to the docks first thing in the morning again, so we could spend all day together before the work week starts. I’m going to bring some picnic stuff. A blanket and some sandwiches. What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.

June 18th

BFB gave me a bracelet today. It’s not really my style. Honestly, it’s kind of gawdy. It’s a thick coarse string with little shells on it. I feel like it’s for a girl, not a guy, but she made it for me, so I couldn’t say no.

I guess the picnic was a bad idea. I had made egg salad sandwiches, and bought some nice cheese and crackers at the Farmer’s Market on my way. When I presented the food to her, she gagged and pushed it away so hard that the box of crackers fell off the dock and into the water. At first I figured she was vegan, since quirky girls often are. But something weird happened later on...

We were lounging together in silence. I was laying on my back on the dock while she was in the water. That’s how you know you’re really compatible with someone, when you can sit in silence and it’s not uncomfortable. My middle school English teacher said that once. I think we were reading The Pearl by Steinbeck. I bet BFB would like that book. Maybe I could read it to her soon. She’d love that. Anyway, I had my pole leaning against my bait box and I got a bite. I reeled it in, excited to show BFB my skills.

Even I was impressed with the size of the flounder I had hooked. BFB clapped with absolute glee at the sight of it. I was feeling pretty good about myself as I unhooked it and showed it to her. BFB grabbed the fish, still squirming slightly between her fingers, and began to eat it. Right then and there. She gorged on it, from its eyes to its tail. I watched in horror as she picked the small bones from her teeth. She grinned at me sheepishly when she noticed me watching. Her coquettish smile made me melt inside, and lessened the disgust from what I had just witnessed.

I think tomorrow I’ll bring BFB some sushi.

After I got over the whole fish thing, the rest of the day was spent in blissful relaxation. We didn’t really do much, just hung out. She said she had to leave again as it grew dark. This time though, when I leaned in to kiss her politely on the cheek, she turned her head and kissed me on the mouth, hard. Her breath was not great, unsurprisingly, but otherwise the kiss was amazing. Well, to be frank, it was a little toothy. Like, I’m into biting, but not like that. It kind of hurt. Not too bad, but a little. Ok, more than a little. Maybe she hasn’t kissed many guys before? I bet she’s a virgin. She has such a sweet, innocent vibe about her. She’s so cute. Normally I’d be getting impatient with the physical stuff, but with her… I’m enjoying taking our time. I feel like I’m a kid again.

I can’t believe this amazing creature feels about me how I feel about her. It’s only been two days, but I’ve never felt this way before.

Looking in the mirror when I got home, I noticed my lip is bruised and a little cut. Wow. That was some kiss. I bet she’ll be into some really kinky stuff. The innocent ones always are.

June 19th

I didn’t even go home after work tonight, but went straight to the pier (with a quick pitstop at Naka, my favorite sushi place). BFB was there, waiting for me when I arrived. We only had an hour or two till sunset, so I didn’t waste time: the second I saw her, I planted a long, deep kiss on her lips. At first I felt teeth on my tongue, as if she accidentally bit down. I guess my kiss surprised her. I started to taste blood and, not wanting to sully the kiss, I pulled away. BFB immediately blushed. Ugh, I can’t handle how cute she is.

I gave BFB the sushi, but she wasn’t into it. I don’t think it was fresh enough. But at least she didn’t throw it off the dock again, so I was able to enjoy some.

As it grew dark, BFB asked me to come with her. She wanted me to visit her home. As amazing as that sounded, I hesitantly told her no. I explained I had work the next day. I kissed her good-bye though, so she’d know she didn’t freak me out by moving so quickly. I didn’t want her to worry about me thinking she was easy or something.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m not so sure about seeing her home at all. I mean, based on what she’s told me, I don’t think I even could just visit her home. It feels like, if I agree, I’ll never come back. As amazing as she is and as beautiful as her life sounds, the thought makes me queasy. No matter how much I’d love to be with her, like really with her, I’m not sure I can give up my life so permanently. I mean, we’ve only know each other for a weekend! That’d be absolutely crazy, right?

June 20th

Alright, I might have been a little too hasty in declaring my love for BFB. I think I was blinded by her beauty and… feminine wiles, for lack of a better term. She’s fucking batshit. I shouldn’t have gone back to the docks after work tonight. I went home first and ate dinner, even made plans with Casey for tomorrow so I would have an excuse not to see her again. I should’ve just stayed here. I guess my nice guy nature made me go back. I wanted to explain to her that I was busy and wouldn’t be able to see her much this coming week. I was hoping I’d actually get to cop a feel before saying good-bye. But yeah, that didn’t fucking happen.

Thank god the crazy bitch doesn’t know where I live.

The second I got there, she started going on about me coming with her to her place tonight. Like, sex would be great and all, but fuck that shit. It wouldn’t be worth clingy-as-fuck-crazy-fish-breath pussy. I told her I couldn’t and she just stared at me with those piercing black eyes of hers. She began to reach out to me, the coldness of her flesh chilling me to the bone before she even touched me. I pushed her arm away. Her skin was shockingly rough. Not just rough though. It literally felt like sandpaper. I pulled my hand back fast and moved as far from the edge of the dock, and from her, as I could.

Then she started singing! If you could even call it that. It was more like a high pitched wail, begging me to join her in the murky water. I decided it was time to cut my loses and just break it off as fast as possible. It was the merciful thing to do. I stood up, dusted off my shorts, and told her I wasn’t ready for the kind of commitment she was expecting from a romantic relationship.

She did not take that very well. She didn’t respond, but just gnashed her fucking teeth at me like some sort of rabid animal. I had never noticed how sharp her teeth were before. As if she filed them to points like those tribes in Africa. No wonder kissing her hurt so much.

I turned and ran out of there as fast as I could and came straight home.

I think she’s mad at me. Like, really mad at me. Not hurt mad, but like, psycho-bitch-will-murder-me mad. Thank god she doesn’t have legs, or I’d be worried she was coming after me. Lucky for me, fish tail means my would-be-stalker is trapped in the ocean. The curse of the mermaid is my blessing, apparently. And here I’ve been wondering how I was going to fuck her.

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Casey here again. That’s the last thing Dave wrote. But, that’s not the last thing written in the journal. The next page, curled and warped from water, has something else. It’s not written in ink. At least, not ink I’ve ever seen. It’s black, but much more iridescent than regular ink. It has this unearthly green tinge, that catches in the light. Even after having read it over and over again, goosebumps crawl up my spine as I transcribe it for you now:

I am taking this foolish mortal down into the dark void, where me and my sisters will take his humanity and use it so that our species may flourish. While he slowly dies, his seed will mold us into so much more. Once every two hundred years, as queen, I am granted legs to come onto dry ground for one night. But once I am done with him, we will no longer be cursed to remain in the ocean, and we will come onto dry ground whenever we very well please.

Prepare yourselves, for I am the beast from beneath, and I will be back very, very soon.