#also not me realizing i wrote the year wrong but im too tired to fix it HAHAHA

[agatahikaru]

HAPPY BORTHDAY TO RAMENMAN!!! god i love this man so much bwuwhuhgugh

[theonlygamergost]

Techno loving day - Fd!au

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by@antarctic-bay, if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!

Of course this fic was grammatically corrected by the amazing @im-default

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

The Pandel brother’s threw a surprise party to celebrate Techno’s amazing grades... they weren’t expecting to uncover a burden that had been haunting Techno for a while.

This was also a small thing I wrote at midnight for Techno’s aprecciation/loving day, I just fixed some things and added a few details :)

Warnings: angst, angst with happy ending, fluff, high chance of crying while reading this.

~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy~

Techno was coming back home from Skeppy’s house, he had helped his friend with homework he was struggling with since Skeppy didn’t study much and this exam was pretty important, like, you could not pass the year important and Techno wasn’t risking losing his best friend. He refused to be in a year without Skeppy, they were inseparable friends, sometimes he was the only thing that kept Techno sane through rough days and anxiety attacks, apart from his brothers, he was the only one he opened up to and talked to without care, rambling about anything on his mind. Skeppy would always listen to him.

After all of that explaining, friendly roasting and hysterical laughing, all he wanted was to face plant into his bed and pass out until the next morning.

The stairs taking him to the apartment he shared with his brothers were twice as painful to climb today, his eyes were fluttering and threatening to close while looking at the steps.

He pulled his keys out of his backpack and opened the front door, immediately realizing that... Something was… wrong?

The apartment’s lights were turned off, which was weird since Wilbur and Tommy had gone straight home after school. He was also pretty sure Phil had sent in their chat that he was coming back early, but he was too busy helping Skeppy with the English work.

Too tired to dwell on it, he closed his eyes and reached out for the light’s switch, bracing himself for the blinding light that was about to appear.

He clicked the switch and-

”HAPPY LOVING TECHNO DAY!!!”

His brothers were all around the kitchen counter, a small chocolate cake placed on the fake marble surface.

”What the- What’s going on? it's not my birthday-” Wilbur grabbed him and pulled him closer to the counter, where Phil and Tommy were waiting. ”We know!” he pulled a stool and indicated it to Techno, who was frozen on the spot Will had left him in.

”You passed a lot of exams with top scores recently” Phil started talking, slapping away Tommy’s hand from the homemade fries, gaining a hiss from the younger blondie, “And you have been working extremely hard for them, so we decided to celebrate!” he smiled whole-heartedly at the younger brother, who was still in shock.

”G-guys...” Techno looked down, keeping in the tears that he felt slowly forming in his eyes.

”Come on Techno!” Tommy frustratedly whined, “Stop acting shocked and take a seat! I want to eat!!! Phil cooked his mind-blowing fries and ordered pizza from the good Italian place on the main street! We eating good tonight bois!!!” Tommy yelled, not caring if the neighbours were going to complain the next day.

”T-thank you guys...” his voice was half-trembling, making his, already focused on the food, brothers look at him. “Dude, Techno, you ok?” Phil was the first one to talk, his parental instinct kicking in.

“Y-yeah… It's just…” he grabbed his arms, squishing them to his chest. “I-I haven’t said anything to anyone but… It has been a rough period…” now all of his brothers were worried, the food slowly getting cold.

“ Lately, the math teacher changed and… They've started having high expectations of me… too high… pulling all-nighters every night has helped me meet his expectation but… that meant not sleeping enough and not having time to spend with my friends and… y-you…” At this point he was silently sobbing, eyes closed tightly, his body crumpled on itself.

The brothers were at a loss for words.

They had noticed Techno’s eye bags getting darker, it happened periodically near exams since he stayed up to study, but they usually got less apparent after they ended… not this time.

Phil got up and hugged Techno, slowly caressing Techno’s back, “You know…” He softly spoke, “We have always been proud of your grades Techno but… you aren't your grades, you don’t need to be top of the class for us to love you” Techno froze, “But the teacher-”

A fist slamming onto the counter made everyone jump, “WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT THE TEACHER!” Wilbur yelled, making everyone look at him in both shock and worry.

Wilbur was usually calm in every situation, handling everything with grace and logic, but hearing Techno mentally hurt by someone who was supposed to teach him, to help him… it downright pissed him off.

“Ignore that bastard! You don’t need the top grades, you need to be healthy and happy!” Techno wiped his tears with the back of his hand, Phil still by his side.

“I- I know you are the teacher’s favourite Technoblade but who fucking cares? Who fucking cares about meeting expectations?!” He got off his stool and grabbed Techno by his sides, “Look at me Technoblade” Wilbur had the habit of calling Techno by his full name when he was serious, so he looked up into his older brother’s eyes.

“You’ll always be our brother, no matter what happens, we will always love you” he hugged Techno tightly, Phil and Tommy joining in, making him feel special and loved.

The food had gotten cold by now, but Techno could wait for it to heat up again and enjoy a celebratory meal with his brothers: he didn’t need to pull an all-nighter tonight.

[ghost-in-the-stalls]

What are ur tilda hcs?

Okay im finally gonna answer this!! Thank you so much for asking!!! I love receiving asks and I love sharing my headcanons. Sorry again it's so late ❤❤❤

This isn't gonna be nearly as well worded and eloquent as I originally planned. The first time I wrote it it basically became a drabble about her life. And then I lost that whole draft. Lmao

I just don't have it in me to recreate that whole thing again but I still wanna share my headcanons about her because I do have a lot!

I also wanna say this is in no way to like... excuse her behavior or try and redeem her. She was a terrible person. But people aren't born terrible. And I like taking 2 dimensional fictional women and making them make sense. So this isn't to excuse but instead to explain? I guess?

cw for all the shit you expect with the minyards by now, but specifically drug addiction and statutory rape. Also this is LONG so its going under a cut.

So first of all, I imagine her and Luther as being half siblings. Their father was a preacher or something- someone with a big role in their church's community and a big reputation of being a reliable, wise, holy man.

When Luther was maybe around 3 years old, there was this teenage girl in the congregation who would often come to Mr. Hemmick for advice, guidance, comfort, etc. She didn't quite fit in in school, wasn't great at academics and struggled to keep up with her siblings achievements, and was overall going through a lot of the turmoil thats unfortunately common for teenagers.

So she, like many people in the congregation, went to Mr Hemmick for guidance and ended up seeing a lot of him. She felt listened to and believed in with him. She felt like he treated her as more mature than the way her family treated her. She trusted him. He abused that.

If you asked her at the time, she would have said it was consensual between them. But she was 16. And when she became pregnant, he turned on her REAL fast lemme tell you. He made her promise not to tell anyone that he was the father, and he only told his wife. And of course, when he told his wife, he talked at length about how this 16 year old girl tempted him to sin; how he regretted it and only hoped she could learn to truly find God.

So he took the child in upon being born as a way to "attone" for what he'd done, but the whole community (not knowing he was the father) just saw it as an act of good will. And of course he'd tout off a lot in his sermons about how he'd be able to give the baby a much better, holier lifestyle than a teenager who turned her back on god by having sex.

So he and his wife end up raising Tilda from birth, but they make sure she knows from the beginning the circumstances of her birth. They drill it into her that her mother was a dirty sinner and that she herself is tainted as a result. She is raised always feeling like she needs to be twice as good to even be considered half as good as her brother in her parents eyes.

Naturally, she stops trying pretty early. In middle school, I imaging her being one of those bullies. The really nasty ones who get violent at their victims for even looking at them wrong. Idk about anyone else, but in my schools growing up the fights between the girls were always way bloodier than the ones between the guys. And I imagine those as the types of fights she got in- especially when one of her victims decides to stand up for themselves by throwing her own baggage back in her face.

By high school, she was thoroughly committed to the role of problem child. She would do everything she could to upset her family and get herself into shit. She'd do drugs, skip classes, show up to school drunk, stay out late, etc. In addition to all this, she would purposefully find whatever guy seemed like the most trouble and take him home. Whether this was the school drug dealer, a boy who got expelled for some rough shit, or college boys who caught her eye at parties.

So she's basically dug this hole for herself where she's committed to actually being the child of sin that her family has always seen her as anyway. The few people who tried to reach out to her wouldn't get far. She would push and push at them to see how far she could stretch their patience (to see how long it took them to give up on her like everyone else).

She even had one teacher who never did give up on her. But she outright told Tilda that she can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. Those words would ring in Tildas ears for years to come, even if she never found it in herself to put the concept into action.

So eventually she'd graduate- just barely because she rarely put in effort in school- and she'd be left to suddenly have to find a place in the world when she previously never even thought she'd have a future. She started batting heads with her family even more (which no one thought was possible at that point) but it became less antagonistic on her end. She was still a shit stirrer, don't get me wrong. But she was getting tired. The fights were less about her being intentionally aggrevating and aggressive and more about her continuously being unable to live up to their expectations.

Luther already had a promising job as a cop at this point, meanwhile she was still living at home and bouncing between jobs that barely kept her afloat and boyfriends that barely made her feel worth something. She'd gotten into drugs in high school, and the habit only got worse now that she was out. It was the only thing that made her feel something other than misery or numbness. She could lose herself in the drugs and the boyfriends and the late nights out. She would come home to see her parents less and less and would speak to them only when absolutely necessary.

Eventually Mr. Hemmick died fairly young (heart attack or something equally as tragic. Whatever I dont care about him enough to pick the details) and his wife followed soon after by suicide. The house was left to Luther, who moved back in immediately and said there'd be changes in the household. He basically told Tilda to quit the drugs and go back to church if she wanted to stay in the house. He also had other rules like keeping a job, dumping her current boyfriend, giving her a curfew, etc.

So she left. She took her shitty beat up car an ex had fixed up for her and headed to California. A friend from high school lived out that way, so that's where she headed.

During this period in her life the drugs got a lot worse. This is also when she realized that she had become addicted. Mainly this is because, even after being away from her family and having freedom, she was still miserable. She didn't know how to get through a day sober. The constant variation between numbness and misery was too much to bare, but she wasn't ready to help herself. She wasn't ready to commit to her own healing and health.

She was in and out of therapy and rehab as quickly as she'd change jobs and partners. She wouldn't commit, and as soon as she had an out she'd take it. Had to miss an appointment for scheduling? Didn't make it back to the shelter in time to claim her bed for the night? Forgot to call back one of the few people who tried to reach out? No going back.

This is my main thing with Tilda. She was a shitty person who had a shitty life. But she never found the strength and commitment in herself to put in the work to be better. She instead let herself fall further and further down the hole because it was easier than pulling herself out. Because part of her still believed deep down that she had succeeded in living up to her birthright- that she wasn't deserving of ever healing or being better.

It was in one of these rehab facilities that she met the twins' father (and this part is absolutely inspired by Luke and Joey from the haunting of hill house). He was a guy with a similar past to hers- always sure he was meant to be bad so he committed to the role and never learned to commit to anything else. The difference between them, though, was that he was ready to get better.

They became fast friends and leaned on one another a bit while in rehab. She didn't see him as anything other than a friend, but he unfortunately became set on this idea that they would heal and move forward together. She knew he had feelings for her and enabled him (she didn't love him back but had never actually felt cared for like this before). He believed in her even when she didn't believe in herself, which was a lot. Unfortunately for him, he also ended up being more committed to her healing than she was. When she eventually started spiraling again, all other feelings for him were overshadowed by the part of her that just saw an opportunity.

She took advantage of him. She slept with him, took his money while he was sleeping, and bailed to get high and never see him again. Now I'm not gonna say she was just a devil who entered this poor man's life. He saw her more as a potential for an ideal life than a person. He was more in love with the dream he had of them getting better and starting a life together than he was actually in love with her and who she was as a person. Bad match all around.

So she never saw or heard from him again. When she found out she was pregnant, she went home to Luther and his wife and son. She didn't tell him right away that she was pregnant. Instead, she pretended she was just finally ready to commit to God and turn her life around. She played the part alright for a while, went to church with them and got sober and everything, but tried to leave and move into a women's shelter when she started showing. Luther found out and brought her home.

At first he was actually super supportive- mainly because he just genuinely thought she wanted to find God and stop "living in sin". But when she finally told him she didn't plan to keep the child, he turned on her.

We know the story from there. Personally I think the night that she stole the money and ran as her point of no return. Years down the line, when she knew she was being a terrible mother and person, she'd remember that night. And she'd think to herself how this is who she was always meant to be. How she doesnt deserve to be any better than how she is. And she'd dig the hole deeper.

-----

So yeah thats my take on Tilda Minyard. Sorry it was so long. I like the idea of giving depth and complexity to female characters- even the bad guys and the ones I don't like. I have a similar lengthy life concept for Mary Hatford as well, but it isn’t nearly as long. If anyone is curious lol

Thanks again for asking!

[nomintokki]

Shouldn’t Be | Lee Jeno

PAIRINGS: Lee Jeno x Girlfriend!reader 

GENRE: angst, just angst kslajsajdla

WORDCOUNT: 1.4k

Synopsis: You found out you were being played by your partner for a year and a half.

A/N: Inspired by the song Shouldn’t be by Luke Chiang. I wrote this 2am in the morning and I was craving some angst so pls bear with me. 

It was late at night the moon was fully up, you just got back from your favorite cafe finishing your reviewers since finals were coming up. As soon as you arrived home you dropped your stuff and dove right into your bed letting the sheets swallow you up. As you rest you remembered you haven't seen or heard anything from your boyfriend, Lee Jeno. You and Jeno have been together for a half and a year by now although the past months were rough the two of you made sure to make up. However since finals were around the corner it was rare for both of you to see each other, even through texting and calls since both of you were too occupied by your own works. Thinking about him made you fish out your phone from your bag. You opened your phone having unread messages from Jeno and your best friend. You opened Jeno's message first "y/n sorry for replying late. I'm tired I’ll call you when finals are over. I miss you 💕" You miss him too you really do you just wish the finals will be over soon. You miss his scent, the scent of his minty cologne mixed with the citrusy scent of his shampoo, you miss his deep voice, and most of all you miss seeing his eye smile, his eyes that turn into two crescent moon shape whenever he smiles. You texted him back "I miss you too Jeno. Good luck with your finals! I love you!".

After clicking send you checked on your best friend's message "y/n I really don’t think Jeno and Cassie are just friends. I saw them again they were at Baskin look" *pic attached*. As you read your best friend's message your heart sank but once you opened the picture your heart even shattered. You have been suspecting that Jeno was cheating on you with Cassie, a random girl from your uni,  however, you keep on denying at convincing yourself they were just friends. You turned your phone off, not having the energy to reply to your best friend, lying down on the bed you feel nothing, numb perhaps, a lot is going through your mind.  You didn't want to confront Jeno yet, you don't want this to affect your performance in school most especially that finals are nearing. It hurts After staring at the ceiling long enough to gain back the energy to move, you stood up dragging your feet to the bathroom hoping a shower would help you clear your thoughts. 

Sadly, the shower was of no help. While the water was rushing through you thoughts keep coming. You kept on asking yourself ‘where could have I gone wrong?’ ‘Am I not enough?’ ‘am I too toxic for him?’ ‘why does it have to come to the point wherein he would cheat’. Knowing the stubborn you, you kept rebutting the last question you keep on telling yourself that Jeno can’t do this, he wouldn’t cheat even though proof was already there. You stepped out of the shower got dressed to your PJs and dove back to your bed. You snuggled yourself in you didn’t realize tears were coming, soon enough you fell asleep tired from thinking and crying. 

You woke up to your alarm, trying to open your tired and puffy eyes you turned off that annoying sound. You noticed that you have a notification from Jeno, just great what a nice thing to start your day with, you sarcastically thought. You clicked on the notification reading “Hi y/n today is your first and last finals for the sem! I hope you are well rested! Good luck” You wanted to convince yourself that what he said was genuine. Again you are too stubborn to see that he was lying, again you convinced yourself that they were just hanging out in that picture. But you were too tired to reply, You just threw your phone to your bag and started to get ready for the long day ahead. 

Finally, all of your written finals are over, some of your finals were practical and physical and you have already submitted them also. While walking toward your locker with your best friend you finally see Jeno, he was leaning through the door frame of a random classroom. The whole week you haven’t seen him, his back was facing you and you were planning to surprise him, but it was you who was surprised. As of on cue Cassie walked out of the classroom Jeno as near she gave him a hug and Jeno offered to carry her bag. You froze at the scene you were witnessing your best friend also froze probably didn’t know how to handle the situation. While your feet were still stuck on the ground Jeno turned around and saw you. His eyes grew big and called your name softly. He tried to reach out for you but you were fast, you started running away from him. 

After running far enough for your energy to drain you end up in the university’s parking lot. You dropped down to the ground and started crying harder. You couldn’t believe you witnessed your boyfriend for a year and half cheat on you. You weren’t surprised because you already knew that there is a possibility that he was cheating on you but the pain you were feeling was gnawing. It was really painful for you to think that he wasn’t honest when he was saying he misses you, he was playing with you, he hurt your pride. You realized that he told you words he didn’t mean. 

Your best friend found you in the parking lot she comforted you by patting your back. She waited for you to calm down and offered to bring you home. As soon as you got home, you let yourself be drowned by your sofa. You didn’t have the energy to go to your room and fix yourself anymore. Your best friend got a blanket from your room and put it on top of you. She fixed and placed some tissue, water, and anything you might need before she left. A few minutes after she left you fell to sleep while crying. 

Knocks from your door woke you up, too tired and drained you didn’t bother answering it. But then you heard his voice call out for your name. Tears started to form from your eyes again, you were already tired from crying but as if your tear ducts were broken and can’t stop from producing tears. “y/n please open the door let me talk to you” you heard him call for your name again. After a few more knocks you heard a heavy sigh from the other side of the door. ‘I don’t know if your in here or not if your listening or not. It’s okay if you don’t open the door I don’t really deserve it. Im such an asshole for doing this to you.’ you wanted to open the door for him but you were too hurt to do so, you decided to just listen instead. ‘‘There are no acceptable excuses as to why I cheated on you. I don’t know what gotten into me and how I did that. I won’t try to defend myself and throw excuses anymore cuz the fact is that I still cheated on you. Even though me and Cassie were not a thing I still cheated on you I admit that I’m sorry. If you won’t accept my apology I respect and understand that. But I’m really sorry.  You alone is enough I swear its just that... I couldn’t resist the temptations around me and I am really sorry It is totally my fault. I guess this will be the end for us huh?’’ he chuckles but you heard his voice crack and this made you cry harder. “ I want to say I’m really thankful for you y/n. With you, I was able to experience different things and feel the happiness I have never felt before I met you. Having you beside me was probably the highlight of my life. I swear I would regret doing this to you. I probably can’t even forgive myself for doing this to you. I was too dumb to ruin what we have. I am sorry y/n I really am.”

Hearing him makes you want to open the door and forgive him already, you miss him so much you wanted to smell his scent again. But you just can’t. everything is just too painful for you to brush off. You want to keep him so bad, keeping him close to you shouldn’t be this hard. But you can’t it made you feel the lowest and you don’t think you can stand up yet and keep him near you again. 

[angel-deux-writes]

Hi Angel! I've been a big fan of yours since HCM, and so I wanted to express my concern for your wellbeing. There was that big break when you took a month or so to finish HCM before posting it in quick succession, in order to not have to deal with the comments. Now, from what you've been writing in the notes to Dorne Rights, it looks like you are experiencing something similar. The selfish fan in me wants you to keep writing and keep posting, but the basic human in me is more worried that (1/2)

you are unhappy. Nothing is worth making yourself unhappy over, particularly not something that’s meant to give you pleasure. A favourite author of mine back in the days of my Spike/Angel obsession had a disclaimer on her stories telling readers to please not leave feedback of any kind, not even constructive criticism, on her fics because she finds them unhelpful. Her comment section was full of chats about various topics in that fandom, rather than her own fiction. Might help. (2/2)

Hello! I really appreciate this message, because you’re right: fanfic writing isn’t good for me.

(lol putting this beneath the cut because it’s way too long)

It’s actually my experience in this fandom that has made me realize that writing in general probably isn’t good for me, but unfortunately I feel a drive to it and can’t seem to stop myself from thinking I’ll one day get published, so that’s a bit of a downer. The truth is that I’m naturally disposed toward thinking that I’m shit, my words are shit, and every thought I’ve ever had is unoriginal and poorly written. It’s always been like that, from the time I wrote my first attempt at fiction at 7 years old to now at 31. It takes a lot for me to share my writing with people. I started writing fic at 14, basically as soon as I discovered that I wasn’t the only person composing stories about Han and Leia in their free time. I’m sure that my fics were horrendous. I give myself a hard time now, but 14 year old me probably deserved it even more. But there were sweet people on the internet who encouraged me (and lied to me) and told me that my stories were good, and that made a huge difference. 

(that and my freshman year english teacher, who was very very cute and earnest and young and made me feel like I could actually be a writer.)

I’ve never been a part of a fandom before. Discourse and meta and long discussions about canon events have never interested me. I’ve said that before, and it remains true! I consume what canon there is, and sometimes I like it, and sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I’m so dissatisfied with it that I need to write something, and so I do. I don’t think I’ve ever written fic for something that I found entirely satisfactory. The extension of my being part of an actual fandom in the past was probably reblogging a few gifsets and recommending it to friends. I’ve just never had that sort of communal experience. This, the J/B fandom, was my first time really getting into it. It’s the first time I’ve ever made friends online that weren’t just frequent commenters on long multichapter fics! It has been exciting and I’m grateful for it! It’s just also probably not good for me. 

It’s just, like, every time I post something, I’m fighting a very loud and very desperate voice in my head that’s saying “you’re shit and you shouldn’t bother”. It’s why I’m so good at writing first drafts of novels but so, so bad at getting past the second. It’s why I usually post fics only until I’ve worked out my frustrations: one or two fics per fandom and then ghosting away forever. It’s very hard to defy that voice and post something anyway, and this fandom experience has taught me that no matter HOW many stories I post, I’m ALWAYS going to have to fight that voice. And it’s gotten actively stronger. “You’re not what this fandom wants” “You’re not good at this” “Everyone’s just being nice” “You’ve overstayed your welcome”. Paying attention, often by accident, to the discourse and the metas only makes it worse, because my brain automatically turns to “well YOU don’t write them like that. That means you’re wrong”. I can tell myself as many times as I want that I myself like many different interpretations of J/B! My brain goes “yeah, but you’re just an idiot who doesn’t know any better. There’s a right way, and you’re not doing it”. 

THIS IS ALL SO DRAMATIC! But it’s just the truth! Every time I post something, it’s against my nature. NO ONE outside of fandom reads my writing! I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve allowed my close friends and family to read things. So while it may seem like, idk, like I should just be able to get over it, negative comments, or even SLIGHTLY critical comments, really hit me hard. For all the positive feedback I get (and I really AM super grateful for it, and it means the world to me), those few critical voices seem louder because they’re agreeing with what I have already known about myself. And so it feels almost like a victory, but a shitty one. “Ha! I was right this whole time! I AM a shit writer, and I’ve for some reason tricked those other people into thinking I’m good!” 

For a long time (much longer than I’ve ever written for any other fandom, obviously), I was able to shove it to the side. The J/B fandom HAS been super good to me, and they HAVE been wonderful about giving me feedback and making me feel welcome and included. But those negative voices are just SO LOUD to me, even though I know logically that they shouldn’t be. 

It would be easy to point to a specific problem and say that my issues will be fixed if only I can address that. I do it CONSTANTLY. Maybe if I stopped tagging other relationships. Maybe if I stopped tagging other characters. Maybe if I tagged my works super specifically. Maybe if I made author’s notes about how I’m a shit writer and people shouldn’t expect things from me. Maybe if I just wrote “THIS STORY IS WRITTEN ALREADY AND IM JUST EDITING AS I GO! PLEASE DONT SUGGEST THINGS!” I just feel like, increasingly, I want fewer and fewer eyes on my fics. It’s the opposite of the problem I thought I would have. But my confidence took a huge hit with HCM, and then I was finally feeling good enough to post Dorne Rights. It was probably a mistake! 

idk, maybe it’s just all the shit that’s going on in the world + in my personal life. Maybe it’s just time. Maybe I’m just running out of inspiration. But the positive voices aren’t loud enough to drown out my own negative self-voice this time, and so I’ve been trying to figure out how to handle it. Part of me wants to delete Dorne Rights with the intention of reworking it and maybe posting it again down the line with fewer tags and a lot more reminders that people can write their own stories if they don’t like mine. Part of me wants to just do a HCM and post it all at once so that I can leave the finished product up (even if I now think the entire thing is garbage). Part of me wants to stop writing fic entirely, at least until the next time I watch something with an ending so bad it fucks me up. I think my solution will probably be a massive step back from fandom for a little while. I’ve been feeling a drive to work on my original stuff, and I should probably lean into that. I would like to still write and post J/B, once I find the inspiration, but I’m tired of feeling like this is a job. I think I got so deeply sunk into this attitude of “I NEED to write and post constantly because these people want me to, and they actually like what I write!!” that I stopped writing things because I wanted to write them and started writing them because I wanted to write things for other people, to make other people happy, and so that they could tell me that I’m not a shit writer at all.

I should make it clear that I do intend to write my JB fic swap thing FOR SURE. I will drag that story out of myself no matter what. But in general it’s probably just healthier for me to not spend so much time On Here especially, and on fic in general.

[aliferous-ly]

The Setting Sun

yall. Yall. i wrote a fic im so proud of myself. This is Possibly a series, if y’all want it !! otherwise standalone /peace sign/ also, if you like a certain pairing then mention it bcos idk which pairing yet, if any, so :3c

Summary: “He... Logan wasn’t angry, at the events. He just came to a realization, like dust, sitting heavy in his lungs. If he coughed his entire life would go black and gray, and he wouldn’t be able to stop.”

AKA Logan realizes he’s not the best person to be Thomas’s Logic. So he makes a new one. 

Words: 3196

Genre: angst, some fluff. Logangst, of course

Warnings: implied character death for a moment (I promise, he does not die). deprecation, not showing all the sides in the most flattering light (like humans), disappearance.. if there’s anything else, please let me know!

writing tag: @sassy-in-glasses​, @rose-gold-roman​, @justanotherpurplebutterfly​, @echomist13​

Logan came to the realization like Roman might describe love: slowly, and then all at once.

He was increasingly perceptive of the other sides’ actions, though he wasn’t sure if this was a side effect of being Logic or if it were more... paying astute attention to their every move.

But he started noticing the little things, like when Virgil mentioned how certain long silences made him nervous and attentive to every single move.

And the word games of sarcasm that sometimes, used to, fly over his head.

But he’d gotten better.

And he’d gotten so much worse for it.

He noticed Roman’s roll of the eyes when Logan turned away, or sometimes in full view, turning to look at Thomas, get a load of this guy. He noticed the disdainful flick of his fingers, the push of his shoulders, the sneer on his lips that might disappear in moments time.

Of course he saw Patton’s strained smile, his frown at Logan’s exposition, just hold back a bit next time, bud, we don’t want any wounded feelings around here! The concerned jolt of his gaze, flipping between Virgil and Roman and Logan, uncertainty, forced delight, the simmer of it’ll all be okay, let’s just take a step back and talk about it! even though Logan knew “it” would always be feelings and not the actual issue at hand.

And Virgil’s candid nature hid such secrecy that Logan couldn’t miss the darkened expression, the gentle lean away, how Virgil would talk about how Logan disrespected him, or used to, and in the next heartbeat force Logan to shift for his means. The listen, dude, you might want to lay off a bit. Of course, Logan could do that, of course.

He couldn’t miss, then, Thomas wincing, the muscles in his face contracting into something (something) and he’d make eye contact with Roman or Virgil and they’d have that look. He couldn’t miss Thomas’s awkward stance, the way he’d shift when Logan stepped up to speak, the defense alighting in everyone’s eyes the moment Logan opened his mouth.

He... Logan wasn’t angry, at the events. He just came to a realization, like dust, sitting heavy in his lungs. If he coughed his entire life would go black and gray, and he wouldn’t be able to stop.

He couldn’t cough. He couldn’t mess up.

Logan massaged the center of his chest, staring into a shard of broken glass glittering rainbow in the light of the mindscape. Every side had one; they’re own personal escape into Thomas’s core, the centerpiece of his existence.

Too long spent in there, and they would dissolve into Thomas. And I wouldn’t want to lose you, Patton told Virgil. Please don’t go back.

Logan wouldn’t leave without a second thought. He couldn’t do that to them; Logic was a particularly important piece to discussion, and Logan knew that he... that Logic would be needed, for the pieces to fit together. For the code to run properly.

Viscous despair surged through his veins, slogging and clogging his throat and heart, and Logan knew he was no longer needed. Not as Logan. As a facet of Thomas’s personality, he’d failed, and grown too far from the center.

Logan exhaled, closing his eyes and ignoring the trails down his cheeks. Touching the cold surface, he slowly drew his fingers away, trails of electric blue and steel grey extracting from the glass. Logan pulled the essence of Logic from Thomas’s core, the very thought that had been used to make him – only, different, because Logan... Logan could not be a repeat, he could not be another stumble in the process of Thomas’s life.

He gathered synopsis, collected and connecting every (important) aspect of Logic into one humanoid figure. They were comprised of long strings like nerves, dark blue and gleaming.

One more thing. Logan took a moment, or two, to think. He couldn’t mess this part up; done incorrectly, Logan would cause the very problem he was seeking to repair.

One breath, two, and Logan tapped his index finger against his heart, wincing as he drew out a long strand of glowing silver, waving ribbon-like through the air. The world dulled a little at the edges, his connection to Thomas waning and dissolving like morning dew. He suddenly couldn’t remember what year Thomas graduated, or how long he’d studied to be an engineer.

(He remembered twenty Disney facts that Virgil and Roman had tag teamed in teaching him, he remembered Patton’s favorite tea and how much sugar he liked in his coffee, he remembered–)

Logan wove the silver through the blue, interlocking the two until he’d created a fully new being, complete with all of Logan’s capabilities and (Logan slid his fingers away from the silver) his connection to Thomas.

“You’re going to fix everything I’ve destroyed,” Logan said softly. He leaned forward, suddenly tired, rubbing at his temples. “I’m sorry for pinning you with the responsibility. But with luck, you’ll be just the right Logic for them.”

Logan cradled the blue strands shaped like a jaw, and pressed a single kiss to their forehead. “You’ll succeed where I’ve failed,” he said, as life and autonomy filled the shape of a human Logan had created. Skin stitched over blue wiring, eyes glowing the silver of Logan’s connection as they blinked open.

“You are Logic,” Logan said, exhausted and fading fast. “You know your purpose. There are others like you, but they do not know you yet.”

The new Logic stared at him, unblinking. They opened their mouth and said, “What are you?”

Logan smiled, brown eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’m nothing.”

“But you are here,” they said. “You cannot be nothing. Nothing does not exist.”

“Truly, I am,” Logan said. He reached out a hand, the skin and veins and bones disappearing, fading like a mirage. “You see? I am vanishing.”

They blinked once, then. “You are Logic.”

“No,” Logan said. He shook his head. “I was.”

His body finally got the cue, and Logan faded just like Roman had once explained love:

Slowly, and then all at once.

I was.

I am no longer.

—

Roman heard a whisper through the mindscape and looked up from his book, narrowing his eyes.

“Roman?” Patton asked, doing a jigsaw puzzle with Virgil. “What’s up?”

“I heard something,” Roman said.

Virgil snorted. “Like, a ghost? Are we haunted? Can we be haunted?” he sounded excited about the concept.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Roman said. They made faces at each other, a common “you’re irritating” that they exchanged.

“Maybe I’m the ghost, and you’re just now noticing my ghostly attributes,” Virgil said, wiggling his fingers.

“If any of us were a ghost, it’d be Logan,” Roman said, laughing. “From how often he holes himself up in his room nowadays.” He winced, then, because yikes, he forgot to watch his mouth again. He waited for Patton’s chiding be nice to Logan, Roman, that he’d always gotten with Virgil, and frowned when it didn’t come.

Virgil snorted before refocusing on the puzzle, evidently done with the conversation. Patton made a small noise of victory, slotting a piece into place. Virgil’s face softened with a smile.

Roman turned back around, leaning against the couch, brows furrowed. Something was wrong with the mindscape, something off. But if Virgil wasn’t noting anything, then it had to be solely in Roman’s realm.

Because... well, Roman couldn’t explain it, really, just a couple feelings thrown together with erratic stitching into a mismatched blanket that barely worked. But if he had to hazard a guess, something had been created, and shifted, and something – he longed to know what – added, to him, to his job.

The last part made him a little indignant because honestly, wasn’t his job hard enough? Which side decided well, this is a little much for me, Roman can take it!

Probably... well, probably Logan, but it didn’t seem logical for Logan to dump something else on Roman, not when Logan knew how stressed Roman could get, not when Logan was uncomfortably familiar with Roman’s breakdowns.

“Hey Virgil,” Roman said, throwing an arm on the back of the couch and turning to look at the table.

Virgil sighed. “What, couldn’t stand silence for more than five minutes?”

“It was three minutes and forty five seconds and I cannot, in fact, stand upon silence so no, I cannot,” Roman said, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could think. “Nerd,” he tacked on at the end, lamely and without heat.

Patton stopped moving, his and Virgil’s gaze stopping on Roman’s face, expressions twisted with confusion.

Virgil laughed uncomfortably, shifting in his chair. “You might be spending a little too much time with Logan, man.”

“I think it’s a good thing!” Patton said. “Logan can be a tough nut to crack.”

Roman frowned, because he wasn’t really, although he... he hadn’t really tried, as of late, to focus on him.

“I’m... I’m gonna go to imagination,” Roman said.

“Alright, kiddo!” Patton said. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just...” Roman searched for an excuse, half-standing, when an idea struck him. He trained his face into a cocky, pompous expression, drawing on Thomas’s ability as an actor, falling into his role easily. “I’m bored. Reading this novel has not been as stimulating as promised, and I need to fight something.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and Roman internally grinned. Ace in the hole. Patton laughed and said, “Go ahead, bud! We’re not holding you back!”

Roman stood fully, stretching and setting the book on the side table, careful not to bend any of the pages. His books were littered with dogears and highlights, but Logan’s were meticulously cared for, only the best of the best with perfect folds (favorite parts) and notes.

Roman sank out to the hallway they collectively called home, each of their rooms branching out. Patton’s, of course, was adorned with various positive imagery with the overarching pale blue theme. Virgil’s was pitch black, delicate engravings of purple, covered in Logan’s notes and Patton’s pictures and Roman’s odd stickynote varying from return my earbuds you heathen to a realistic drawing of a chicken.

He stood in front of Logan’s door, eyeing the straight white and blue lines. They really needed to paint over this, it didn’t encompass Logan at all. Roman had a few ideas... maybe he would tell Logan, while he was here.

Roman knocked. “Logan?” he called out, puffing his chest to make his voice sound bigger. “It’s time to emerge from hibernation!”

Nothing.

Roman blinked a few times. Was Logan not in his room? But then, where else would he be? “Logan? Look, I’m sorry I was going back and forth with you on the blue and pink colors, it was so much like the sleeping beauty dress that I couldn’t resist.”

A few more seconds, and Roman frowned. “Are you not in there? Hello?” He knocked a few more times, just to be sure. Maybe he had earbuds in, or something.

The door swung open, Roman’s fist poised, and everything tilted on its axis for three horrible seconds.

“Who...” Roman choked on his words, confusion-fear-bewilderment filling his veins. “Who are you?”

They didn’t move, eyes open and unblinking, a striking silver color. “I am not a who. I am a what. I am Logic.”

Something small and dark twinged in Roman’s chest and he shook his head. “No. No, you’re not. Where’s Logan?”

“At the present moment, I am uncertain.” A channel of silver lit up their cheekbones, like wires in a circuit board. “Logan did not tell me where he was going, only that he was.”

“Logan is Logic, you’re... you’re not Logic,” Roman said again, shivering. This was wrong, this was wrong. “Why are you here?”

“I am the manifestation of Thomas Foley Sanders’s Logic, intended to add reasoning to certain discussions.”

“No, Logan is,” Roman tried. They didn’t blink, which was really starting to unnerve him on a whole different level. “I don’t understand.”

They regarded him for a moment. “Very well. I will expound. Logan created me ten minutes and thirteen point three seconds ago. He used the mindscape to do so.”

Roman flinched. Logan created something. Logan created... he swallowed, throat thick.

They – Logic? – continued. “The former Logic said, ”You are Logic. You know your purpose. There are others like you, but they do not know you yet.“ When I inquired of his being, he stated, ”I am nothing.“ This is paradoxical situation, so I sought to remedy his flawed thinking. He said, ”You see? I am vanishing.“ His fingers disappeared into the air, of a way I am thus uncertain. I called him this ”Logic“, as you did, but he corrected my flawed verbiage and stated, ”No. I was.“ Soon after his statement, the rest of his body vanished. I have been standing in the room, collecting data for my success here. Evidently, the former Logic knew his job was being fulfilled incorrectly, and decided to find a solution. I was created as the solution.”

Roman couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. “What?”

“Would you like me to repeat?”

“No, no,” Roman stuttered, out. “No. No, Logan wouldn’t... how did he make you? How?”

“From the data I have obtained,” they said, still not blinking or moving, as if they were a picture on a background, “the former Logic gathered the essence of Logic into a singular being from the data of the mindscape. He inserted that being with a silver strand – of which I am uncertain of the reason – and gave the being life.”

“The silver,” Roman whispered, realization dawning in his eyes. “The silver is the connection to Thomas, you need it to be one of his sides, I’ve never heard of... transferring, or whatever he did...”

Roman fell quiet, the silence deafening to his ears. Logic hadn’t invited him into Logan’s room, though Roman wondered if Logic knew common societal practices, or if he was merely... a computer. A vessel.

A thought struck him and Roman’s spine shot ramrod straight. He stared at Logic intently, just barely stopping himself from grabbing their shoulders and shaking (just to get some movement, some life). “The golden string. What did he do with it?”

A few seconds passed as they processed this. “I am in no possession of a golden strand.”

“But where – where–” Roman stopped, took a breath, and reworded his sentence. “What did he look like before he disappeared? Did he glow, or were his eyes a different color? His veins?”

Roman counted one, two, three, four, five before Logic spoke. “The former Logic had skin much lighter than a healthy human being, being transparent and pale. His veins were not red or blue but a copper, gold color. His eyes were brown, but the irises had lines of gold within them, which steadily took over the entire iris.”

Roman lost his breath and almost fell, holding himself against the wall with one hand. “He’s... he...” Oh my god.

“Is the golden strand important to my functions?” Logic stated more than asked.

“Not... not your functions, but it’s... it’s his entire personality, his memories, his feelings,” Roman said, the words thick and heavy in his mouth.

“Very well,” they said, and asked no further questions, a silence that gave Roman a whiplash he never thought he’d feel. His curiosity, his wit...

And then it struck him.

“Oh, no, Logan,” Roman murmured, eyes wide and unblinking. Logan hadn’t left any untied odds and ends, had he? The “essence” of logic in a different being, and his extra jobs, the ones that required a personality, that required feeling, he pushed... pushed onto Roman. And, undoubtedly, part of Virgil, part of Patton... they all carried a little bit of Logan in them, now.

Roman had Logan’s scathing wit, his quick comebacks.

He didn’t want them.

“The gold,” Roman said. “When he vanished, did he have a mirror on him? A shard of glass?”

“I am uncertain.”

“And you don’t have any desire to learn? To figure it out? Wrack your brain?”

“I do not have desire,” they said so plainly that Roman wanted to cry.

“Okay, I need to... I need,” Roman gestured a bit with his hand, thoughts running a mile a minute. “Mirror mirror on the wall...” his mirror appeared in his hand moments later, gilded with gold and an intricate handle. Roman clutched it like a parched man to water. “Show me Logan.”

The mirror swirled, disney-esque to his name, before revealing a vague fog with a shimmer of gold. One moment there, gone the next, leaving just... gray.

But it was there.

Roman was certain of it.

“He’s still alive,” Roman murmured. The mirror, if it had not been made of impenetrable thought, would have cracked under the pressure of his hands. “He’s still alive.”

“The former Logic did not erase himself?” the other Logic asked.

“No, he’s still there, just his personality and thoughts and memories,” Roman said. “He didn’t erase himself. He moved himself into the mindscape. He did the sides version of moving far, far away.”

“He should have. He cannot take up space in the mindscape,” Logic said.

“His personality isn’t much space at all,” Roman said. “The mindscape is neigh endless. You know this.”

“You make a valid point. I concede,” Logic said. Roman frowned. Agreement so fast?

“But that means he’s still there,” Roman said. “He’s alive. And that means we can find him.”

“Are you certain he wishes to be found?” Logic said.

“No,” Roman said. “But I... I can’t let him just leave. I can’t. The longer he spends in the mindscape, the more he disappears... almost like growing old. I need to... He shouldn’t have left. He’s logic, he’s our logic, and I... I miss him.”

“Very well.” No fighting whatsoever.

Roman took a shuddering breath. An actual mission, with real dangers. An adventure, the romantic side of his brain whispered. Save the damsel in distress. Only, Logan had chosen to disappear into the mindscape.

But Roman couldn’t do nothing. He’d... he’d have to, at least, find him, and talk to him. It wasn’t right for Logan to up and leave without telling the others.

Then it’s decided, then?

“Okay,” Roman said. “Okay. I’m certain.” He squared his shoulders, breathing slowly. “I’m going to get him.”

Logic said nothing, stare blank and emotionless.

Goosebumps rose on Roman’s skin. “But first...” he flicked the mirror, vanishing it into the mindscape. “First, I have to tell the others.”

Logic didn’t move as Roman sunk out. Roman wondered if he’d still be standing there, hours later.

He didn’t know why Logan had left. Why Logan had committed an act so much more thorough, so much more permanent, than Virgil ducking out.

I don’t know why you left.

Roman rose in the living room, drawing Virgil and Patton’s curious gazes.

But I know one thing.

Virgil shot to his feet, entire being buzzing with energy and fear-anxiety-nervousness.

You’re not alone. You’re never alone.

Patton stood slowly, a shaky sort of realization filling his face before Roman had even said a word.

Your family is behind you.

And we’re not leaving you behind.

[bluepluto03]

mcu spiderman rewrite/au i may or may not do

ok so first quick disclaimer! i do not hate the mcu spider man movies in any way!! i actually enjoy them quite a bit and have seen homecoming like 4 times! and i absolutely adore all the actors in the movies, especially tom, zendaya, and jacob 

but the problem w/ the mcu spiderman movies is,,, they’re just not spiderman. at least from a writing/thematic perspective, which sucks bc so much other stuff about them is great! like tom holland is the perfect peter parker, which is why it seems so close to being right, but with the way the script is actually written... it’s just. not spider-man. 

i feel the need to explain all this/my problems w/ the movies b4 i get into the actuall au idea/plot, so please bear with me for a sec

for context, I’ve loved spiderman my whole life. i’d watch the cartoons when i was younger, and then went back and watched them all again when i was a bit older and figured out how to pirate stuff lol. i didn’t really know how to get into the comics, so i just kinda read wikis and got second-hand info from fanfics and the other movies

to me, spiderman, (at least, peter parker spiderman,) was always about like... a kid, who saw the world was broken and fixed it because he could. he had the power to fix stuff, so he did. 

as a kid w/ mental illness and a not so great home life... that was something really really important to me. to see another kid out there, who’s been through some shit, but finally has the power to make stuff better, so he is! and it would make me think, maybe i can change stuff for the better, someday, if i just get my chance

but,,,,, the problem is mcu peter parker isn’t that. 

instead of becoming spiderman bc he knows there’s bad in the world and wants to fix it, suddenly his motivation is impressing tony stark?? and don’t get me wrong i don’t hate tony, but the way they wrote his and peter’s relationship basically trapped peter. he could no longer be his own hero, bc he was tony’s successor. and that's never who peter parker’s spiderman was?? he was never a follower, he was a trendsetter. he didn’t become spiderman for approval, hell he had dozens of newspapers constantly slandering him. 

honestly the following in someone else’s footsteps thing was always a miles morales thing. he had to step up to the plate and fill the shoes of a spiderman who had already existed for years and was beloved by the whole city. obviously thats not all he is and simplifying his character to that is incredibly obtuse, but i bring it up bc tbh alot of stuff w/ mcu peter parker is just straight-up ripped off from miles morales. like how peter now goes to a fancy private school, is no longer poor (which is a huge thing w/ peter parker’s character in like every other incarnation), has a living father figure, and is bffs w/ ned, who is a straight-up rip off of miles’s best friend ganke. (for the record tho i adore ned and jacob i’m def keeping him in my rewrite,,,, also i’m glad he’s in the movie bc having a plus sized poc protagonist thats not constantly mocked is incredible) 

so, i’m complaining about all this stuff lol but ur probably wondering how exactly how i wanna fix it lol,,,, 

first, give peter an arc thats more than just..... i want tony to believe in me. my idea for that is basically a type of thing where he learns to rely on others! bc like... peter isn’t good at working w/ others lol, he’d much rather do it all himself so no one else gets hurt. (like in the andrew garfield movies where he just,,,, webs his gf to a car so she can’t run into danger lmao) 

the plot would start at a similar ish position to homecoming, though tony never recruits peter for civil war. tbh not sure if it even happened but we’ll disscuss that later

peter’s been spiderman for a few months, after a trip to oscorp left him w/ a radioactive spider bite. currently no one knows about it, and he’s doing a pretty ok job of dealing w/ everything on his own. until he takes down a big bad, lets say rhino for now, and gains a ton of publicity. after stooping a hudge disaster he’s suddenly in the limelight, and catches the attention of one norman osborn, aka the green goblin 

now, quick sidenote. green goblin is genreally seen as pretty goofy, but there are comic versions of him that are legit terrifying. if im being honest i didn’t even know about that version until i read aloneintherains fic birds eating other birds so ig thats kinda ish how i’m imagining this version of norman? though alot more composed, like the man who could someday turn into that 

so norman becomes intrested in my boy peter, and starts sending ppl after him. possibly the sinister 6, but uhh maybe not bc tbh i think this “rewrite” needs to be split into 2 “movies”/works and i might wanna save that for the hypothetical pt2 (btw if i write this it won’t b for a while cause i got other stuff going on but ig if ppl are intrested i might write some snippits/make more content for it) 

so basically the main plot is peter dealing w/ all these big bads on his own, doing ok at first but later getting really fucked up, and eventually revealing himself to ned and mj which ends up being the only way he can save the day in the end. by relying on others! yay!! 

thats it for the main plot, but don’t worry y’all we got other stuff going on too lmao 

so, for one. my boy peter is realizing he has a crush and just,,,, freaking tf out. (i have yet to decide if it’s on ned or mj. or both. sue me) the crush isn’t definitely resolved in p1, but i imagine there’d be some cute thing of him suddenly realizing and freaking out and almost revealing his powers. 

thing 2! tony stark! he is still in here, and still a mentor to peter, but in a pretty drastically different way. one, he doesn't know about peter being spiderman. he doesn't even suspect it lmao. he just gets involved bc of.... some sort of reason bc peter is so smart. do i know why just yet? no. does it matter? probably but i’m writing this pretty late after i had school all day so i’m too tired to care 

bc tony basically gives peter a real internship/mentorship type thing, peter now has access to all this tech!! and all these funds!! fucking lit!! so he changes from his pajama suit to the fancy one, tho he actually built it!! which i feel like him making his suit is a really big really important part of his character. so it doesn't really have all those random things tony added, tho peter might add stuff himself. he gets Karan as a like assistant ai as part of his internship but she never gets put into the suit

for the fist part tony plays a super minor role but like,,,, the first part is about osborn taking an intrest in him, and him confiding in ned and mj. the second part norman is become progressively more dangorus and peter has to fight him and stuff, kinda proving he is strong enough to be spiderman/be trusted to the whole world, beyond just ned and mj. also him actually getting together w/ either one or both of them bc...... bc i want that. 

oh btw idk if tony finds out or not in p2? if he does it’s either at the end or in a scene like the one w/ may bc like. please imagine the shenanigans of peter and ned (who both have high intellegence but low wisdom) in tony’s lab, obviously trying to hide the fact that peter’s spiderman. like he walks in on them and peter looks all frumpy bc he’s been trying to change real fast, and ned’s shirt is messed up bc he just stuffed the mask down the front of it, and mj is just. chilling behing them. so tony just like assumes stuff and is like....aight.... have fun.... 

oh btw the last big change that i didn’t really have anyway to insert natrually into this,,,, so remember how i said ned was kinda a ripoff of ganke? well, the writers claim he’s a “composite character” so i figured, why not give him traits from other famous spiderman side character so he actually is a composite character! 

so like,,,, throughout p1 it’s referenced that ned has a kinda dickish estranged ish dad that he hates and his mom doesn't really like but kinda forces him too... theres some mentions of his dad wanting him to transfer to a private school and being kinda rich, bur he dosen’t want to bc he knows his dad is a total dickead,,,, anyway end of the movie we find out norman osborn is ned’s dad, and ned hates him even fucking more bc it’s like bitch?? u tried to get my (maybe) bf murdered?? tf?? and its lowkey bc he can’t reveal peter’s id, but then in p2 after norman takes matters into his own hands and tries to kill peter on his own ned just fucking yells at him while the man is in jail and is like fuck u lmao 

soooo thats my really messy au idea!! i’m really tired sorry if this is hard to understand or rude! for the record i have nothing against the ppl who adore these movie’s, i just think they could be better! 

[unkn0wnl0v3]

Day 8 ✿ Sep 22 ‘20

I just talked to Cat all morning about like books and philosophy. I like books and philosophy ALOT. I like it more than fish and water. If I could I’d have my own private library. Agh! I fucking love books. I also really like fish and aguaculture. Jobs I’d commit to when I’m older is editor, fish breeder or teacher. However downsides to that job is: editing is a job that might not be alive in a few years, fish breeding is hard and expensive if you don’t have a market and teaching may also be an obsolete occupation in less than a decade. Personally these jobs would be good if it was like the >2000’s. Now every job will either kill you or die before it can. Maybe like a teacher in a private school or a freelance editor. However those jobs are hell if you choose to work for the wrong people. So fuck it I’ll be a fish breeder. Even though School marm for a private school sounds amazing. And editors can read all day. I have Mr today. I’m excited cause he’s always fun to have(09:10)

‘Sorry for only letting you know now but I will be staying in your class. I thought about it and realized two things. 1. I get low test scores regarding state tests, so that’s probably why I’m not in an honors class. Besides this if my state test scores are that not good then maybe I should be in a regular English class. 2. If I worked my butt off and did the quality of my work like that consistently It’s really crazy to me that test scores make me end up in a class totally different than what my mind needs or whatever; so I’ve met the conclusion that If it’s not the test that got me here or just like human error is that Fate and the universe(or god if you believe in them or whatever you think makes the world go spin) needs me to be in this class. Whether it’s to meet you, or a classmate. Number 2 is a pretty complex philosophical idea however I believe in it more than everything else. Also I purchased Flowers for Algernon a while ago and it only came recently. From my memory in your slide thing it said you liked it(?). Well it’s very good so far and it’s making my brain do a lot of thinking. Like my brain is literally imploding from reading it and thinking about all the other questions it indirectly acts. So that’s just a side note I wanted to add cause I’ve only had it since yesterday and I’ve already rambled on about for like over an hour to a friend who hasn’t even read it.. and I’m not even done yet! Oh well see you in a bit:)’... I wrote this to D in regards for the whole not switching out. I truly did forget about ever buying this book for five bucks on thrifted books back in like August. And I had only remembered buying it after he added it to his slide thing about like getting to know him. I kinda hate like having to have so many ideas and stuff in my head. Like right now I have so much in my head. Three key things are the philosophy of love, god and science. Those three are always in my head but for some reason everything’s just touching and mingling. I feel like I’m disappointing people who I should love but is it any matter if I disappoint them cause they never loved me before. Love is complex whether it’s sexual or romantic or all of the above. How can I like my teacher. He’s just a school teacher who’ll dissapear from my life before I know it. However what if it is fate.. God and science always correspond when trying to understand one of the other. Like what I’m thinking right now is if interfering with gods stuff really is worth it. Like if we hate gmo corn so much why are we trying to fix genetic disorders or mental stuff idk. I’ll say more later I’m too hungry to think.. (12:46)

This class is like boring as fuck. I like him as a person and as a teacher BUT I DO NOT LIKE HIS CLASSSSSSSSS. If I like consume his class outside of class yes fun nice wow! But if it’s in Class this fucking zoom SHOOT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like when I talk to him outside of Class it’s fun it’s wow:) but this Class makes me want to die. I wish it was Face to Face Class so I could just daydream about eating him out. However i can only see his Face and his hopelessness during these zooms. Fuck me. (13:16)

Yk i’ll be so bored but I never fucking listen in Class. Maybe if I listened Class would be less boring. (13:27)

Oh my God im so Smart, well we know that already but i was the only one who got this dumbass question right. Like im literally amazed at how dumb these people are. Wow! I Love this Class. Im Smart as fuck (♡´౪`♡)(14:11)

Earlier I went to Petsmart with my dad and we got the biggest most beautiful fish tank. I’ve already added rocks and two little accessories. As for the lights and filter I just finished working on it. It was hard as fuck to do everything but I got it done so I’m happy:)... I’m so excited to get fish and enjoy the tank and have a cute little pet(s)! I wonder what D’s favorite pet is. He seems like a dog person who grew up with cats all his life.. but would never own a dog irl. He’s a turtle dude I bet:D!! I was talking to Cat and she was joking over my type. And I was like “guys that do the dishes and do chores” like my standards are so low a seven year old could reach them. However they’d also have to be able to discuss topics and ideas I find interesting. I couldn’t date someone who was dense or uninspired by the lack of answers in the universe. I think that’s a big thing for me, someone who can talk to me about things that other people try to avoid. That’s why I’d fall for a teacher. I can only see them as knowing plenty of not all. So I’d have to have faith that they can have these convos. So I chose the hottest young blonde of all my teachers and called it a day. Ah Im fucking tired(22:30)

[rorykillmore]

so today is @firelxdykatara‘s birthday!!!! she asked for a fic with natasha in it, and i thought, well, villanelle went home a few days ago on denny but we never got to rp her’s and nat’s reunion. so i did a little fic of it!!! i hope you enjoy, kitty (and i hope i wrote nat okay, im love her) because i do adore this dynamic and i am just so happy we’ve gotten the chance to build it together as much as we have

also, have a wonderful wonderful birthday!!!  i know this is not exactly the easiest time of year to be celebrating, but keep your chin up and know that you have friends who love you and certainly love getting to spend a little bit of extra time with you. you have lifted my mood more times than you know by just being around and making me laugh, so i hope i can return the favor <3

Natasha is telling her little parts are enough, and oddly and inexplicably, Vilanelle thinks just then that maybe this is the safest she’s ever felt with another person.

The house is quiet the night Villanelle finally goes home. For a moment, she stands there out on the front porch and just breathes in the familiarity, the smell of the ocean and fire pits from down at the beach on the breeze, the sound of waves crashing against the shore in the distance. It soothes her, even if imagining what might be waiting for her inside does not.

With her and Draco gone, maybe Natasha and Fox have already cleared out. Personally, Villanelle doesn’t see grief or mourning as very good reasons not to live in a gorgeous and expensive mansion, but people and their emotions can be so unpredictable sometimes.

Maybe they are just out doing something. Maybe they are planning her funeral. Villanelle had considered further delaying her return for the sole reason that it would be incredibly fun and dramatic to crash her own funeral.

But barring that, she should probably stop standing here wondering about it and actually go inside, she figures. So she steps up to the door, and --

Damn it. 

It’s only when she tries the handle that she remembers she does not exactly have a key on her. To her own goddamn house. Wonderful.

Villanelle steps off the porch in favor of prowling the perimeter of the house instead, making for the pool deck in the back. Neither she nor her roommates are exactly the “hide a spare key under the doormat” type (they are all much too paranoid for that), but fuck, what is she, an amateur? If she cannot even break into her own home?

She’s just trying to figure out a way to do it without having to pay a window repair man -- and that’s when she rounds the corner of the mansion and sees that she was wrong.  The house is not completely dark.

There is a light on in (what she estimates with a fair amount of confidence, considering how long she’s been here) Natasha’s window.

And suddenly, Villanelle gets the perfect idea.

Experimentally, she grips some of the ivy casing crawling along the wall and, once she’s sure it’s not going to give, she starts to climb. Natasha’s bedroom is only on the second floor, thankfully, so it’s not like she has to make it the whole way. When she gets up to the window, she pauses briefly to readjust herself before giving it a quick tap. She doesn’t even detect any movement in response, but she knows that’s most likely because Natasha is smart enough not to put herself in plain view of a potential intruder.

Sure enough, the curtain gets pulled back a second later, though, and Villanelle finds herself face to face with her friend with only a panel of glass to separate them.

Natasha stares.

Villanelle grins, and uses her free hand to give her a little wave.

She holds her position as Natasha finally seems to remember herself, unlocking the window and pulling it open, and by way of greeting --  “You... realize you could have knocked.”

“I did,” Villanelle responds innocently.  “Technically.”

“At the door.”

“I thought you would respect me making an entrance.”

Natasha’s lips twitch, like she wants to smirk, but she doesn’t.  Maybe she’s still a little too rattled. Villanelle will have to try harder. But that will have to wait until she actually climbs inside, which she does carefully when Natasha moves back in clear invitation.

“Surprised to see me?”  she asks once she’s steadily back on her feet, offering Natasha a crooked grin.

Natasha doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she first takes a moment to study Villanelle, who studies her right back, taking a quiet sort of delight in how good she’s gotten at reading Natasha’s usually inscrutable expressions.

She takes less delight in the troubled shadow of sadness she sees in Natasha’s eyes, but... well, what can she do? She can’t take back the fact that she was forced into the Games. Or the fact that she died there. 

“There were rumors some of the tributes were coming back,” Natasha finally responds. “But the RID hasn’t gotten anywhere close to verifying all of them.  So... yes.”  She gives Villanelle a tired sort of smile.  

Unexpectedly, Villanelle wants to reach out to her.  That’s a relatively new impulse -- so far, she’s shied away from too much physical contact with most of her reunions, or at the very least being the one to initiate it. Maybe the difference here is that Nat has always been so unexpectedly grounding for Villanelle -- not that she would ever be sappy enough to put that into words. But --

-- In some ways, it’s only now that she’s here with Natasha that it finally registers that she’s home.

She curbs her impulse and sits down on the edge of Natasha’s bed instead, shrugging.  “It was a surprise to me too,” she admits simply. Understatement of the century, but that part probably doesn’t need to be said.

Carefully, quietly, Natasha sits down beside her.  “...I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, because at this point that’s a stupid question.”

Villanelle hums in agreement.

“But depending on your level of... not okay, I’m...  you know. I’m here.”

And Villanelle supposes that she wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of scaling the wall to climb in through Natasha’s bedroom window if she had not, on some level, wanted her to be. She considers for another stretch of silence before she attempts a response.  “...You know what it’s like.”  Perhaps not the Hunger Games specifically, but extreme conditions of survival, endless cycles of violence, trauma? Villanelle is sure Natasha’s on the same page.  “Sometimes it is best to just compartmentalize and move on.”

Natasha exhales slowly, but there’s nothing remotely judgmental in her expression.  “It’s certainly easiest,” she agrees, without pushing. Villanelle instinctively relaxes a fraction.  “Especially since you haven’t exactly had a lot of privacy over the last few weeks. It’s just... sometimes it’s also good to have people you don’t have to hide everything from.”

It’s the way Natasha says it that makes Villanelle pause before just shoving the idea away completely. Most other people, Villanelle knows, would have said “you can talk to me” or “you don’t have to hide from me” or some bullshit like that, expecting her to open up like a book waiting to be read.

But Natasha knows that for people like them - people who have worn and shed the skins of many, many different personas, who may not even know who they really are if they dig deep enough underneath all that - it’s not such an easy thing to do. An impossibility, even, to give someone the whole of yourself, or even just the whole of a singular feeling, when you are so used to only chipping off and offering little parts.

Natasha is telling her little parts are enough, and oddly and inexplicably, Vilanelle thinks just then that maybe this is the safest she’s ever felt with another person. She sighs, and then laughs, the sound rusty with disuse.  “It feels weird. Giving your life for someone else.  Not good. Not special.”

Silence answers her briefly as Natasha turns to stare at the wall opposite, her mouth twisting wryly, sadly.  “...Yeah. I know what you mean.”

And she does, Villanelle realizes belatedly. Everything before the Games feels so much further away now, but she still remembers that ridiculous future marriage they’ve both avoided talking about. And she still remembers what Natasha told her, even if she has been trying to do Natasha the courtesy of pretending that she didn’t.

“I know what you did in there must go against all of your instincts. And everything you’ve been taught,” Natasha starts, her voice hitched with just enough emotion for Villanelle to know she’s speaking from experience.  “...But you made your own choice. And you did it for someone you love. And whatever else you want to think about it, Villanelle, that still proves that you are so much more than just anything anyone could train you to be. Than every fucked up thing you’ve been through.”

Villanelle swallows without saying anything and stares down at her hands. It makes her think of what Natasha said before, when she had described the sacrifice she��d made for Clint.  That she was broken. Villanelle has never thought of herself as “broken”, at least not in any kind of self-deprecating way, but she feels a little bit like she is now.

Mostly, though, she thinks about how Natasha came here after dying. How Natasha has probably not had anyone to tell her these things.  And Villanelle, surely, would not be very good at it if she tried, but...

...She finally reaches out the way she wants to, and squeezes one of Nat’s hands with her own. “So are you,”  she asserts firmly, determinedly, staring back at Natasha with all the adoration she can still muster (surprisingly, a lot, even given how exhausted she is) as if she can single-handedly, telepathically convince Natasha of how amazing she is.

And when Natasha squeezes her hand back tightly, Villanelle thinks, maybe she can’t fix everything for Nat just like Nat can’t fix everything for her. 

But maybe they can do it in little parts, just like everything else.

[confetti-bones]

Boss 1

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader X Jimin

Genre: Office au, Ceo Yoongi, Boss Jimin, there might be smut I don't know yet.

Warnings: Swearing

A/n: Hey everyone! I decided to make an office au thing of Yoongi and Jimin, I hope you all like it. If any of you want to be added to a taglist just let me know...

 You've been working for the Min company for years.

    You were a hard worker that's never taken a vacation or sick day. Not that you didn't want to, but it's more like you couldn't.

     You had bills and student loans to pay. You simply just didn't have the money to take vacation. You even had to do overtime almost everyday; and don't forget your second job.

    You sighed as you worked on another nonrealistic article of some celebrity couple.

   The Min company is a magazine company. The company basically sells crappy gossip magazines that likes to spread false rumors.

    It hadn't always been this way.

     Before the the company decided to start this magazine, The Min company was just a normal book publisher.

    They sold fantastic stories that you loved to read, and that's what made you decide that you wanted to write and work for this company.

    A little after you were hired the quality of the books went down. Ceo Min got greedy and decided to make the gossip magazine that you write for today; seeing that it made more money and was more popular at the time then the wonderful stories that your co workers made.

    Thus why your here now.

     As you worked on your article you heard a door slam shut. So you looked up to see your co worker Kim Seokjin barge out of Ceo Mins office, clearly frustrated. 'the Ceo must of yelled at him again' you think as you watched Seokjin stomp back to his desk.

      You felt yourself feel a tiny bit of sympathy for the man, but quickly discarded it with a small shake off your head.

     Seokjin was a suck up. He constantly tried to get on the Ceo's good side, following Ceo Min around making sure he had everything that he needed and wanted; and when he wasn't following the companies Ceo around he would be arrogant and brag. You've personally never had a conversation with him, but you've overheard him talking to coworkers, and you can confidently say that you don't want to talk to him.

    As you were lost in your thoughts, you mindlessly stared at Seokjin for a few minutes not realizing that he noticed your stare until he was in front of you with a smirk on his face.

       "I know I'm handsome, but that doesn't mean you should stare at me like that" Seokjin says. You sit quietly unsure of what to say.

     "Do you not have manners? It's rude to not respond when someone is talking to you," Seokjin says annoyed.

   "Ah sorry…. I just wasn't expecting you to talk to me" you mumble.

  "Oh? Well I'm glad you know better, I usually wouldn't speak to someone so-" Seokjin then takes a second to look at your outfit for a few seconds,

      "Poor looking. You look like trash. The only reason I'm here us to tell you to keep your eyes on your work. I don't need someone so gross staring at me. I'm surprised that you even got hired. Ceo Min has high expectations you know, and that's why he hired me." Seokjin says arrogantly. You felt a little bad about his words but try not to think about it to much mumbling a quick apology and turning to face your work.   

   Seokjin scoffs and says,

  "Ugh I should report you to human services, your so rude and annoying" before walking off back to his desk.

    As soon as Seokjin was gone you give a quick sigh of relief before continuing to work wishing that you could go home.

     After a while of working you heard a door open to see the companies very own Ceo walk out. He had a coffee mug in his hand and a tired expression as he started to walk towards the break room.

   As he headed towards the break room Seokjin shot up from his desk and walked over to the Ceo with what seemed to be a fake smile.

   "Hello Ceo Min, do you want me to get some coffee for you?" Seokjin asks holding his hand out ready to take the coffee mug from the Ceo.

      Ceo Min sighs and rolls his eyes taking a quick glance around the room before looking at Seokjin again.

    "No I want you to work. I wanted your article about that one celebrity scandal done two days ago. You have yet to finish it because you've been so busy kissing my ass." Ceo Min says bluntly. Seokjin chuckle's at this and Ceo Min looks at him blankly for a few minutes before saying,

     "Get to work or I'll fire you Seokjin."  walking off. Seokjin shakes his head and sighs mumbling something about never getting fired before sitting in his seat again.

    Some people giggle at the interaction while others start to work again.

   While you worked you heard yelling from the break room. 'Ceo Min must be having a fit again' you sigh.

   Ceo Min is a very successful man. He started the company you worked at, and managed to make millions from it.

     Ceo Min was just as arrogant as Kim Seokjin if not more, for obvious reasons. He seemed to only care about making money.

      If an article an employee wrote wasn't good enough, he'd have the employee come to his office, and he'd scream at them, constantly making them redo their work till he considered it perfect.

     You'd like to say that you haven't had to go through that same treatment but you did; and it was terrifying. You went a full week of the Ceos yelling before you managed to make an article that he deemed perfect.

      Hours went by with you typing away and looking at your computer screen, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. You sigh and look up to see one of the floor supervisors, Hoseok.

      Hoseok, was arrogant and rude like the other two men mentioned, but still just a slightly bit nicer.

   Out of all the higher-ups in the office he was the most bearable.

      "Ms.(last name) you've worked overtime almost everyday this week." Hoseok says.

    "Yeah I know. Is there something wrong with that Mr.Jung?" You ask.

     "Yeah we can't have you do overtime like this everyday, there are rules about overworking that we have to follow. So you have to leave now, your official office hours ended ten minutes ago." You sigh and nod your head. Hoseok flashes you a quick what seemed to be fake smile before walking off leaving you to pack up.

   Once you gathered all your stuff you walked to the elevator and got on.

      After a few seconds before the doors close two people get on. The companies Ceo and Kim Namjoon Ceo Mins second hand man. Also the other floor supervisor.

   Kim Namjoon was known as the brains for the company. He was very intelligent with an IQ of one forty eight.

     Namjoon was the guy who made the suggestion to start a magazine company, and he often helped come up with ideas for different sections and articles that could be written.

    When the two men got on the elevator you nodded your head politely before staring at the floor not wanting to make eye contact with either of them.

    There was an awkward silence in the elevator for a few moments before Namjoon decided to speak,

     "Ms.(last name) how has your article been going so far? Is it up to standards?" You stiffened at hearing Namjoon and looked up to see him staring at you.

     "It's going well Mr. Kim" you mumble. Ceo Min looks over to you quizzically.

    "Just well Ms.(last name)? I thought we went over how your article should be perfect a few weeks ago" Ceo Min said bluntly. You took in a breath feeling even more tense then ever.

     "I- umm, It's actually fantastic, I have a few things here and there that I need to fix but my article is actually great. I was just saying that I felt like I was doing a great job at writing it. " You stammered. Ceo Min nodded his head pleased with your answer before pulling out his phone.

    Eventually the elevator hit the bottom floor and the doors open.

     "Mr.Kim make sure Ms.(last name)'s article gets sent to me once she considers it perfect. We all know that her definition of the word is clearly much different from mine" Ceo Min says turning to look at your appearance.

     "Have a goodnight Mr.Kim, Ms.(last name)" the Ceo says before walking out the elevator.

    You turn and give Namjoon a quick nod before scurrying out of the elevator with a sigh, feeling more relaxed now that your out of that situation.

…………………………

  "I'm telling you, Jimin everybody in that office is a dick" you huff while cleaning the bar counter. Jimin laughs at this before saying,

    "Well what are you gonna do? Their all office pricks who only want money."

    "I want money too but I'm not an ass about it." You say walking over to a customer and refilling his drink.

    "Sorry to tell you this sweetheart but that's just how some people are",

   "Hey (y/n) can I get a beer for table six?" Jungkook says walking up to the counter.

   You nod your head and grab a beer  handing it to Jungkook.

    "So what are you complaining about now? Do you have to write another one of those fake scandal articles?" Jungkook asks scrunching up his face.

     "No, well yes but that's not what im complaining about. Just the usual bosses." Jungkook nods his head.

    "Am I a boss you complain about (y/n)?" Jimin asks playfully. You shake your head,

   "No if anything you're probably my favorite boss" you sigh. Jimin makes a noise of delight and gives you a cute smile,

     "Awwwww, your my favorite too (y/n). Come here so I can give you a hug." Jimin says holding his arms open. You giggle and shake your head, and Jungkook looks over at Jimin offended,

"Hey what about me!" Jungkook says. Just as Jimin's about to respond, you hear someone yell,

    "Hey where's my beer?!" Jungkook sighs and shakes his head.

   "My customer is already getting impatient I better go" you nod your head and turn back to Jimin.

   "I should probably go too (y/n) I have some paperwork, to fill out and I can't distract you from anymore customers." Jimin smiles. You nod your head and smile back before Jimin walks away to the back room of the bar leaving you alone.

   This is your second job. You work as a bartender for the bar Serendipity. Overall the job was really nice. You got lots of tips and enjoyed your fellow coworkers. Not to mention at this job your boss is actually nice and sweet.

  Your bosses name is Park Jimin. He's a handsome carefree man. Jimin was given the bar by his uncle when he was in highschool. His uncle wanted to move away by wasn't willing to let go of his business so he decided to give it to Jimin.

    As soon as Jimin graduated he happily took over the business hiring you and a few other people as well.

    One of those people being Jung Jungkook. Jungkook is still a high school kid himself, but he needed some extra cash to help pay for a car he's been wanting so he decided to take up a job as a waiter for the bar.

    At first he was really awkward and shy not really speaking to you. Every Time he saw you he'd walk away as fast as he could to try and avoid you, making you feel awful.

    Jimin later revealed to you that Jungkook was slightly scared of girls, and made the poor boy start talking to you, putting the two of you on the same shift so he's have to go to you for orders.

    Later as time went on he slowly grew more comfortable with you and your happy to say that your friends with him now.

    Another employee that works there goes by the name Kim Taehyung.

   He's a college student majoring in art. Taehyung is in charge of cooking in the back so when he's not busy he usually goes to the bar and talks to you occasionally drinking a beer or two.

      Taehyung and you get along fairly well, except for when he pranks you.

   The man doesn't prank you that often anymore, after an incident that happened a few months ago that resulted in him almost being fired, but he occasionally does small pranks like putting too much salt in your food or drink.

      "(Y/n) order ready for table four" Taehyung says placing a plate with a hamburger and fries down.

    "Alright I'll take it down myself." You say grabbing the plate from the counter and walking over to the said table.

    "Here's your order miss" you say setting the food down. The woman who orders says a quick thanks and gives you a smile before you walk back to behind the bar.

     "(Y/n) I need your womanly advice on something" Taehyung says taking a seat on front of you.

     "Don't you have orders to be making?" You sigh.

   "Nope that was my last one." Taehyung says with a grin.

   "Alright hit me"

 "Do you think id look good in the colors blue or pink?" Taehyung asks. You sigh again and look at Taehyung for a few seconds before responding,

    "You'd look good in both, was that your question?"

   "Yay! Yeah it was!" Taehyung says while making jazz hands and giving you his famous boxy grin. You shake your head and smile back at Taehyung.

   As you were about to speak again you suddenly hear a voice,

     "(Y/n)?" You instantly feel yourself stiffen from the familiar voice and turn to look at the person who spoke.

     "Namjoon…."

[luxexhomines]

S

Ahhh, thank you guys so much for asking!! I just compiled them all into one post so I don’t clog up your dash with several posts. Here we go! I’m going to tag this as discourse and put a cut because my answers to the letters might not please everyone, aha. It’s long, too. Major spoilers for NDRV3.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Honestly, I’m not super sure at this point. Surprise, surprise, I only just recently finished watching the rest of NDRV3 and started writing for it. And I haven’t thought about tropes that much, though I’m sure I’ve written plenty of them into my writing at some point, even if not posted on here. 

If we’re going to go Danganronpa-centric, as this is my side blog for Danganronpa writing, I’d say that I fall in love with characters that are contradictory and with seemingly bipolar or gray morals despite probably having morals as straight as an arrow myself, i.e. Nagito or Kokichi. The characters playing “straight man” and relating to the reader’s perspective are also my favorite; in a wacky situation, they offer reason and normal reactions, which I would peg Hajime as (maybe Kazuichi, too, although he’s more of a crybaby). In fanfiction, I just love hurt & comfort fics, especially involving–you guessed it–Kokichi. I am particularly partial to the Oumota chapter 5 and chapter 5 trial rewrites, which, lucky for me, both of which are quite often rewritten by spectacular writers.

If we’re going in general, I always end up reading manga with an independent, strong and decisive character that crosses worlds and/or bodies by accident or death and becomes incredibly powerful/influential in the world and dominates over other characters with skills ranging from cooking to fighting. I guess I read a lot of manhua with martial arts or other manga with game aspects to it.Writing-wise, I love reading slow burn fics, even if I haven’t read one in quite some time. 

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

I have a feeling this is going to go into highly controversial areas, so if you ultra ship Kaito x Maki, please turn away now...

I just hate that “man saves woman” from herself or traumatic past trope. Don’t get me wrong, I love hurt/comfort like I mentioned, but to specify, what I mean is when a strong and independent woman needs saving by a man. I realize Maki has a lot of issues from her past as an assassin and that Kaito is a viable, good option for helping her out and facing those issues, but the fact of him being a man and the way he just swoops in and fixes things forcefully by pulling her along for training just irks me. And before you ask, yes, if Kaede did it instead as a woman I would have less of a problem with it, even if I don’t like that somehow after a couple days of training together Maki somehow is better able to get along with others and most notably Shuichi despite having spent the previous entire time cooped up in her Ultimate room alone, is willing to use her experience as an assassin to help out with the investigation when she just walked out in the past, etc. Problems from a past like that would never be so easily faced in reality; people and their minds are much more stubborn than we’d like to think, too. 

In general, I am also highly averse to the Women in Refrigerators trope. To some extent, I feel that Kaede fits this trope, as a.) she is an important, pivotal, incredibly fleshed out female character and even the initial protagonist of ndrv3, b.) she dies arbitrarily for a murder she did not commit, c.) a big part of her death is written into Shuichi’s character development for making him grow as the protagonist (he sheds the cap, faces the truth, and the memory of Kaede’s last wishes serves as his support to reveal the truth several times in trial), and of course, d.) her death in the execution is grotesque as befitting of a Danganronpa execution. Kaede deserved so. much. more.

There are probably more out there, but I won’t mention them for the sake of length & time. 

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Okay! So don’t hate me for this, but I haven’t been really keeping up a bunch with fanfiction writers or specific ones that much. It just hasn’t ever been a habit of mine in the past to follow one writer–ironic, I know. There’s one that immediately comes to mind, but she’s not part of the Danganronpa fandom, so unless someone asks, I’ll leave her out of it. However, there are a couple of writers that I recently discovered through the Oumota weekend event and which I follow on my main blog, and I thoroughly enjoy reading their work. Their work also contains mentions of NDRV3 spoilers!

1. @kirastrations

I recently reblogged her work on this blog because I have so much love for the Oumota fic she wrote (which deserves more love!). It’s called One by One, One After Another, and I simply adore the way she writes Kaito’s character and experiences with the other characters throughout the game and the overarching feeling that comes across as a result of the situation and what ensues. The diction choices she makes is absolute art; I see the imagery so clearly in my head, and not a single word of hers is wasted. It’s concise while being aptly and most beautifully descriptive. Even though I’m not a huge fan of Kaito, the way she writes him and his actions make me love him. I would describe the work as a futile yet desperate and exquisite struggling, an embodiment of angst that is so beautifully painful that it appears to be an illusion. I haven’t had a chance to check out other works from her just yet, but that’s on my to-do list!

2. @golden-redhead

I love, love, love their work too. They recently posted Lavender, a Kirumi x Kaede (Tojomatsu? Kaerumi? Kirumatsu?) work for femslash Feb, and it is a post-reality Virtual AU short fic. The way they write the interaction between Kirumi and Kaede offers such a delicate, carefully constructed image and story while creating some tension between the two. They also format the story with Kirumi’s thoughts in a simple and straightforward way that is just so delicious to read. Aspects of Kirumi explored are small things that unravel into a bigger statement about her character and the nature of the killing game and the impact it has left on her. It reminds me of the way a player might gently stack up a house of cards–attentively, with a sharp eye and feel. 

3. @starlightwritesalie

They wrote these two Oumota fics for the weekend that I fell in love with, especially the one for Day 1: Heroes/Villains. Sometimes when living in the world of Danganronpa, you forget that these tragic situations and the killing game are experienced, in essence, by children. You can argue that they’re older than high schoolers for the first two games, but mentally they are still high schoolers, and let’s face it–a couple years above the legal age of being an adult in America, 18, can hardly be counted as an adult, either. They reminded me of that sickening fact so poetically yet bluntly, and the story they write only serves as a further reminder of that fact. They write statements about the situation and how the pair act in the situation that are so agonizing yet irrefutable–as is the situation that they’re both trapped in. The ending is so unbearably cruel, packed with pain, but the way they create it is so decisively soft and snatches away my breath with the truth at the heart of the game, the situation. 

So there you have it! Sorry that my answers are so long... I have too much to say, and especially about the people whom I adore. Since it said to pick 3, I didn’t get to include these two, but I also love aroseandapen and mystic-mints dearly. If you ask, I’ll write a whole paragraph on why I love them, too, although I suspect by this time you all are getting rather tired of all my talking, haha. I also didn’t include imagines blogs, but if you’re curious, feel free to ask about that since I am still kind of a imagines blog! I guess at this point I’m kind of a fusion of an imagines blog and normal fanfiction writing blog.

Thanks for asking, and if you have any more questions, feel free to shoot an ask!

[wallas-dinston]

Hello! So this is another excerpt from the fanfic I wrote a while ago. For context, the POV is from Sunshine Curtis, middle child of the Curtis siblings, who had a relationship with Johnny Cade. This is the end of the story as she is working through her emotions. Please let me know if you like it!

I passed Darry as he walked through the door, stepping outside for fresh air. The sun was setting. The intricate swirls of orange and pink seemed to set a golden blanket across the town. It was beautiful. I wished I could stay that way forever. I cried silently, until Pony saw me and stopped me. He sat down next to me silently, but had an expectant look on his face. I didn't know how to put how I was feeling into words. It was almost too much for me alone.

“It's over. They're gone. But I can't stop fighting it! I'm tired. I'm tired of letting all the emotions overtake me. But I don't know how to stop. I can never just stop. I always have to push everything.” I wailed. I was frustrated and desperate and dejected. Pony grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes, calming me.

“Sunshine Curtis, It is not over. Things will get better in the end. If they aren't better, it isn't the end. Don't beat yourself up. They wouldn't want to see you like that. Now smile. You look better that way.” I grinned at him and wiped my eyes. He was right. Things would change, and things will crush me and burn me and bring me down, but I had to fight through it. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. And I might not be able to see it right now, there might be fog hindering the glow, but the storm will calm and I would make it there. I hugged him strongly, smiling.

“Thank you.” I whispered, walking away. I stepped back inside of the house, reaching my bedroom. I put on the jacket, Johnny’s jacket, and began to exit the house. I knew where I was headed. I walked down the sidewalk, remembering Johnny, his smile, the auburn strands that mixed in with his hair, the way he smelled like earth after rain. His face glinting in the moonlight, the way his eyes sparked when he looked at me. I remembered the feeling I got every time I talked to him, the way his arms felt along my shoulders, the feeling of the grass tickling our feet as we danced under the stars. I remembered the faint golden freckles that dotted his face. I passed the house he cursed and cared for, the house that trapped him, and formed him into who he was. I passed Bucks house, the temporary home of Dallas Winston, a role model, a hoodlum, a friend. A breeze blew past me, circling me. The wind whispered in my ear, filling my head with the sound of Johnny’s laugh, Dally’s quick remarks. Even the officers would miss seeing Dallas. He weaved his way into your life, making it interesting. I walked by the Nightly-Double, feeling the soft denim of Johnny’s jean jacket lying upon my shoulders, the warmth of Johnny’s loving and cute remarks. The gum wrapper notes I stuck in his pocket. I recalled the sound our shoes made as we raced down the pavement, and the way you could hear the smile in his voice when he was happy. That was the way I would remember Johnny, because I was the only one that could get him to open up and talk. Other people would remember him as I saw him in the hospital, as timid, skittish and weak. They would see a puppy that had been kicked too many times. But he was so much more than that. I wanted to remember the side of him that was almost exclusively saved for me. The one that laughed wildly, and was sweet and kind. I passed the empty lot, where our friendship had begun so many years ago.

Me and Darry walked onto the gravel strewn grass of the empty lot. We used it as a shortcut to get home from school sometimes. I passed through the area, noticing a kid, he looked around my age, five, and he was badly injured. I took Darry’s hand, who was responsible for walking me home, and lead him over to the boy. He was slumped up against a tree, with a black eye and multiple other bruises on his body.

“Are you okay?” I asked sympathetically. He looked up at me with large puppy dog eyes, tears lining them. He shook his head no, and I rushed over to him. I looked up at Darry expectantly.

“Im Sunshine. What's your name?” I asked lightheartedly.

“Johnny Cade.” He mumbled.

“Johnnycakes? That's a funny name. I have brothers with funny names too. Sodapop and Ponyboy.” I laughed. He laughed too.

“No. Johnny CADE.” He pronounced. I flushed red from my error. Darry looked concerned, and he was pondering something.

“Maybe you should come home with us. My parents can fix you up.” Darry offered. Johnny looked hesitant, but accepted the offer. He smiled at me and I smiled back as we started down the road towards my house, also known as the Curtis’s.

I smiled from the memory. I looked up from the ground and realized I had reached my final destination. I sat down on the swings we had shared so many talks on. We stated our worries to each other, and always left laughing. The sunset was the richest I had ever seen it, the colors popping from the sky. It felt like Johnny was sending a message, saying hello. A single tear rolled down my cheek, as I held myself. I looked up at the sky, watching the clouds swirl and mix. My heart flooded, and I saw him and all he was in that sunset.

“I love you too, Johnny Cade.” I whispered to the sky, the breeze carrying my words away and through the town, down the roads I knew so well. And as soon as they were spoken they had disappeared, taken away and gone with the wind.

When I was younger I would always try to escape the world; close my eyes and create a dream world, a fantasy. I was caught up in my bedtime stories. Nobody was ever hurt. Nobody left you. It was unrealistic, but I didn't mind. Life was simpler. The whole world seemed to be one block wide and our problems were so small. Goodbye only meant, ‘See you tomorrow!’ And we lived our lives without a worry in the world. I grew up with dirt on my knees and cuts on my elbows. We thought we were cool, smoking and sitting on the curb, trying our best to act tuff. We were full of youthful vigor. We felt invincible. And I liked it that way. It was blissful inside my ignorant mind. I felt so sure of myself. And I never wanted to grow up anyhow. I was sacred to.

Well, I’ve made it to ‘older’ and I understand. Life is unfair, and it hurts you, but you have to take the good with the bad. I have lost people, but gained so many things. Friends, knowledge, a better understanding of who I am. Life is one big lesson, one big chance to learn and grow. But sometimes it catches up to you. Time is less expendable than it is thought to be. I know the real meaning of tough now, too. Dallas strived to reach it his whole life, but he was far off. He was looking in all the wrong places. Being tough was living through hard things and not letting it break you, but letting it make you stronger. Dally broke. He had lost. But I hadnt, and I never would. I used to be scared of the dark and the things that lurked in it, but now I find comfort in the night. It reminds me of the people I lost along the way, and the stars of how they lit up my life. Johnny still lives in the quiet black, and the wild and free things of the night bring Dally along with them. My parents live within the love and wonder of the cool air. And they aren't really gone, they never will be. Their words formed me into the person I am today, and continue to shape me and affect me. I don't force things anymore. Whatever happens happens. Deep down I am still a child, but I know more now.

A sudden feeling of closure overtook me, and I knew it would all be okay. My whole being felt lighter as I stood up from the swingset, taking one last look at the sky before heading on my way. I was ready. Not to move on, but to move forward. I knew I would never move on. Nobody would. But that was alright. I walked back through the town, retracing my steps. I kicked stones on the sidewalk, smiling to myself when I spotted the dandelion growing from a small crack in the pavement. I bent down and snapped the stem, picking up the flower gently. The oncoming fall had turned the once yellow petals to small puffy skeletons of their former beauty. My mom used to laugh when I picked them. “They are weeds, Sunshine.” She would say. And I would always reply, “Beautiful weeds.” I suppose that some saw a weed while others saw a wish. I took a moment to blow on the fragile flower, my conscience speaking a small wish as I did. I disregarded the green twig from my now sticky fingers and continued walking again. The emotion I was feeling was so oddly unexplainable. It was almost . . . light orange. I passed my house as well as the Shepard household, where the grass doesn't seem to grow. I passed the small drugstore in the center, and the DX gas station. I walked and walked, dreaming the whole way, until the road seemed to slowly get smoother and the houses larger. Reading the street signs carefully, I realized how even they sounded more extravagant. Seminole Street, Birmingham Ave, Grand View, Fostoria Street. I had to catch my mind from drifting off again, making sure I didn't miss the one I was looking out for. I turned onto the street once I found it and read all the house numbers. 367, 398, 405, 426. And then I was there. 431 Cedar Street. I knocked on the door, which after a moment slowly opened to reveal a familiar face. A pair of green eyes greeted me.

“Hey.” I smiled. “Are you still up for that movie?”

[cyrelia-j]

[ficlet] #13 Tremble (Jack/Julian)

Continuing 30 Days of Jack. Also it is and isn't Jack/Julian, you'll see >_> It ran long but it needed it lol

All of these are under the tag “30 days of jack”

Series note: These start out Jack/Sarina moving to Jack/Julian (as you can see lol). These aren’t always being posted in chronological order. For now the timeline is as follows: 1, 2, 12, 11, 7, 4, 8, 13, 3, 5, 10, 9, 6, bonus #a

To refresh- taking place after Sarina convinces Jack to stay on DS9

Warnings: anxiety, uncomfortable seduction attempt [initiated by someone who doesn't want to do it], angst

“Jack?” he hears asked before the command for the lights. “What are you doing here?” comes as the lights do and Jack sees the expression on Bashir’s face. Bashir doesn’t want him here. This was a Bad idea and he told Sarina it was a Bad idea but he also promised Sarina that he would try. The reports say that Jack doesn’t try and doesn’t care about getting better because five years of torture, five years of trying before Nurse Ratched came in with her sinister and cold smile and told him that she was going to see to him and she was going to help him didn’t get him anything so-

“What are you doing in my room?” Bashir repeats and there’s no warmth in his eyes, no warmth in his voice, a step above angry. It’s calm doctor cold and it’s a step away from summoning the guards and Jack can’t say it just like he knew he wouldn’t be able to. So he doesn’t. He stands and bows, and holds out the PADD that Sarina gave him.

“Take it… please,” he adds, relieved when Bashir takes it with a look. Jack’s arms immediately snap back around himself, biting his fingers trying to breathe. Lauren said once that maybe the problem wasn’t his ribs but his arms being too tight making it hard to breathe. Wrong. Very Wrong.

Jack waits. Jack is still, staring at the floor, counting things because it’s the only way that he can be still without pacing, without needing to jump to move or exercise those restless nerves and those muscles that need to be in motion. He knows the the letter says. He knows what the letter is. It’s Emotional Manipulation and he hates it. It’s guilt and it’s barely better than lies and Sarina knew that when she wrote it but- “I want you to have a chance, Jack.” Because he isn’t getting better and she knows that and whatever… can’t be between the two of them-

Bashir looks up as Jack expected quick, the expression on his face changing with every words just like Jack had imagined after he, himself had read it. Bashir blinks at him dumbly, conflicted, those words echoing back “I know you feel guilty for what happened and I forgive you but if you still don’t feel that's enough, would you please help Jack?...” She said Bashir was lonely, needy, desperate, and Jack thinks that he’s like Baudelaire’s king of a rain-country for whom nothing will ever satisfy but… he is the king that Jack must swear fealty to and so he smiles.

He thinks he smiles and he clears his throat and tries to talk but those crushing calcium vices cradling his organs get tighter and tighter and he swallows and tries again and manages a “p-please…” before he has to look back to the ground and count the little lines on the floor. He can feel Bashir’s eyes going back and forth from the words to him, every second the shadow growing larger and Jack is itching to be up higher, higher where nothing can touch him and the shadows can’t converge.

The eyes don’t want him. They want Sarina. The eyes don’t care that his hair is fixed or his shoes are polished and he’s trying to stand up straight and trying to smile and be silent because to the eyes he isn’t Sarina and he isn’t Worthy because he’s never Worthy.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid you’ve caught me off guard and it’s… it’s not as simple a matter as you or Sarina seem to believe.” A sigh, tired, irritated and Jack sees a hand reaching for his shoulder resting lightly, comforting though it doesn’t linger. The hand wants to be rid of him too.

But even if it wants to be rid of him it feels nice in that moment and there’s a moment, just a blink that he sees Bashir look at him as something other than a Problem to be solved and he knows that if he goes back that no one will ever look at him like that again after Patrick and Lauren leave and he’ll be trapped in those exponential huhuva lifetimes chatter chatter and he… he can’t do it. It comes to him now that he’s so close. Now that Jack is here in a room and Bashir is stepping back with a sad shake of his head, with the shadows closing in again and his ribs crushing and…

“Wait.” That’s him. That’s his voice speaking and he can feel the vice twist twist and he can feel himself start to shake, his fingers starting to tremble and that’s…. Very annoying because he needs to do this and it doesn’t matter what his head and his nerves are screaming at him-

“What are you doing?” he hears Bashir ask Stupidly as his fingers just can’t…. Just can’t make the buttons work and his eyes don’t seem to be working either and-

“Obviously I’m unbuttoning my sweater hm. Sarina didn’t do this but I know you know what it looks like so why would you ask such a stupid question? It looks the same when a man takes his clothes off doesn’t it?”

It’s cold. It’s always cold and he gives up on the third button just ripping the other two because if he stops he’s not going to be able to keep going and-

“Um… right, I can see that but I don’t understand why you’re taking your sweater off.”

“If you can’t figure that much out then you’re either lying about your romantic entanglements hm or you need to read the letter again now would you please stop interrupting me with stupid questions hmhm.” Because if Bashir says another stupid thing, Jack thinks as his hands almost freeze completely on the lighter sweater under the sweater, he’s not… not going to be able to do this at all.

Jack closes his eyes at the last drop of Bashir’s stupid mouth open because the picture is getting blurry again and he’s starting to feel dizzy and cold and he’s sure that’s why he’s shaking as the sweater comes off leaving just the white t shirt.

“Jack-”

“God, don’t you l-listen I s-said-”

“Jack,” spoken softer, quieter, and Jack's eyes snap back open, and he realizes his hands are stuck on the thin shirt and he thinks it’s another breathing problem and if he can start breathing again then he can start moving again.

“I need to do this and I’m not going back there I’m not going back there and if S-Sarina c-couldn’t then I can I can I s-swear I can if you just shut up and stop talking and-”

“It’s alright,” he hears Bashir say. “Please stop,” he feels hands over his. “You don’t need to do that,” and he’s afraid to look anywhere but at the blur of the gray Starfleet uniform in front of his eyes.

“You can stay.”

[teainbostonharbor]

Love Letters Leading

A/N: So I wrote this fanfic for @i-is-gazebo! It’s for the IT Secret Valentine thing, and i’m deciding to upload it now. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Reddie

Word Count: 1.7k

letter one. dear eddie, i love you. ive loved you since we were 12. i don’t even know if you love me back, but I needed to tell you. I’ve been keeping it in for so long. You’re just so cute, you kill me every time i see you. You’re funny too. And Nice. And sweet. And caring, Just everything under the sun. I don’t know how you don’t see that I love you. Maybe you’re just an oblivious fuck. love, your secret admirer

letter two. dear eddie, I hope you liked the rose i left in your locker as well as the letter. Don’t worry, i’ll tell you who I am soon. I’m just not ready yet. This is a big thing I guess. I do actually love you, by the way. I’m not trying to prank you or anything. I’m trying to be sweet. I want you to feel loved because you fucking deserve it. You deserve all the love in the world, and I hope one day I can show you that. love, your secret admirer 

letter three dear eddie, today I wanted to mention how smart you are. You always study your ass off and get good grades. You love fixing things and reading. I think it’s cute. Fuck. Everything about you is cute. Like the reading glasses you wear sometimes. Or how sleepy you look the day of a test. God, this is coming off as creepy isn’t it? I just want to tell you but it needs to wait. love, your secret admirer 

letter four dear eddie, if you haven’t noticed, i’m doing this leading up to valentine’s day. On valentine’s day, i’m gonna actually tell you who i am. so be prepared to get roses and one of these letters everyday. it’ll be better on valentine’s, though. i have something planned. love, your secret admirer 

letter five dear eddie, i’m sorry if i sound weird sometimes. i don’t know how to write love letters or how love even works. i just wanna swoon you for fucks sake. I don’t even know if it’s working and i’m so sorry. please don’t think i’m weird? love, your secret admirer 

letter six dear eddie, how are you? good? good. I hope you’re good. i wanna see you happy, because that makes me happy. also, you’re adorable. too bad it isn’t summer and you can’t wear shorts. i like the oversized sweaters, too, though. very cute. very cool sense of fashion, unlike me. i’m rambling, love, your secret admirer 

letter seven dear eddie, well, i suppose these letter things are halfway over with. you enjoying it? i can’t wait for valentine’s. i just hope you like me back. i doubt it, and this is all stupid. i’m stupid. but you aren’t! you sweet lil hunny bun love, your secret admirer

letter eight dear eddie, these things just keep getting shorter and shorter. i don’t really know what to write. i guess i’m bad at expressing things. god, you probably hate me. i’m not smart, im just a stupid teenage boy in love. in love with you. everything you do. down to the littlest things. i can’t help but smile every time i see you. you make me so happy, eddie. love, your secret admirer 

letter nine  dear eddie, four more days, my love. i can’t wait, and i know you can’t either. it’s gonna be great. thanks for putting up with me for all these years. it’s been fun. i can’t wait to make more memories too. they’re gonna be the funnest ones. as long as you like me back, though. gotta remember that this might ruin our friendship. wow. love, your secret admirer 

letter ten dear eddie, god, i’m really running out of ideas without sounding creepy. guess i’ll just go for it. i’ve been wanting to kiss you since we were young. sure, we’ve kissed before but on the cheek. that’s different. that’s friendly. i don’t want friendly. i want boyfriends. love, your secret admirer 

letter eleven dear eddie, two more days. two more till the big day. the day i hope will go smooth. i’ll probably stammer and say something wrong, but please don’t hate me. please. i just want a good life and future with you whether we’re friends or not. you looked extra cute yesterday by the way <3 love, your secret admirer 

letter twelve  dear eddie, one more letter till the day. this is gonna be awesome. just you n me eddie, on a date. i hope, im so happy it isn’t on a school day. i know you get bullied sometimes. this way, i can give you all of your gifts and stuff and no one will know. i’m okay if you want to keep us a secret. i know you’ve told some people, though. love, your secret admirer 

letter thirteen dear eddie, tomorrow’s the day! are you excited? because i am! well, i’m more nervous. like, really nervous. i’m afraid you’ll reject me. i just wanna be with you, godammit. it’ll happen, i hope. maybe i’m im just as oblivious as you and we both like each other. that’s a possibility. but probably not. i’ve been waiting for this for years. i just hope nothing bad happens or i don’t fuck it up. i’ll see your cute ass tomorrow. i’ll meet you at your house around noon. love, your secret admirer

Eddie.

Eddie blushed like a madman whenever he got one of the letters. He had never expecting to have a secret admirer, or have them write love letters and leave roses. It was sweet, and he was excited to tell the other losers about it. However, he had no clue who it could be.

He’s one of the few openly gay kids at the school, but the other two were already dating each other. So it couldn’t be them. He also guessed that there could be others in the closet, or others that are only out to their friends. The losers were mostly open to just them, but Eddie came out to everyone on the same day. That’s a story for another day, though. He also guessed that it was someone close to him, and had a few classes with him. He never expected it to be any of the losers, let alone Richie Tozier. He should’ve known better, though. Little did he know, Richie was quite infatuated with him. All the losers saw it, and Richie was right. Eddie is an oblivious fuck. He didn’t think twice when Richie called him cute or heldhim or kissed his cheek. It was normal. They had always been like that. Eventually he realized he did like Richie. But Richie didn’t need to know that. Richie always flirted with him, and made jokes and stuff like that. Richie thought Eddie knew, and he grew tired of them just not being together. So he decided to write the letters and tell Eddie his feelings on valentine’s. The perfect plan, right? Right. Richie grew nervous as the day approached. He knew Eddie was excited at the idea of a relationship, but he feared rejection. Eddie seemed so happy when he told them about the letters, he just didn’t want it to end up badly. But it wouldn’t. Feb. 14th

Eddie paced around his room nervously. He had no clue who it was, or how it was going to go. He couldn’t pick out what to wear, or what he’d say. He became frustrated, and ended up taking a short shower. After that he waited. And waited. And waited. Time wasn’t passing quickly for some reason. Everything was slow. To pass time, he decided to sit at his desk and do some homework. His mind was obviously preoccupied, though. He couldn’t focus on anything. He felt like he was going to die from embarrassment and nervousness, but he could handle it. At least he tried to convince himself he could. He decide to try and focus again before he heard something bouncing off his window. He walked over to it slowly, eyes widening when he looked out of it. There stood Richie Tozier with a bouquet of flowers, a giant teddy bear, and a box of chocolates. Eddie quickly grabbed his phone, and checked the time. He couldn’t believe Richie, of all people, was his secret admirer. He should’ve guessed, but he hadn’t given it much thought. His mind was racing at a thousand miles a minute but it was quickly interrupted by Richie shouting, “Hey! Will you let me in? I’m freezing my ass off out here.” Eddie slid his window open. “I’ll let you in through the front door. I don’t think you can get up here with all that stuff.” And with that, Eddie ran downstairs to the front door. He was shaking nervously. This was the guy that liked him. And he liked him back. He took a deep breath, and placed his hand on the door knob. Slowly, he opened it. He was greeted by a grinning Richie with an arms full of presents. Eddie was speechless. No one had ever gone out of their way to write letters or get him gifts. He couldn’t believe that his crush went out of his way to write letters and get him gifts. He couldn’t believe it. Richie’s smile quickly faltered when Eddie said nothing and just stared. “I-I’m sorry… you probably don’t even like me. I knew I did too much..” Eddie panicked. “N-No! I-I like you. I have for a long time too. I’m just… speechless? I can’t believe you went out of your way to do this.” “Really?” he asked, his smile quickly returning. “Since sixth grade.” “So all of this is fine? Dinner too?” “You planned dinner too?” “Um… yeah? I kinda wanted today to be perfect and special.” Eddie grinned. “It’s perfect.” And so was their relationship from that point on.

epilogue six months later “Ever wonder what would’ve happened if you never wrote the letters?” It was a typical hot summer evening. They were laying in bed, limbs practically tangled together. Richie was messing with Eddie’s hair, occasionally peppering his face in kisses. “Yeah. I don’t think we would’ve ever gotten together.” “I don’t think we would’ve either. We’re both gay and dumb.” Richie grinned. “Yeah. Gay and dumb.” They laid like that for a while, not moving albeit them both being sweaty messes in the heat. Richie leaned in, pressed a kiss to Eddie’s cheek before whispering, “I love you Eddie Kaspbrak.” It was a perfect first.

[drews-diary]

21.08.19

today’s diary entry is gonna be weird. also hi, its been a while. a few days ago, i learned that the fourteen year old i tutor has a boyfriend. and while that is a perfectly reasonable age to have a boyfriend i just cant get over the fact that someone born in 2007 is already capable of typing let alone dating. I remember when my friends little brother who was also born in 2007 was crawling around and cried cuz he hit his head on the table. but to be fair that didnt really bother me too much as i always felt as though i was stagnant and things around me were the ones always changing. 

But then today i was listening to taylor swift’s old albums cuz i was feeling nostalgic and i listened to fifteen from the fearless album that came out back in 2009 and i realized that she released that song when she was around twenty which means she probably wrote in when she was in her teens writing about how she knows so much more than she did back when was starting high school that she wish she could tell her younger self. and i remembered listening to that album as a child and expecting myself to feel the same by the time i became an adult. yet here i am at 21 no thoughts head empty. and i realized that even if i met 15 year old me there is next to nothing i would want to tell her because i still feel like i am more or less still the same ignorant uninformed person. the only thing i would tell her is to stop fucking around and focus on school. 

i feel like i dont have as much experience as the other people around me. I never used to care that i’ve never been romantically involved with someone, but i always thought it would happen eventually when i got to college but a three semesters have passed and i have yet to take a single class on campus. 

to be completely honest the only reason i am even fever writing this right now is because i had a ice cream blending cold brew from starbucks this evening because i had to get up excruciatingly early for class registration (which i completely failed at) and had three tutoring classes today meaning i didnt have time for my daily afternoon nap so the coffee was the only thing making sure i didnt fall asleep during my last class. I purposely dont drink coffee regularly so that i can use it like a magic potion when i need it and the caffeine hits me like a bus. it has been six hours and i am still wide-eyed i should not have gotten a grande. today was also my first time trying coldbrew so there’s that. i was kinda grateful for the effects because it made sure i was awake for today’s episode of hospital playlist but now i kinda wanna sleep since i didnt get much last night and i would like to make sure i dont miss my class tomorrow morning, i have to get up at at least ten, but here i am typing this.and i think i am just going to keep going.

my family moved recently, and for the time being my entire room is surrounded by bookshelves because my brother’s bed is too big and we cant fix any bookshelves into his room and i am only using a mattress topper thing for the next few months. this is because i finally convinced my mom to let me throw out that horrid bed with the curved head and foot board with the flower decorations that always dug into the back of my head, neck, and back when i was trying to read. so that is the situation in my room until the end of the year when hopefully my brother’s whole situation will be over and we can finally go furniture shopping and switch rooms. (we are also currently living in each other’s room because his permanent room aka my current room cannot fit his fucking gigantic boat bed. actually i really love that bed i wish he was still young enough to use it its so cute.

i find our new neighborhood unsettling. like its probably because i got so attached to our old house that we lived in for nine years but i dont know. the place we moved to is a location that i used to spend some time in when we first moved to korea but i literally havent been here in nine years as mentioned earlier, and i am slowly piecing my memories of the geography as well as blending it with the incredibly limited knowledge i have of the nearby surroundings that i built riding the bus and when i was learning to drive because the school that i went to is kind of near our new place. anyways to get back to the subject this new neighborhood is full of too many happy families with these little kids that run around with their sticky little fingers flailing around. like hello we are still in the middle of a global pandemic i swear to god parents of little kids will go loose their minds when their children get sick yet they let them just run around spreading their disgusting little disease to the rest of us. ugh i hate kids. but thats besides the point the reason i think the new neighborhood feels dystopian is because all of the families, children and the elders too (why are there so many elders like i dont hate them or anything most of them are fine but like where are they all coming from?) look so happy. where are the depressed high schoolers and burnt out college students? my brother and i dont seem to have any friends in this bitch. anyways so the sheer amount of happiness that seems to radiate around me reminds me of books and movies like the giver you know or like the uglies series where you start off in this utopian-esque world until you find out that it is actually fake. its unsettling. 

okay now i am kind of tired good night. wait also the public transportation at our new place fucking sucks i know it’s pretty good by regular standards but i am used to subway stations, convenience stores, cafes and bus stops all being 30 seconds away from the entrance of my building. okay the bus stop took more like two minutes but whatever. and buses used to come every five minutes but now i have to walk at least ten minutes to the nearest subway station and the bus stops only have three buses and even those take so fucking long to arrive and they dont even arrive when they say they will they are always late which is why i end up fucking walking twenty minutes to the subway station because that way at least i can guarantee that i am not going to be completely late. unreliable ass buses.

fuck there’s a lot i dont like about my new neighborhood. oh wait we are also far from malls now i have to walk like half an hour to get to the nearest mall when at our old house i only had to walk ten minutes and the mall close to our new house is worse than the old one. this one’s movie theatre isnt even famous. but dont get me wrong i guess there are things i like about our new place like how you can call the elevator from inside the house or how there’s a gym and the fact that i now have ac in my room. i am just being a brat because i really loved our old house. it was perfect. even if i felt as though i was being burned alive during the summers sometimes. i also like my new blinds that let in light in the shape of constellations. 

i dont currently have a desk in my room so i dont know what im going to do when school starts again in a few weeks i guess i’ll have to take my lecture on the floor or maybe on the kitchen table idk.

[just-jordie-things]

Flirt - Theo Raeken

warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual activities, lotso alcohol so underaged drinking, very belated request word count: 4535 (THATS WHAT IM TALKIN ABOUT I WROTE IT IN 1 DAY) requested by anon! again sorry the request took me forever to get to ya, but i didn’t forget! although I did change some things around... hope you still like it tho

“Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist right?”

 You turned from where you stood on the steps of the school, and rose an eyebrow at Theo Raeken.  He winked, bounding up the stairs towards you.  “And how are you this mornings, darling flower?” You rolled your eyes, but let him walk next to you anyways.

 “I am absolutely wonderful now that I have Mr Raeken escorting me into the building.  And you?”

 “Well I do find myself fancying walking with you, flower” He replied.  You laughed to yourself as you headed into the school.

 “Nice chatting as always Raeken.  See you later”

 “Adios Chica”

 He watched you walk off to your locker, and he paused in the hall.  You met up with your friend, Kira, as you always did.  Theo let out a sigh.  Sure, he flirted around, it was like his trademark.  But he didn’t flirt to anyone the way he flirted with you.  He pursued you.  You… the girl unaware of what his past truly was.  Sure, he’d been told by Scott that you knew about the more… supernatural side of Beacon Hills.  Basically that you knew about the McCall pack, but wasn’t involved.  He persisted on knowing more about you, but Scott only cared to share your knowledge on the werewolves banshees and kitsunes.

 But he was aware that you had no clue of his own involvement, including his chimera status.

 You were at your locker with Kira, the girl pushing you into answering her daily questions about your encounters with Theo.

 “Did he use a pickup line? He always does, what’d he say today? Was it cute? Do you think you like him?”

 “Hey hey hey” You said with a chuckle.  “Kye, I love you, but this is getting out of hand.  Theo’s… popular.  You think he’s gonna go for some random girl like me? No.  He’s not” Kira made a pout.

 “I don’t know girly… he seems like he’s really into you” You crinkled your nose and shook your head.

 “No… no I doubt he’s like that”

“Doubt who’s like what?” Lydia asked, having popped out of nowhere.  Already using the mirror on your locker door to fix up her lip gloss.

 “y/n don’t think that Theo likes her” Kira said.  Lydia rolled her eyes.

 “Oh please, I haven’t ever seen a boy salivate that much.  And I’ve taken Stiles to get curly fries” She said with a short laugh.  “Seriously, just go for it.  What’ve you got to lose?”

 “My dignity?” You said sarcastically.  Kira rolled her eyes with Lydia this time.

 “You’re not even gonna take a real chance?” She asked.  You pursed your lips.

 “Maybe if Lyds gets me tipsy enough at her next party” You said.  Your friends sighed.

 “Come on y/n, that’s totally not fair” Kira said in a defeated tone.  “You flirt with hi,, and he flirts back.  You’re both into each other, why not just… you know” Kira began wildly clapping her hands.  Lydia’s brows furrowed.

 “Hatefuck each other?” The banshee guessed.  You slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

 “What!?” Kira asked with wide eyes.  Oh the innocence of this fox would never not be funny to you.  “No- no! I meant- I meant get together!” Kira began to clap again, this time sending you and Lydia into pity giggles and head shakes.

 “No sweetie… no that’s not what that means.  Like at all” Lydia said, wrapping an arm around the kitsune’s shoulders as the three of you began to walk to class.

“Oh my God…. I do that when I’m talking to people all the time…” Kira mumbled, making you both laugh again as you went into class. 

You ended up unable to focus during the entire class.  You were too busy wondering about what the girls had told you about Theo.  Sure, you were kinda interested.  A cute boy who flirts with you? Who wouldn’t be interested.  But you were certain that his intentions weren’t to have a romantic evening at dinner and a movie.  No, Theo Raeken seemed more like a one night stand kind of guy.  

Theo sighed as he sat down at his picnic table outside for lunch.  Yeah, for a ‘popular’ and big flirt, he ate lunch alone.  After his encounters with the McCall pack, Stiles had a thing for glaring him down in the cafeteria.  Or the hallways.  Or class.  And once he accidentally walked into the bathroom while Stiles was already there.  Usually he didn’t mind the alone time, in fact he quite enjoyed it.  He was able to get back into the swing of things.  Focus on classes, raising grades.  As well as keeping his cool and forgetting about the past.

 But he knew you were in the lunchroom.  Laughing and smiling with your friends… who happened to be the McCall pack but Theo would risk getting the evil eye from Stiles to listen in on your giggling.  But then he’d also have to go through the hassle of finding a table and alas, he had no friends.  Hayden was the closest thing to a friend he had… but last he heard she was part of Scott’s pack now and likely wanted nothing to do with him.

 You wandered outside, needing a break from your group of friends.  Well, needing a break from Stiles and Lydia’s clinginess, from Kira’s continued questions, Scott’s check up on your grades, Malia’s… well Malia didn’t do anything you loved Malia, but you needed a break from everyone really.  No one was out there, a nice empty space of picnic tables.  You took in a deep breath and looked over the area…. Your eyes landed on Theo.  Your brows furrowed at the sight.  Theo Raeken ate lunch alone?

 “Hey Raeken” You called, walking down the steps and into the courtyard.  He looked up from a book.  A book.  You never pegged him for a reading guy. 

“Hey l/n” He replied.  You stood in front of his table, next to the bench across from him.  “Well sit down if you like, but if you’re ditching this early I’d get your ass moving” He said with a light hearted chuckle.  You shook your head and sat across from him, setting your bag next to you.

“I don’t ditch.  I don’t want to get in trouble” Theo laughed.  “What? Is there something funny about my wanting to have a good education?” You asked.  You shook his head, pursing his lips and putting his hands up in surrender.

“Oh no, I just don’t expect any less from you lovely y/n” He said.  You raised an eyebrow.

“And what does that mean?” You asked, folding your hands together and setting them on a table.

“It means, toots” He started.  “You wouldn’t ditch, if I gave you all the money in my wallet, right now” You thought about it for a moment.

“Hm” He rolled his eyes.

“Are you seriously contemplating it? Please, I see you getting the bite from Scott before leaving school grounds before the final bell has rung”

You sat in silence for a full minute before Theo realized his mistake.

His eyes widened and jaw slacked, unsure of how to cover for such a colossal screw up.

Before he could even come up with something to say, you were already responding.

“Well at least Scott’s an alpha.  I don’t suppose I’d like to be a part of your sorry ass ‘half animal’ chimera pack” You said with a scoff and a smirk.  Again, leaving him with wide eyes and a hung open mouth.  “Shut the trap dear, you’ll catch flies” You winked, and slung your bag over your shoulder.

“You.. you knew?”

“I gotta go hun” You said, standing from your seat and making your way towards the school again.  “Don’t wanna be late for class” Theo shook his head, left a stunned mute in his lonesome.

 The next morning you were getting out of Stiles’ jeep, and tiredly walking yourself up the steps of the school.  Nothing had happened to make you this tired, it was just one of those mornings.  The kind where you were jeans converse and a sweatshirt, a messy bun on your head and a coffee in your hand.  Well, Stiles did spend the whole drive to the school telling you terrible things about Theo, so that wore you out.  At least all his arguments were things you already knew.  

‘I mean, look at the gel in his hair’

‘He flirts around a lot’

‘He eats lunch all by himself’

‘There’s a reason he’s got no friends’

To be honest, everything he used just made you feel bad for Theo.  He really didn’t have friends… at least not ones you ever saw him hang out with.  You frowned at the thought, and looked to Stiles as you walked towards the school together.

“Did he have friends ever? Like in elementary school or anything?” You asked.  Having been new to Beacon Hills in the eighth grade, you hadn’t known Theo until he had supposedly moved back in the beginning of your senior year.

“Yeah.  Me and Scott” Stiles said, tugging on the strings of his jacket.

“Scott and I” You corrected with a mumble.  But didn’t push the subject any more.  He’d only argue against you.  If you even breathed Theo’s name, you were sure Stiles would pop up with five more text based facts about why you should steer clear of him.  Most of them relating back to ‘because he’s evil’.

Was he? Would you even know? All that Kira had oh so secretly filled you in on was that Theo was a chimera, and for a short while he had a pack of chimeras that consisted of Tracy, Josh, Hayden and Corey.  Hayden and Corey being the only friends you had to talk to about whether or not Theo was a villain.

Josh and Tracy had mysteriously disappeared a few months back… maybe you should be doing some more investigating.

“Kira!” You called, ditching Stiles and rushing over to your petite asian friend.

“Kay bye” Stiles muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment of you leaving him alone by searching for Scott or Lydia.

“Hi” Kira said with a chipper tone but a confused look.  “What…? Did you forget to do the Econ homework cause I did too and I was gonna ask Lydia for help on it-”

“Tell me about Theo” You said bluntly.  Her eyes widened to a round almond shape.

“Um-”

“Tell me Kira, I need to know”

Meanwhile across the hall, Theo perked up at the sound of his name being spoken in a recognizably soft tone.  He looked over from where he was putting his coat in his locker, to where you stood just down the hall with Kira.  Just far enough that he could listen in without getting caught.  His ear perked as he stuffed his bag with books to look busy.

“... I mean Scott wasn’t dead dead, well, he was, but only for a few minutes!” Kira said quickly.  Theo could hear the quickening in your heartbeat.

You were scared.

He shook his head, furrowing his brows as he continued to listen to the conversation against his better judgement.

“He… he k- he killed Scott?” You stuttered over your words, speaking quietly.  Theo looked down the hall now, meeting Kira’s eyes.  Your back was turned to him.

“Yes” She answered, maintaining eye contact with him.

He wanted to glare, he wanted to slam his locker, maybe storm down there and deliver a nice ‘fuck you’ to the thunder kitsune.

But he couldn��t.  He could only stare longingly at the back of your head.  Kira looked at him again, giving a slight frown.  He wondered if she meant it as an apology, or just for pity.  The bell rang, and he heard you and Kira exchange goodbyes.

When you turned around, you began walking down the hallway quickly.  He could see you tightly clutching a binder to your chest.  He turned slightly, making himself more visible to you, and he contemplated saying something, but he didn’t know how, or what to even say 

You saw him before he could finish his thought.  Your eyes widened, and you stepped further away from him, walking closer to the opposite wall of lockers.

“y/n-”

“Don’t” You said in the most serious tone you could muster.  “Don’t talk to me”

 He opened his mouth, but closed it instantly.  He could see the tears in your eyes, and didn’t want to push you anymore than he already had.

“You- how- how dare you” You said with a snarl.  “How dare you”

I’m sorry, he wanted to say.  I’m sorry for everything, I should’ve told you, I should’ve been honest about everything.

“You, Theo Raeken” You looked away for a moment, then shook your head as you stared back at him.  “You’re a terrible person” You told him, voice cracking.  You opened your lips to say something else, but couldn’t bring yourself to do it.  So you settled for shaking your head again.   

You walked off, and Theo was left in an empty hallway. 

“What an asshole! What a total dickwad!” You exclaimed, swigging back a drink of your beer as you sat on Lydia’s sofa.  She sighed, looking over at Kira and Malia, who were curled up on the recliner.  Malia had fallen asleep within the first two hours of the girls night sleepover.

“Look, y/n can I tell you something? Like, some real and solid advice?” You shrugged and nodded, taking a few more drinks.  “I think… I think he’s better now.  Since he’s come back”

“What!?” You exclaimed, and Kira shot you a look, gesturing to her sleeping girlfriend.  “Sorry I just- Lyd” You said her name in a breathy laugh.  “He, he killed Scott, Kira told me everything he did, he hit you too and nearly killed you in EIchen how can-”

“Yes, he did horrid, and awful things” Lydia said.  “But he was literally dragged down, to the pits of hell, for months… I think he’s learned a lesson or two”

 You let this sink in whilst chugging down the rest of your beer.

“Anyways, I invited him to my party tomorrow night.  Well, I invited everyone, but still, he said he’d be there so” Lydia shrugged, pretending to care about her fingernails but she was watching you out of the corner of her eye.  “Maybe you can talk to him, or something”

Maybe you could.

 Theo closed the front door behind him, almost being shoved against it by the mass amount of dancing bodies in Lydia Martin’s living room.  He swiftly moved past them and made his way to the kitchen.  Then double checked his phone.

Lydia Martin: come to the kitchen when you get here Lydia Martin: i’ll put wolfsbane in your drink.  You’ll need it

He ended up pushing a few people aside and promptly apologizing.  When he reached the Martin kitchen, he saw Lydia there, pouring and mixing drinks, handing out beer bottles and red solo cups.  At the dining table some girl was dancing on it and a ring of guys took shots of toxic liquid god knows what 

“Ah Mr Raeken!” Lydia grinned, waving him over.  “Hey, Mal take my spot” She said, Malia instantly trading places with her.  Lydia grabbed two plastic cups and met Theo at the kitchen entrance.  “Come with me” She told him, and he blindly followed her to the backyard.  He was surprised no one was back here.

“Are you gonna kill me-”

“Nope” Lydia handed up one of the cups, and when he took it she drank from hers.

“Okay… and why’d you want me to come tonight? I mean thanks but-”

“Cut the bullshit you only came cause you knew y/n would be here” Theo snapped his mouth shut and Lydia giggled.  “I knew it! Cute” She took another drink, slightly swaying to the loud music inside, muffled out here.

“Yeah.. yeah I did but she doesn’t want to talk to me anyways so..” Theo shrugged, taking a whiff of his drink.  When he smelled the wolfsbane he took a small sip, and was surprised by the old yet familiar sensation of liquor running down his throat.

“Anywho.  She’s dancing with Kira.  You should go ask to talk to her” Theo snorted at that.

“Yeah, thanks sweets, but she’d rather shove a stick up my ass first” Lydia crinkled her nose and cringed at the image in her head, but shook her head to get rid of it.

“Okay… but you’re wrong” Lydia said, using her ‘Sweetie I’m smarter than you so I know what I’m talking about’ voice.

“I’m wrong?” Theo asked, drinking more of whatever it was Lydia had made for him.

“Yeah.  You are.  You don’t think that I explained to her the whole story?” Lydia asked, her tone becoming softer.  Theo looked at her, then looked down at the cup in his hands.  “Because I did” She said, maneuvering her head so their eyes would meet, hoping he’d see her sincerity.  “Listen to my heartbeat am I lying? y/n likes you, and I can see it, and I know it, you think I’d let her just be pissed at you over something she didn’t yet understand-”

“Okay but why do you care? Why are you helping me? Won’t your boyfriend be mad?” Theo asked.  Lydia smiled, and shook her head 

“I’m not here for Stiles.  I’m here for y/n” She said kindly.  “Just go find her” She added, then headed inside.

Theo thought about just standing in the backyard, drinking his liquor and contemplating the strange shit that was his life.  But after a second he knew he couldn’t be this close without trying to talk to you.

He went back inside, and pushed his way through the crowd in the living room.

When he saw you, dancing too cutely for your outfit of choice, his heart melted.

You were wearing a black cocktail dress that fell to your upper thigh, enough that when you jumped as you danced, he could just barely see the smooth curve of your ass.  You spun around, revealing a beer bottle in one hand, the other happily raised as you danced to the EDM music playing.  You were laughing and smiling, eyes closed in euphoria, and if Theo had his scents right, drunkenness.  He frowned slightly, instantly worried for your own well being.

Your eyes fluttered open, instantly landing on him.  The only non moving thing in the crowd, about four feet away.  He was surprised when you didn’t scowl, or frown.  The smallest of smiles still stayed present on your lips.  After a moment, you lowered your arms and looked down at your feet, silently giving yourself reassurance.

Then you walked up to him, somehow managing to balance in your high heels.  He watched you, pretty much ready to hold his arms out to catch you if you were to fall.

“Hey” You managed quietly.  Theo looked dramatically to the left, then the right, before pointing to himself

“Me?” You nodded.  “You’re talking to me?” You giggled this time, nodding, and holding your bottle to your chest.

“Yes, I’m talking to you Theo” You said.  He smiled at you and bowed his head slightly.

“Well then the pleasure is all mine” You laughed again, and nodded your head off to the side 

“You want to go outside?” You asked him, and he nodded.

“Sure” WIth that he followed behind you to the back door, just like he had for Lydia.  When he passed her and Malia in the kitchen handing out drinks like before, the strawberry blonde gave him a hidden thumbs up.  Though he didn’t know if she meant it for him or you.  He opened the door and held it as you walked out, giving him another small smile in thanks.  He closed it when you stepped outside.

He admired you for a moment as you stared up at the inky blue night sky, counting the stars in your head, as many as you could.  After a while he knew he had to say something.

“Look, I figure you wanna talk about the other day, so um, if you have any questions I don’t mind-” You turned around, your beautiful eyes meeting his and Theo found himself trailing off.

“What?” You asked, your innocent voice quiet and soft.  You set your bottle down on the concrete patio with a little clink.  “Why’d you stop?” You asked, walking back to him.

“Sorry I just..” He stopped again, and you raised your eyebrows in impatience.  “I don’t know.  Waiting for you to ask questions I guess” You nodded, pursing your lips as you thought.

“Are you evil?” He snorted a laugh.

“I’d like to think not, but don’t ask Stiles that” he said, making you chuckle as well.  “Is that all you got? Not exactly what I was expecting”

 “Did… did you kill Tracy and Josh?” You asked.  His mouth opened, then closed.  Then opened again…. Then closed again.  You got your answer that way.  “Why?”

 “I can’t… I can’t answer that in a way that will ever make sense to you” He said honestly.  “Or me, quite frankly” You nodded, looking down at the ground and rubbing your shoe on the concrete.  “Look, I did a lot of terrible things, but I want- I need you to know that i regret every moment of it, every single one of them.  And if I could take it back I would in an instant” You looked up, eyes meeting his again.

 “I’ll take your word for it” You said softly.  He half smiled at you.

 “Any other questions?” You thought for a few seconds, taking off your shoes in the meantime and wandering into the grass in your bare and aching feet.

 “Come up with me” You said, pointing off to a tree.  Theo looked up, seeing a tree house in it.

“I never thought Lydia would be a treehouse building kind of girl” Theo chuckled, and you did too, shaking your head.

“No, it’s old.  She’s had it here longer than I’ve been around” You told him, climbing up the trunk to where the ladder was.

“How long have you been around? Did you go to Beacon Hills Elementary? Cause I think I would’ve remembered you” You were thankful he was on the ladder below you, so he wouldn’t see your blush.

“No, I didn’t move here till the middle of eighth grade” You told him, climbing into the box that was once a prized treehouse.  Theo crawled in shortly after you.  “But I didn’t meet Scott and Stiles and Allison till freshmen year, I was friends with just Lydia till then” You said.

“Allison?” You looked over at him, your features falling.

“Yeah.. yeah we uh… we lost her” You said solemnly.  Theo nodded, barely recognizing the name from something Scott had briefly mentioned a while back.  “But she’s in a much better place now, so” You nodded off, looking desperately for a conversation changer.

“So what’s your college future look like?” Theo asked.  You raised an eyebrow, sitting on the planked floor against the wall.

“My college future?” You repeated, and he nodded.

“You get questions, I get questions.  It’s the game” You nodded, smiling at the idea of the game.

“Alright, I’ll play.  I applied for a few places, but I really just want to get into NYC” You said.

“Why so far?”

“Nope, my turn for a question” You said.  “Why’d you come to Lydia’s party?”

“Hoping to find you miss y/n” He stated unashamedly.  “Why do you want to go to NYC?”

“Because it’s far and I want to explore on my own.  Gain a sense of freedom and independence you know?” Theo smiled at that, and nodded.  “Mr Raeken” You began in a deep formal voice, and making him laugh.  “Do you have the hots for moi?” He chuckled at the question.

“I do believe so, miss y/n” He said, shuffling over closer next to you.  For a moment you thought he was going to lean over and kiss you, maybe wrap an arm around you, but he did neither.  “And do you for me?” You looked over and smiled at him, fully aware of the mere two inches between your lips and his.  You nodded your head just barely.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a chimera to begin with?” You asked quietly.

“I didn’t want to scare you off so soon” He replied in the same volume.  You watched his eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment, then back to your own.  “Did you hate me when Kira told you… things?” He asked.  You shook your head, choosing to keep silent in this answer.  He watched you inch closer just a little 

“Do you want to kiss me?” You murmured.  Theo rose a hand, his fingertips dusting lightly over your cheek before cupping it.

“Yes” He said, your eyes trained on his lips as he spoke the single word.

“Then do it”

It only took him half a second before his lips slanted against yours, making you see stars behind your closed eyes.  Your hands slid up behind his neck, into his hair and resting in the soft locks.  You hummed in pleasure, scooting forward and moving your lips in sync with his.  You felt him smile against you, and you parted briefly.

“Wow” You whispered, eyes still shut and nose bumping his.  Theo chuckled, opening his eyes to find yours still closed.

“How would you feel on going out tomorrow night with the bad guy?” He asked you, and you opened your eyes, pressing your cheek against his warm palm.

“I would love to go out tomorrow night with a… a good guy in training” You said with a bright smile and small giggle.  With that answer he leaned back in and kissed you shortly, to which you pulled him right back in for a satisfyingly longer kiss.

“I like the sound of that better” Theo said, and you smiled again.

“Me too” You said, hands resting on his shoulders.  You stared at him for a moment, then moved closer on your knees, and straddled over his lap.  

Theo watched your actions, his arms falling from holding your face gently.  You both looked down as you sat yourself on his thighs, then met eyes again.  You smiled shyly, and leaned down to press your lips to his again.  His hands rested on your hips, then encircled around your waist to embrace you against him.  Your lips moved together in a soft dance.  He did even try to stick his tongue down your throat, showing you nothing but affection and gentleness.  You smiled against his lips, giving him one last, longing kiss.  You both parted slowly.

“I would like to fall in love with you” He told you, making you laugh softly and shake your head.  He brushed back the fallen strands of hair.

“I’d like to fall in love with you as well, Mr Raeken” You responded.

And you very well did.

hope it was everything you dreamed Xx

xoxo ~ jordie

PS: DONT FORGET TO VOTE UR FAV TW GIRL + GUY IN MY ASKS!! XX