#and then tomorrow first thing i will write the conclusion and proof read everything. and then........ IT SHALL BE POSTED!!!!!!

[infizero]

ok final in progress update on the nimona analysis post ALL I HAVE LEFT TO WRITE IS THE CONCLUSION 👍

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, so, time to write the blue and yellow meta: deranged version. Shoutout to @dangerpronebuddie for the thoughts that are helping me in this particular delusion (This is gonna have some copy/paste from the other one just for the context to be all in one post, but stay with me anyway if you read that one already I promise this one has more stuff)

Okay, so I have been going insane trying to figure out what the blue and yellow means.

And now I have a theory. So for this one, I'm gonna use the fact that they are using the sun on a wall and that they completed the blue and green with Buck and Eddie at the gym scene with the bottle and the towel to assume I am right, and they complete these things with other elements of the scene, wall, decoration, everything.

Okay, so, when tracking the blue and green thing so I could make this post, I kept wondering why there aren't a lot of Henren examples of it, this season has given us a few more scenes, but I'm pretty sure there are only these 2 before season 7. But like, I didn't think much of it even though I didn't understand why.

But Anna, I thought this was about the blue and yellow, why you talking about the blue and green? Well, I think the blue and yellow is the blue and green for queer couples. Stay with me, I promise I have enough proof to create a reasonable doubt lol.

Okay, so, the other day I saw a henren edit that had their first date and I already had the yellow behind Eddie in my mind and was like, that's interesting, their first date is blue and yellow.

Then, someone is making a Karen in every episode series, and I saw a set of her in yellow and was like "wait, I need to stop looking for answers in the straight couples, buddie is a queer couple, I need to see if this is a pattern that has already been established for the other queer couple, do henren have different rules?" and yes, I think they do.

Going back to the blue and green thing for a second, the easiest couple to track the blue and green is madney. Every couple has worn blue and green, but they have been blue and green since their first scene. And while they do wear blue and green for inconsequential scenes, they are in blue and green for things like getting back together in season 6, finding out Jee is a girl, the date after Doug, the hospital after Doug, the whole Boston episode is blue and green in nature, I talk about that in more detail in my blue and green applied to buddie meta if you're interested.

So, assuming they are establishing the blue and yellow with henren in the same way they do the blue and green with madney, blue and yellow in important henren scenes sounded like a nice bet since the blue and yellow is present on their first date, right? And the same way Boston is inherently blue and green, tomorrow is very blue and yellow.

But you don't really think I'm telling you I established a pattern with only one episode, right? Using other elements of the scene, considering the way they are using the sun a lot with buddie, I have quite a few examples, going back down to when they accept that the IVF didn't work and that they'll be okay. I also really like the way the club in fomo is lit in blue and yellow. (I'm trying to stay within the image limit so, tiny images, sorry lol)

But Anna, you are using the wall a lot. Yes, I am using the wall a lot. Why am I using the wall a lot? You know how madney is the guide for the blue and green? Their house is blue and green. Like decorations and stuff. Mostly the kitchen, but still. The detailing there, the pans, the blue chairs, the blue couch. Even Jee's room is greenish and blueish.

So, henren's house being yellow works, I think. Another point towards that is the way that Buck's bi awakening episode is blue and yellow.

So, I'm gonna be insane and say the blue and yellow thing is the blue and green thing but queer.

Here's where I'm diverging from the first post I made, why? Well, considering my main point of reference was henren and the earliest conclusive example I could find was in 3x04 when they are talking about the IVF, I didn't look in season 2.

But thanks to Maggie (💜) I went to look in Buck, Actually. To check Thomas and Mitchell.

We have the blue and yellow shirt, the blue and yellow lighting, the blue cake with the shirt. They also use the sun in their happy contemplating life moments.

Unrelated but I love the blue and green thing too much not to point this out and I just noticed it lol they have a lot of blue and green details too, the car, the driveway, the transition from a green cake to a blue cake, I just love that.

But, since the blue and yellow exists in the couple that is supposed to show Buck what love looks like, I'm gonna go full crazy here with buddie and blue and yellow, because we are starting at Eddie's introduction lol just another nice little day in the they cast Ryan with a plan delusionland.

Let's move past shirtless Ryan for a sec (yes, I could've used a different screenshot, but why would I lol) the bag above Eddie's head is blue, and there's that yellow thing behind Buck (Hen is also in yellow in this scene and everyone else is in the darker uniform so 👀)

But this is nothing yet, in terms of crazy. How about the way that Hector's call is blue and yellow? And the blue and yellow lights in the ceiling of the ambulance?

What if I told you the dialogue here is "Practice rounds have blue caps, gold caps are live."? Are you feeling insane with me yet?

I personally view the "you can have my back any day" as inherently blue and green, but Eddie's side does have that yellowish light in the middle there so, something else to consider.

But moving on, there's a lot of blue and yellow lighting during the earthquake, but even I will have to admit that's because of emergency lights, so I will keep moving, I am crazy but I also know when to admit that this show likes warm lights and sirens are blue lol

Next up, we have the fountain. And the elf happening right after this, like 👀👀

I couldn't find any other examples in season 2 tho.

I will admit that my season 3 examples are a really big stretch but, the grocery store, has blue, green, and yellow elements, mostly behind Buck.

Them making up the station, also has the yellow light element.

Other cutesy things I wanna point out are the summer camp talk and the cup thing, with the blue chair and the building.

And I kinda have to add the recovery conversation because of the oven and the light behind Eddie.

Also, they usually drink the genuine beer, that has a yellow label and the coming out scene has a beer with a blue label.

Okay, but I skipped a bunch of shit here in the middle. Well, season 5 doesn't have anything that stands out to me all that much. Season 6, has the poker date.

I'm kinda obsessed with the way that the coming out scene has Buck in blue and the yellow behind Eddie while he's dressed in black and the end of the poker date is the other way around. This one feel more on purpose to me than anything else that I pointed out, since this happens after tomorrow, where we see that in play with henren a lot.

But my question here is, if this is something that has been played with since season 2, what does this mean for buddie and survivors?

This scene has some blue and yellow elements and it is the lead to the will reveal.

And, well, the will reveal is undeniably blue and yellow. Their shirts are blue and yellow. And this scene reads as a love confession. It was talked about as Eddie's way of saying he loves Buck to the core. If you add this, and the elements of the shooting and how not platonic the they're in situation is, if any of this is true, then, well, what does it mean for this scene?

I kinda wanna go full conspiracy theory for a second, so bear with me. Buck coming out scene, Buck matches the lighting, everything around him is blue (in contrast to the kiss, where he is in a blue shirt but he has the yellow light behind him), kinda like what's happening with Eddie in the will reveal, but obviously, since Eddie doesn't really match, it's just in the same color palette, we can make an argument about him not being ready yet. Not like Buck is when it comes to his bisexuality now. Especially with the way this scene screams aborted love confession. So, since I'm already using this to fuel my Ryan got cast with a plan madness, I will also use this for my Eddie has been aware since season 4 madness.

This is long and kinda completely deranged but I think there is an actual argument to be made here, at least from season 6 forward, so this is my current theory, let's see how the rest of the season plays out 🫶

As always, if you read this I love you 💜

[mikrowrites]

andromeda

(vignettes cut from cottages of constellations; can be read as a one-shot)

c!wilbur x reader

summary: a series of memories from y/n’s perspective; the war, the death, the stars, the secret, and the meeting.

warnings: fluff, angst, violence, war themes, bad mental health situations, death, language, manipulation

a/n: this is basically a bunch of scrapped ideas from cottages of constellations that i shoved together bc i already had them written and have been hitting a writer’s block with pt 3. the only part of this you should regard as “canon” is the syndicate vignette, that will be in pt 3. enjoy!!

Y/n and Wilbur kept many secrets.

That was not something unknown by any, not a surprise to some. The two seemed to have words unspoken, existing between the glance of an eye or a brush of a hand, a nod of a head and a ever so soft sigh. Y/n and Wilbur kept many secrets to themselves and themselves only.

The cottage was one. A secret kept along a peaceful riverbank, until the price of TNT seemed higher than that forgotten paradise. There were some other secrets too. Some inconsequential, some almost burdening.

Y/n and Wilbur kept a secret they chose to not share with anyone. A secret that would be for the best if left unsaid.

But the price of freedom would prove higher and more demanding. The price for a tall brunette man to whisper the words into an enemy’s ear, for the enemy to relay it to someone who was once deemed an old friend.

The moment Schlatt spoke the secret out loud to Y/n with threatening intent, everything came crashing to the ground.

It was a secret Schlatt would die with.

—

The War…

Y/n arrived as the sun rose at dawn.

Wilbur was there to meet her, his uniform jacket unbuttoned messily and his cravat askew. As she approached him closer he smiled softly, but the smile was tired, aching, the light in his eyes dimmed by the bags beneath them.

What was the saying, “winning is easy, governing is harder”?

Y/n feared both feats were insurmountably difficult.

“Hello, love.” Wilbur sighed, striding the distance of Y/n’s approach and pulling her into his arms, holding her like a lifeline.

“Hey Wil, it’s okay, I’m here.” Y/n reassured.

He pulled away with a less tight smile, wrapping his fingers around her own, pulling her towards the majestic walls.

“Y/n L/n, welcome to L’manburg.”

And L’manburg was small, and undeveloped, and nothing quite impressive really. But it was her lover’s nation, and to Y/n it looked like a spectacle of heaven. “It’s wonderful.”

Wilbur led her into the camaravan, where battle plans and declarations had been hung and placed about, with an occasional empty bottle or a misplaced piece of weaponry.

Y/n had fought in wars before, in another life, far from this server. She had played the part of diplomat, of ally, of enemy. It was all a language familiar to her like breathing, and she suspected Wilbur was well aware, why else would he write begging her to join the front lines?

She hummed in thought, running her hands over a tabletop. “When’s the next battle, then?”

“Tomorrow.” Wilbur replied simply.

Y/n nodded. “Okay. Where do we start?”

Wilbur smiled once more.

—

The Death…

Y/n struggled against Quackity’s hold, screaming her throat raw. “YOU KILLED HIM!”

Smoke from the firework barrage still lingered on the execution box, Schlatt turning from his podium to Y/n. He smirked. “Y/n, my dear, he was a traitor. You know what happens to traitors.”

Y/n spat at his feet, the man laughing. “That’s cute. Remember Y/n, I hold all the cards in my hands. You don’t want to step out of line, remember? Who knows what secrets could get spilled.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Y/n glared, her eyes like fire as the two stood off against each other on the podium under Manberg’s watching eyes. “Because I am going to fucking kill you before you even think about it.”

Schlatt laughed loudly again, facing the crowd. “Do you hear that, folks? Miss Y/n is going to kill me!” He lowered his voice, leaning so he was face to face with her. “That’s treason, my friends.”

Y/n hardened her eyes, as Quackity let her arms go. She stepped forwards, her hand on the hilt of her sheathed sword. Everything was quiet, not the crowd’s jabs or cries were heard by her, not even Niki’s protests to spare her best friend.

Schlatt smiled, unsheathing his own sword as Y/n stood her ground, preparing to produce her own in hopes of taking down the tyrannical man once and for all.

“These were not the ideals of L’manberg.” Y/n shouted so the audience could hear her. “And Manberg should be no different. And I’m getting really fucking tired of you hurting everyone and everything I love. So yeah, I’m a traitor, because I value people over a country.”

“People you’d be willing to lose a life for?” Schlatt jeered.

“Time and time again, yes.” She verified.

Schlatt shook his head in amusement. “Y/n, the patron saint of L’manberg. You’ll fall as easily as any man.”

Y/n smirked, drawing her own sword. “Good thing I’m not a man then, yes?”

“STOP! Stop!”

The two adversaries’ heads whipped over, catching the glimpse of a tall brunette in a brown trench coat walking down the aisle of seats, hands out in a preventative gesture. “Stop.”

“Wil…?” The man who left her behind. The man who promised safety. The man who most importantly, loves her. The former President, to protect his former First Lady.

Schlatt’s sword ran through Y/n’s body. Wilbur screamed.

The girl gasped, grasping Schlatt’s shoulder’s with tight fingers, looking at him in shock. He had gotten the upper hand. Y/n had never lost a duel, yet this one was over before it had even started because she did the one thing she had been trained to never do in battle.

Y/n found distraction in a lover.

Wilbur would always be her hubris.

Schlatt leaned over with booze-tainted breath to whisper in her ear. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He then ripped the sword out of her, and everything went black. The last thing Y/n heard before waking up laying in the soft grass of a forest was the sound of Wilbur shouting her name.

Y/n was killed by JSchlatt

—

The Stars…

Long ago, in a world different from where she was now, Y/n’s mother had taught her every constellation strewn across the night sky. The young girl would marvel at her mother, eyes shining with curiosity and awe as the soft-spoken woman would point to each cluster of stars.

Life was simple then, before war after war Y/n was forced to fight and win. Before aching loss and hurt.

Y/n laid on the angled roof of Philza’s house, her lips parted slightly as her eyes traced designs of warriors and beasts and lovers. Her breath fogged into the night sky, the girl indifferent to the cold surrounding her.

“Kid, what’re ya doin’?”

She flicked her eyes down to where Technoblade stood beneath her, staring up at her form with disinterest but yet a glint of confusion or curiosity.

Y/n smirked, her eyes traveling back up to the sky. “Chasing constellations.”

Technoblade definitely had the right idea to be a tint worried at the sight of Y/n on a roof, staring off into nothing. It had been a week and a half since they had both blown up New L’manberg, and her mind was undoubtedly conflicted. Techno supposed if he were in the same situation, he’d feel the same perhaps. But now (though he’d never show it) he was just concerned of the well-being of his old friend.

So Technoblade was immensely surprised when Y/n patted a spot on the roof next to her and said: “cmon”.

The blood god was silent and still for a moment before pulling out his trident, using it to launch himself up and land gracefully onto the roof next to her. The girl didn’t flinch a bit, just turned back to the night sky.

Y/n looked tired, Techno noticed, but yet relieved. He hadn’t seen her this relaxed since their last war fought together away from this server, where she had spoken of a kindhearted brunette she was running away with after the battle’s conclusion.

Technoblade sat next to her, the girl sighing. “No more wars, Techno. I’ve fought my last one. I’m tired of being a pawn in someone’s game, of breaking myself for others.” Y/n huffed out a laugh. “I think I might try that retirement plan.”

“Retirement is overrated.” Technoblade groaned. “So if I made you an offer, you’d refuse?”

Y/n shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her kneecaps. “Depends on the offer. I’m pretty done being taken advantage of.”

Techno turned to look at her. “All these years and you don’t trust the proof I wouldn’t.”

“Can’t blame a girl for having trust issues.” She grumbled. “What’s the offer?”

“I’m putting together a group of people with common ideals. Anarchy, we’d be there to abolish these kingdoms’ governments before they can cause more death and destruction, cause more Wilburs.” Techno explained, the girl turning to him at the sound of her ex-lover’s name. “We’re called the Syndicate.”

Y/n murmured the name to herself, furrowing her eyebrows. “Who’s we?”

“Philza and I. Zephyrus and Prostileus. And, potentially, you.” He stated. “Codenames.”

She turned back to the stars, silent for a few minutes. Technoblade patiently sat in the quiet, letting the girl mull over her thoughts. It had been about five minutes when he spoke up. “So? What’ll it be?”

Y/n pursed her lips, before parting them with a soft exhale. “Andromeda… call me Andromeda.”

Technoblade smiled at his old comrade in battle, now considered an ally and friend.

“Welcome to the Syndicate, Andromeda.”

—

The Secret…

Y/n wasn’t sure how long she had sat in the makeshift cell. Had it been days? Weeks? She didn’t know. All she knew was locked away to stand trial for “aiding fugitives in escaping”.

Her thoughts drifted to Wilbur, as they usually did in moments like these, where she fought desperately to remember the sound of his laughter or his loving assurances. Y/n hoped he and Tommy were safe, and she knew they were smart so they would be.

But she feared for Fundy as well. They had spoken on the night he announced his campaign for president, their hushed voices behind the podium as the rest of the server were asleep.

Y/n met the boy in the shadows of the podium, Fundy looking at her for some kind of reaction. Would she shout in anger? Cry in sadness? Running against his father was a betrayal, he should be reprimanded by the closest thing to a mother he had.

Instead, she smiled, and hugged him.

Fundy tensed in surprise before wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder as his hands clutched the back of her jacket.

“You know I have to support and stand by your father,” she started, softly rubbing small circles into Fundy’s back. “but it will never overshadow how proud I am of you.”

“Thank you, mama.” He sighed out, Y/n smiling kindly.

“You are my pride and you are my joy, Fundy. There’s nothing you could do that could make me love you less. Don’t forget that, okay?” Y/n asked.

Fundy nodded his head against his mother figure’s shoulder, still embracing her.

He missed the tears in her eyes as she bit her lip to keep her walls up. Indulging in this moment wasn’t something she was deserving of, and she knew that.

She had chosen to forego this path, it would be unfair of her to try and act as though she hadn’t changed everything.

The door to empty room creaked open, Y/n looking up to meet the eyes of a man she had once thought of as an old friend, but now some who repulsed her more than anything on this server. The man smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Y/n. Long time, no see.”

“Schlatt.” The name sounded like venom on her tongue, Y/n glaring at the man with dark eyes.

“How are you, hm?” Schlatt pulled a chair over for him to sit on, Y/n scoffing in disbelief.

“I don’t know Schlatt, you tell me. What the fuck is wrong with you, you were our friend!” She shouted.

Schlatt sat back in his hair. “I’m no one’s friend here. I’m a president here to run this country.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall, the man smirking.

“I want you to join me.”

That made the girl start to laugh, shaking her head. “You are something else, Schlatt.”

“I’m serious, I want you to join me and Manberg.” Schlatt deadpanned.

“Fuck off.” was Y/n’s reply.

Schlatt sighed, standing from where he sat, and paced to another side of the room. “Tell me, does your little lover boy have an infatuation with TNT?”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “Not that I’m aware, and if I was I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Fair enough.” Schlatt said, his footsteps clacking against stone as he further paced. “Well, he recently made some deals with the devil and came into possession of a lot of fucking TNT. You wanna know what he traded for that much power? Secrets.”

She stiffened, eyeing Schlatt warily, her voice barely above a whisper. “Secrets?”

Schlatt hummed, grinning. “Oh yeah. Loads of ‘em. I’m a chronic eavesdropper, so I had to get the scoop. And you’ll never guess what I heard.”

Y/n stood slowly, like an animal bracing for a fight, her fists shaking. She uttered the man’s name in warning, Schlatt stopping and turning to her with a wicked grin.

“You have a child.”

It felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, Y/n momentarily forgetting how to breathe. Her mouth felt dry, her body numb. Schlatt laughed, knowing he had her right where he wanted her.

“Fundy’s actually your son! Biologically and everything! And you never told him, you just left!” Schlatt exclaimed.

Y/n burst forwards, slamming Schlatt against the wall and lodging her forearm across his throat. She spoke with a low, dangerous voice. “I was young. I was stupid. And I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I couldn’t be the mother he needed.”

“So you left. And then you come back and you play the part of his mother, while the poor boy thinks your lover fucked a fish? That’s fucked up, Y/n.” He chuckled lowly.

Y/n pursed her lips, glaring into Schlatt’s eyes. “What do you want?”

Schlatt slowly removed Y/n’s forearm from his throat. “I want you to join me as one of my officials. I want you to betray Wilbur and Tommy. And if you don’t…”

“… I tell Fundy your big secret… and then I personally kill him until he’s dead.”

Y/n felt completely and absolutely defeated. She had never let someone have the upper hand on her. Not like this. She remained distraughtly silent, Schlatt nodding Ashe received his answer.

He reached into his pocket, throwing her comm device onto the floor. “Lover boy’s been trying to call you for weeks. You should call him back one last time and tell him to never call again. You know what’s at stake.” Schlatt then turned and walked towards the door. “I’ll have a fine pressed suit for you tomorrow morning and a more comfortable room, then the real work begins. Goodnight, Y/n.”

And he was gone.

Y/n fell to her knees, her body shaking with fear and guilt. Why did she have to be so stupid why did she have to create such deep-sewn weaknesses, why did she leave her son?

She reached for the comms device, her trembling fingers clicking a button as she spoke out in a terrified whisper. “Wilbur?”

—

The meeting…

Y/n hated parties with a passion she could not fathom. The celebration of another war won, a country saved. She was just a wandering soldier, moving from one battle to the next, finding celebration a little tone-deaf.

But nonetheless she stood in the banquet hall, her sash of medals and patches detailing her great accomplishments hung on her frame, with the world’s most uncomfortable dress covering her. Technoblade had told Y/n to liven up, drink and dance a little, though what a fucking hypocrite because he didn’t show up.

Y/n sipped her champagne, leaning against the bar top, a bored expression laid across her face as she traced circles into the wood with her finger. She didn’t register the boy standing next to her, eying her with curiosity before he spoke up. “One vodka neat, please.”

She finally indulged to meet his gaze, the tall brunette smiling and offering his hand. “Wilbur Soot.”

Y/n knocked back the rest of her champagne, before shaking his hand. “Y/n L/n.”

“You seem bored, Y/n L/n.” Wilbur observed.

She scoffed. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“So I can tell.” He quipped, Y/n beginning to question the audacity of this kid. But he just smiled widely, pulling a stool and sitting next to her.

“Look, I don’t know what you want, but if it’s getting in my pants tonight it’s definitely not happening.” Y/n bluntly responded.

“Woah there! Take me out to dinner before we discuss that.” Wilbur defended, retrieving his drink from the bartender.

Y/n couldn’t even tell if the man was joking, but she rolled her eyes anyways. He was silent, she could tell he was trying to size her up. Figure out what made her brain tick, how to read her.

Must be frustrating for him to know he can’t.

She sighed, pulling away from the bar top, smoothing out her despised dress. “Well, thanks for the chat Wilbur, but I’d best be going.”

“Of course. Have a good night, Y/n.” Wilbur raised his drink and tipped it towards her in a kind of toasting or saluting gesture. She was a high ranked militia official anyways.

Y/n nodded and walked away, Wilbur watching her as she left. What she didn’t know, was he could read her like an open book. He saw her pain, her guilt, her stone disposition. But he saw her kindness, her generosity, her beauty. Wilbur was intoxicated by the mere presence of her, and her mystery.

Wilbur just had a gut feeling they’d cross paths again. And when they did, maybe in a space she was more comfortable than the loud and cheering party, maybe he’d offer her a drink, or even a dance. The boy slammed his drink on the table before standing, and rushing across the room.

Why wait when you know?

Y/n felt a gentle hand on her wrist, the girl turning to see Wilbur. She raised an eyebrow in question as he released his soft grip, and held his palm flat out in front of her. “May I have this dance.”

She had seen years of pretty boys offering her drinks and dances and the world. Each disappointed, each never following through. But Y/n looked up at Wilbur, and she could see the world in his brown eyes, she could see hope and chivalry and mirth. She pursed her lips, the boy seeming to deflate at her monotone and silent response.

Y/n took his hand, to the boy’s surprise. “One dance. That’s all.”

They danced all night. And laughed all night, more than Y/n had in years.

Y/n had never felt more alive than the night she met Wilbur Soot.

[marmosa]

you’re no fun.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: none, i barely proof read this so maybe shitty writing?

A/N: i wrote this for my friend after she pitched me the idea, so this one goes out to her <3 i’m not too confident with this piece but i really do like the second half. hope you guys enjoy :)

***

“We are not talking about this again.”

“Oh come on [y/n], don’t be like that!”

“Fred, I’ve already told you a million times, I’m not telling you who I want to ask me to the ball and I’m most certainly not telling you who I fancy,” [y/n] scoffed, tightening her grip on the books cradled to her chest.

“You’re no fun,” Fred huffed, slouching his shoulders and finally falling back into step with her, “you know if you just told me I could get him to ask you-,”

“I’m quite literally seconds away from hexing you and getting myself banned from the ball all together, don’t try your luck Weasley,” [y/n] narrowed her eyes, the threat ever present in her words.  

“That is the most Slytherin thing you’ve ever said,” Fred paused, a shit-eating grin pulling onto his lips, “Don’t tell me you want some stuck up bad mouther to ask you to the ball?”

[y/n] stopped in her tracks and looked at him an expression so surprised she might as well have been staring at one of the silly little creatures Lovegood was always going on about, “And so what if I did? What’s it to you?”

Her answer seemed to have taken Fred aback as pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to think of a reply. It was [y/n]’s turn to smirk as she chuckled to herself, proud she’d been able to stun him into silence, “Finally gave up, huh?”

As soon as the words left her mouth she was quick to regret it, Fred snapping back to reality, “You honestly think that was going to stop me? I am going to watch you like a Hyppogriff watches its lunch, I’ll get my answer whether you like it or not.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep on dreaming Weasley,” she hummed, trying not to let on that she was just as amused as he was hoping she’d be, “I’ll see you later, Fred.”

“Adieu!” He called from down the hall as he sprinted to make it to his next class on time after insisting on walking her to class.

“Adieu,” she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes in a feeble attempt to sooth the rising pace of her heart.

***

“I think I’ve figured it out.”

[y/n] groaned loudly and banged her head forward onto the table as Fred slid into the seat next to her. She lolled her head to the side and glared up at him, which he ignored and returned the sentiment with a grin.

“He’s a Gryffindor,” Fred claimed triumphantly, his grin only growing wider when [y/n]’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, “So Tessa didn’t lie to me!”

“Of course she told you, oh my god,” [y/n] turned her face back towards the table to hide her panicked expression.

“Well not everything, that was the only hint she gave me if it makes you feel better,” Fred shrugged, noticing her pinched brows and clenched hands in her lap.

“Oh thank the heavens,” she exhaled deeply, sitting back up and digging her palms into her eyes, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Why’s that? Scared I’m gonna tell him?” Fred teased, poking her in the side.

She swat his hand away and passed him a deadpan stare, “As if, you wouldn’t do it if I asked you not to.”

Fred’s cheeks tinged red which he quickly tried to hide as he tipped his chin up, crossing his arms over his chest, “that’s entirely not true.”

“Whatever you say Freddie,” [y/n] hummed, chuckling to herself and turning back to her papers.

“Say, have you gotten your dress yet? Tessa told me you were gonna go regardless of a partner,” Fred questioned, leaning his cheek onto his balled up fist, a small smile pulling onto his lips when she looked over at him with an excited glint in her eyes.

“It did! Wanna see it? I can show you now, potions work can wait,” She squealed, shutting her books and shoving her papers into her bag, “let’s go!”

[y/n] grabbed Fred’s hand and dragged him out of the Great Hall, pulling him along for most of the way until they reached the staircases. Fred looked down at her with a soft smile as she rambled on about the detailing and the pretty colors of the gown, an endearing look plastered on his face.

“Wait-!” [y/n] exclaimed as they stopped outside the dormitory entrance, the painting watching them both with nosy interest, “I can’t show you yet, it has to be a surprise for the actual ball!”

“Well then why the bloody hell did you drag me all the way out here?” Fred whined, pouting and reaching forward to poke her side again.

She swat at his hands again, “would you cut that out! Bloody hell, you’re dance partner is going to hate you if this is how you’re gonna treat her.”

“Well the jokes on you, I don’t have a dance partner,” Fred huffed, crossing his arms and marching off in the opposite direction.

“Wait, you don’t?” [y/n] asked incredulously, jogging to catch up with him, “why haven’t you asked her yet?

Fred pursed his lips and avoided her curious gaze, “because I’m worried she’s not going to say yes,” he admit quietly.

“I know it’s not fair of me to ask but who did you even have in mind, I might know if she’ll say yes! I frankly know far more than I’d like to about other people’s romantic endeavors, so I might have an answer,” [y/n] explained, looking up at him with eyes full of hope, her nerves hidden beneath still biting at her insides.

Fred swallowed his heartbeat and shrugged, trying his absolute best to calm the red starting to flush his face, “Since I’m not a stubborn git like you,” he paused as she scoffed jokingly, “I was thinking of asking,” his eyes scanned the hallway as he struggled to find an answer that wasn’t the girl standing by his side, his brain finally digging up a person, “Angelina. Yeah, I was thinking of asking Johnson.”

[y/n]’s heart sank to the bottom of her chest, a gaping hole starting to form where her heart had previously been, “Oh. Well, I know Angelina hasn’t take a particular fancy to anyone, so you should be all set. I can always ask her what she thinks of you too, if you want a more solid answer,” [y/n] muttered, trying her best to maintain whatever resolve she was clinging to that kept her tears at bay.

Fred noted the way she sunk into herself and tightened her grip around her books, the light bulb in his head flickering to life- was she upset?

“Thank you for the, uh, offer. I might just take you up on it,” Fred chuckled softly, trying to ease his own emotions while searching for a possible answer as to why she could be upset over this. He’d have to ask Tessa later.

“Of course, well, I have to head off to my next class, see you around Fred,” She pulled a tight-lipped smile, turning on her heel and hopping onto the nearest staircase, leaving Fred alone as she was lifted to the upper floor.

“Well shit,” He cursed.

***

Three days had passed since the Fred’s crappy revelation and as far as [y/n] was concerned she felt no will to attend the next day. Fred had gone ahead and asked Angelina the way he said he would and she watched it happen during their study period to which she quickly made up an excuse to leave the scene.

Tessa had tried her absolute best to console her best friend but it was no use, she had gone through hell and back getting [y/n] to even agree to still attend the ball. Another boy had come to [y/n], but she politely declined, knowing that leading him on would have gotten her nowhere but in trouble.

“Excited to dance the night away tomorrow? I promise I’m a better partner than you’d think,” Tessa giggled, nudging [y/n] in the side.

[y/n] looked up from her hand that she was glaring at intently as she carefully painted her nails a pretty shade that one of their roommates had let her borrow, “excited as always. But you do know, I’m going to avoid you like the plague, right? I’m not ruining your night with Diana.”

“Oh please, she won’t die if I dance with you once!” Tessa rolled her eyes, falling back so she was splayed out over her bed,  “We’ve been dating for a year now, she won’t take it poorly.”

“Still, this is like a once in a moon opportunity. I don’t intend on ruining it,” [y/n] insisted, concrete in her conclusion.

“Goodness, fine! You’re such a hard-head. Just promise me you’ll at least try to have fun?” Tessa pleaded, sitting up to give [y/n] an serious look.

“Whatever soothes your soul,” [y/n] hummed, biting back a smile when Tessa rolled her eyes, falling back once more.

“You’re no fun,” Tessa groaned.

“Not the first time I’ve been told that.” [y/n] giggled.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, Fred says that to me a lot, he thinks I have a stick up my arse,”  [y/n] chuckled sadly, avoiding Tessa’s sympathetic gaze, “don’t look at me like that, I don’t want to think about it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Tessa held her hands up defensively.

“Mhm, sure.”

“Shut up.”

“Gladly.”

***

“Tessa!”

Tessa came to a halt in the nearly empty hall, glancing over her shoulder with a confused look as she saw Fred racing towards her. She turned around completely to face him as he skid to a halt in front of her, her brows knit together as she wondered what he could possibly be tracking her down for the morning of the yule ball.

“Hey Fred, what seems to be the problem?”

“I, uh, wanted to ask you a question,” Fred explained through labored breathes as he leaned over, balancing his hands on his knees.

“Shoot.”

“When I told [y/n] that I was asking Angelina to the ball a couple days ago, she looked really upset. And I wasn’t quite sure what to make of so I wanted to ask if she’d told you what had happened?” Fred explained, his heart hammering against his chest.

Tessa’s face fell, a grimace pulling onto her features, “Fred...,” her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Tessa sighed, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the side of hall to avoid the traffic of other students, “take a wild guess.”

“Well, the only answer I can think of is-,” his eyes widened as a feeling of panic set in, “-oh shit,” Fred felt sick.

“Who did you think that Gryffindor was? Why did you think she left the Great Hall when you asked Angelina? Why did you think she was fine all the way up until she’d found out you asked Angelina? Fred, you’re by no means stupid, but this has got to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” Tessa frowned, not knowing whether to sympathize with his situation or be mad at him.

“I-,” Fred searched for an excuse, but came up blank, “I had no idea. What am I suppose to do now?”

“Well you certainly can’t drop Angelina, not on the morning of the ball. And I don’t think [y/n] is going to want to feel like a last minute option either,” Tessa sighed and shook her head, “I truly can’t offer you much advice here, I think you’re just gonna have to muscle this one out.”

“Yeah,” Fred muttered, dragging his hands down his face, “Thanks Tessa.”

“Mhm,” Tessa offered him a half-hearted smile, “Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it.”

***

“You look lovely,” [y/n] smiled softly at her best friend in the mirror, zipping up the back of her dress, “Diana is gonna love it.”

“She better, we picked it out together,” Tessa laughed, smoothing out the creases on the bodice.

“Well in that case, she most certainly will love it,” [y/n] beamed.

“Aside from me, look at yourself, you’re just as beautiful as I knew you would be when we took it out of the parcel last week,” Tessa grinned, turning around to face [y/n] who was practically glowing with joy.

“You flatter me,” [y/n] scoffed playfully, dusting off invisible particles off her shoulder, “but thank you.”

“Of course,” Tessa nodded, “you ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” [y/n] exhaled, rolling her shoulders to sooth the nerves prickling at her skin.

“Then off we go!” Tessa cheered, hooking elbows with [y/n].

The two girls made their way down the stairs towards the Great Hall, eventually splitting off near the entrance when Tessa had to go find Diana among the gaggle of Hufflepuff’s nearby. [y/n] waved bye to her friend, turning on her heel and heading down towards the two main staircases, her hands clutching her dress so tightly she was sure it was going to tear in her fingers.

At the bottom of the staircase stood Fred, George, Seamus, and Oliver all chatting up a storm as they waited for their dates to arrive and join them before heading into the venue. The group of boys suddenly fell quiet when a hushed whisper fell over some of the groups surrounding them, turning around to the source of the sudden change in atmosphere.

“Holy shit,” Fred gasped quietly.

[y/n] descended the stairs, her gown billowing behind her. She looked positively radiant in the soft lighting of the candle lit corridors, her hair done in a way that framed her face perfectly. She carried herself like a queen down the steps, the bodice holding her up like an ancient Greek statue.

“Dude,” George muttered, elbowing Fred lightly, “do you know who she came with?”

“No one, I think, I heard she rejected one of Slytherin heartthrob’s,” Seamus whistled under his breath, answering George in Fred’s place.

Fred couldn’t take his eyes off her, his mind reeling. They way she described the dress didn’t half encompass the way she looked wearing it. Maybe it was good thing she didn’t show him that day, he would have become a complete blubbering mess had she worn it then.

“Are you gonna go talk to her?” George urged, nudging Fred slightly.

Fred finally snapped out of his trance and turned back around, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shaking his head, “I asked Angelina to the ball. It wouldn’t be fair to her for me to start the night off with another girl.”

“That’s for certain, it’s a sure sad thing she came alone though,” Oliver noted, shaking his head.

“I heard it’s because the person she likes asked someone else.”

The boys turned their heads to see Angelina and Clover, Seamus’s date, walking over. Fred felt his heart only sink further when he saw just how lovely Angelina had done herself up for the night, knowing full well he wasn’t at all going to give what she’d come for.

“Is that so?” George hummed, glancing at his brother who looked downright ill, “Well let’s not jump to assumptions, maybe she’s just independent like that.”

“Good point, it’s just something I caught in the girls restroom,” Angelina shrugged, “You boys ready to head in?”

“Seamus and Fred can go on ahead, We’ll stay and wait for our dates,” Oliver nodded towards the doors leading to the Great Hall.

“You’re sure?” Seamus asked, hooking arms with Clover.

“Certain,” George concluded, “See you boys in a bit,” he reached over patting his brother’s back reassuringly.

“See you,” Fred smiled, hooking arms with Angelina, leading her inside.

***

[y/n] sat at a table alone, smiling to herself as she watched Tessa and Diana dance across the ballroom floor, trying to pick out her roommates and their dates while she sipped her punch. She fiddled idly with the folded fabric in her lap, rubbing the material between her fingers to occupy her mind.

“Are you certain you don’t want to dance with me?” Tessa exhaled, both her and Diana stumbling over to the table as the most recent song came to an end.

“I need a break anyway and you look bored to death over here, go have some fun!” Diana teased, plopping down in a seat and slipping off her heels.

“I promise I will not step on your toes,” Tessa reassured [y/n], extending her hand.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” [y/n] rolled her eyes, taking her hand and rushing off to the dance floor.

The two girls swayed around the dance floor, giggling as they dipped and spun each other unexpectedly, thankfully avoiding each other toes as promised. The surrounding couples all seemed to be enjoying themselves as well, platonic, romantic, or otherwise. [y/n] was overwhelmed with thankfulness at having such kind and caring friends, especially at times like this.

“You know, I hate to be a party pooper,” Tessa started, dipping [y/n] and pulling her back up, “but Fred has been staring at you since the ball started.”

[y/n] felt her eyes go wide as she processed the admittance, looking around the seating area frantically, her mouth running dry when she locked eyes with Fred who was being less than conspicuous staring directly at her.

She snapped her gaze back to Tessa as the song came to an end, “I think I need a breath of fresh air, I won’t be gone long!”

Before Tessa could offer a reply, [y/n] was rushing off, dashing out of the crowd and out to a nearby balcony to get some cold winter air in her lungs and against her sticky skin.

Fred watched [y/n] run out of the Great hall, his brows pinching together as he wondered what could possibly be wrong. Before he could get too sucked into his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulders.

“Go to her,” Angelina demanded.

“What?”

“I’ve been watching you this entire night and the only other thing you’ve been doing aside from dancing has been staring at her. You’re a fool if you say otherwise,” Angelina deadpanned a-matter-a-factly.

“But I don’t want to leave-,”

“Oh please, you think you’re my only option? Don’t flatter yourself Weasley. Now go, before she talks herself into getting over you,” Angelina huffed, nodding her head in the direction [y/n] left.

“I’m sorry, and thank you,” Fred smiled, hopping out of his seat and running after [y/n].

***

[y/n] sat on one of the benches outside a little ways away from the Great Hall, far enough for some seclusion but still near enough to hear the music. She blinked back tears threatening to fall and ruin her makeup, frustrated with herself for getting worked up after having a great time with her best friend only moments ago.

“You’re a fool,” [y/n] muttered to herself, resting her forehead on her wrist, elbows balanced on her knees.

The cold ended up being just what she had need, the cool air blanketing her in the relief she’d wanted from the suffocatingly hot Hall. Her head snapped up as she heard footsteps approach, a panic setting in despite the relative safeness of campus.

“[y/n]?” A familiar voice called.

“Fred?” [y/n] replied confusedly, turning her head the opposite direction to fan at her eyes to hide the tears the were previously glistening there.

“Oh thank goodness it’s you,” He exhaled, skidding to a stop in front of her, “I was worried I had just bothered some couple getting it on.”

[y/n] scrunched her nose in disgust and felt a laugh bubble out from between her lips, “Hello to you too, Fred.”

Fred’s cheeks hued red, the color spreading to the tips of his ears, “Hey.”

“What’re you doing here? Didn’t you come with Angelina?” [y/n] questioned, cocking her head to the side.

“I did, but uhm, but plans changed,” Fred explained, struggling to piece together the smooth talker persona he usually sported.

“Changed? Well that’s not abnormal coming from you, Mr. spontaneous,” [y/n] teased.

“Yup, you’ve caught me,” Fred chuckled, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I guess I have,” [y/n] hummed, “but, truly, what brought you out here?”

“Well, it’s a long story, okay, it’s actually a short story,” Fred started to ramble, unsure exactly how he was suppose to lead up to “hey I’m in love with you” in this particular situation, “I was stupid and I made a lot of mistakes and it shouldn’t have taken me so long to notice but it did and I desperately want to fix my mistakes and I don’t know how to without being direct at this point because explaining everything would take us forever but I like you [y/n]. More than I’d care to admit.”

[y/n] sat there stunned, her mind reeling as she processed his confession, the heat she’d come outside to cool quickly rushing back, “I-,”

“I would say that it’s okay if you don’t like me back but I did all the emotional maths and I put the pieces together after Tessa practically knocked the sense into me and I know I’m the Gryffindor you we’re talking about so you can’t say no unless Angelina was right and you did talk yourself out of liking me any-,” Fred continued on, his eyes anywhere but [y/n]’s face, before he felt her hands placed gently on his cheeks turning him to face her.

“Shut up and kiss me Weasley.”

A smitten smile pulled itself onto his lips which was quickly swallowed with [y/n]’s own lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her impossibly closer, relishing in the feeling of her lips against his and the soft patterns her thumbs traced across his freckled skin.

When they pulled away Fred couldn’t help himself but to break into laughter, swaying her side to side with him in excitement. She laughed giddily along with him, squealing delightfully when he picked her up and spun her around before quickly settling her back down on the snow dusted floor.

“I think now would be a good time to tell you that you look absolutely radiant tonight,” Fred sighed in a hushed tone, cupping her cheek in his palm

[y/n] looked down and pressed her lips together to hide her smile, suddenly shy of his admiration filled gaze. He chuckled and tipped her head back up to face him, “don’t get embarrassed on me now!”

“I’m not embarrassed! Just happy,” [y/n] shrugged, placing her hand over his wrist tenderly, squeezing gently.

“Well that’s good news, I’d be proper worried if it was anything else,” Fred laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest.

[y/n] rolled her eyes playfully at his comment, “I guess I should tell you that you also look quite lovely tonight too. Molly truly outdid herself.”

“Oooo someone thinks I’m handsome,” Fred wiggled his eyebrows.

“Hmph, you’ve gone and ruined it, leave me be,” [y/n] wrestled herself out of his grip, teasingly walking off.

“You’re no fun! Come back here,” Fred groaned, grabbing her wrist and tugging her back into his arms, “you hear that? I think they’re starting a new waltz.”

“Should we head back inside then?” [y/n] suggested, “it is kind of cold out here.”

“Nah, it’s cramped in there anyways,” Fred shook his head, shrugging off his robes and wrapping them around her shoulders, “that ‘ought to do it. So, [y/l/n], would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?”

“I most certainly would,” [y/n] smiled, taking his hand in hers and placing the other on his shoulder, “don’t step on my toes now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, but no promises,” Fred grinned, placing his hand on her waist.

“Me neither,” [y/n] giggled, leaning forward to give him a chaste kiss as the music started.

“Hold on tight, I’m gonna give you the best dance of your night,” Fred declared, standing tall.

“Don’t let Tessa hear you she might kick your arse,” [y/n] warned him, giggling at the faux fear that washed over his face.

“Pish posh, she’ll survive the blow to her ego, now shut up and dance with me  [y/n].”

“Gladly, Freddie.”

[moon-light-jukebox]

“All you have to do is ask.” Chapter 3 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid and Reader continue their conversation at his apartment. Reader explains some of her rules and realizes just how quickly she’ll break them for our pretty boy. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature (this one has smut, y’all.)

Word Count: 4.2k for Chapter 3

Content Warnings: BDSM themes, femdom themes, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, vaginal fingering. Just smutty smut.

A/n: Thank you so much for sticking with me, my darlings. I’ve only been writing on this account for 5 days and the love I’ve received is overwhelming. As promised, here is chapter 3, which is filled with sexual tension and Spencer Reid smut, a day earlier than promised.

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized texts are Reader’s thoughts.

-- Chapter 3: Do you kiss your submissives?”--

Spencer Reid’s apartment was exactly what I expected. The only clutter in the whole place were his books, which were overflowing from everywhere. I didn’t see a TV or any sort of modern technology besides a phone line. The walls were a dark green, the windows on the far wall were huge, offering amazing natural light, I was sure.

He placed his bag by the door before he moved into the apartment. “D-do you want anything, Y/n?”

“I’m fine, Doc.” I moved to sit down on his couch before patting the cushion beside me. He moved to the couch quickly, briefly debating if he should sit where I had indicated or sit further from me. “C’mon, Doc. I’ll only bite if you ask me to.” I tried to say it like it was a joke. It wasn’t, but I’m not sure if Spencer knew that.

He sat beside me, his back ramrod straight, his knees together, fingers drumming nervously against his thighs.

“Well, you’ve got me right where you want me, Doc. Ask away,” I said lightly.

He bit his lip; I saw him struggling with himself. “…why is it a conversation you avoid?”

Jesus fuck. “Because it makes me uncomfortable, Spencer,” my voice had a slight edge to it. I don’t want to talk about this.

My nervous boy licked his lips, his eyes shifted to the wall across the room; his eyes ran over the books I’m sure he’s read thousands of times. “Did…did-,” he cleared his throat. “No one hurt you, did they?”

Is that my heart that just cracked a little bit? “No, Spencer. No one hurt me in the way you’re thinking.” It took everything within me not to reach out and touch him. How could his mind not jump to the worst conclusion given the work that we do? “My heart is the only part of me that was hurt. I trusted the wrong person.” A mistake I won’t make again.

I saw his posture relax as he released a deep breath he’d been holding. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.” My sweet boy. The things I want to do to you. He shifted, still never meeting my eyes. “Well…if you don’t let them…fuck you, then what do you get out of it? Do you still have…have an o-orgasm with them?”

“Sometimes,” was my answer. “Sometimes I’ll turn them into a whimpering little mess and then I just leave. Sometimes, I touch myself while I’m with them, so they can watch me cum.” Spencer’s breathing was so heavy now. Does he feel this too? This pulsing that seemed to run through my entire body. “My memory isn’t as good as yours, but once I leave, I usually finish myself up at home, thinking about how they begged and cried for me.”

I heard him whimper. He didn’t try to hide it, shifting in his seat again. I felt myself throb at the sound, at the thought of him making a sound like that under me. I had tried to reign myself in while I was in the car, not letting this affect me. This was different. We were in his house, I could smell him, I could almost feel him. I didn’t need to check to know my panties were getting damp, especially after hearing that fucking sound.

He wasn’t going to make the first move; it simply wasn’t in him. “Spencer? What do you want? I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me. All you have to do is ask.”

He took a deep breath, clasping his hands together to stop them from trembling. “…w-w-what do you look for? What sort of…guys do you like?” His voice was so unsure, he was so afraid that I was going to say something and hurt him. The thought cracked my heart open further. This sweet, sweet man.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” His response was so quick I had to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

I placed my hand on his arm, staying on his shirt, careful to never touch his skin. I skimmed my fingers up higher while I turned my body more towards him. I could see his pulse beating in his neck. "My poor, nervous boy," I said softly, so softly I'm surprised he heard me. But from the way his eyes closed, and his hands clenched, I knew he had. His breathing sped up the closer I got to his neck.

Finally, finally, finally, I let my fingers move up to the collar of his button-up shirt. He felt my nails first as they grazed over the skin of his neck, brushing slowly towards the other side, up to that jaw I had admired since the moment I met him. With light pressure, I turned his face towards me; I was pleased when he didn't resist.

“I don’t think I have a type, I like all sorts of people,” my voice was a little bit more raspy than normal, my words soft. “I especially like shy boys with beautiful messy hair and glasses.”

The small smile on his face at my words warmed a place in my heart I hadn’t felt for such a long time.

He licked his lips, his eyes searching mine; looking for something that I would give him…if only he asked. His voice was no more than a whisper, “Do you normally kiss your submissives?”

“No,” I said, unprepared for the look of disappointment that crossed his face. “No, I usually don’t kiss my submissives. But…I think I could make an exception.” There was no way I wasn’t going to kiss that beautiful mouth of his, my normal rules be damned.

His golden-brown eyes locked on to mine; and for the first time in a very long time, I felt like someone could see every part of me. Spencer Reid looked at me and I felt like he could see all my secrets that were buried far beneath the surface. The way he looked at me made my heart flutter, my thighs clinch, and my mouth go dry.

He terrified me.

Spencer’s tongue ran over his bottom lip, his eyes moving from my lips back up to my eyes. “Are you sure?”

In that moment I wasn’t sure of a lot, but I was starting to understand that my usual defenses were no match for this man. “I’m sure.”

His hands were soft when he cupped my face in his palms, slowly moving his thumb over my cheek. It felt like it took a lifetime for his lips to finally brush over mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I’d kissed other people before, but I had never felt a hunger like this. Spencer’s lips moved over mine hesitantly, my nervous boy was still so unsure. I moved my hands to the back of his head, tangling my fingers in those light brown curls I had admired for so long.

Our kiss grew more urgent like we both felt how fleeting this perfect moment was. The rain was pouring, Spencer Reid's mouth was moving over mine, his tongue flicking over my lips, seeking entrance, and I was so wrapped up in him that I forgot what I was so afraid of.

I sucked Spencer’s tongue into my mouth, the action pulling a moan from deep in his throat. My hands were moving down his body urgently; Spencer’s hands stayed on my cheeks. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll stop him if he tries to touch me.

My mouth broke away from his, gasping for air. I ran my hands down his body while my mouth trailed over to his ear, planting wet kisses along his jaw. “Tell me what you want, baby,” I whispered in his ear before I gently took his earlobe between my teeth.

Spencer hissed, his hips shift, seeking some sort of friction. “I…I don’t know.”

He couldn’t see my smile as I kissed down his neck until I got to his pulse point, biting and sucking the skin lightly. He’d have a mark, but I couldn’t resist. I wanted some proof tomorrow that this was real.

“If I do something you’re not okay with you have to tell me.” He nodded quickly. “No, I need you to say it, Spencer.”

“I will,” he said in that same breathy voice that I would remember for the rest of my life. “But I don’t think you’ll do anything I don’t like.”

He had far too much trust in me, but I wasn't going to betray it. Rising up, I pulled up my skirt before I swung my left leg over him so that I was straddling his lap. I quickly started working on the buttons of his shirt.

“Y/n,” he said, causing me to pause. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to do with my hands.”

What a good boy he was already. “Put them along the back of the couch, baby. I’ll give you permission to touch me again when you’ve earned it.”

He nodded before leaning back further to put his arms where I wanted. His eyes darted down to where my lower body was pressed to his. Spencer Reid’s breath caught before he licked his lips and looked up towards his ceiling.

I continued unbuttoning his shirt. “What is it, baby?” I pushed his shirt open, my lips trailing down to his collarbone.

“I can…I can see your…panties,” he stumbled with his words. Whether he was uncomfortable with the words or simply overwhelmed, I couldn’t decide. I tilted my head, looking further down. My skirt was up around my hips, the piece of blue fabric covering my pussy was visible.

I leaned closer, my mouth going back to his ear as my hands went to his belt. “What’s wrong, Spencer? Do you not like them?” He shifted restlessly. “Or is it because they’re all wet?” He whimpered again, causing me to pull his chin down so he was facing me. “It’s all for you, you know. This is what you do to me.”

Something ignited in his eyes right before he brought his lips back to mine, his tongue swiping over my bottom lip, demanding entry. I opened for him on a sigh as I finally got his belt free. Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was such a good kisser. His tongue tangled with mine before he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly. When I moaned into the kiss, his hips bucked up, causing a jolt to run through my core.

“Can I take your pants off, Spencer?” I whisper against his mouth. I got a small nod before his mouth moved over mine again.

I undid his pants, slowly unzipping him before I pulled away. I'm embarrassed to say my legs were a bit shaky when I stood up. Who would have thought Spencer Reid would have this effect on me?

He lifted his hips as I tugged his boxers and pants down his thighs, his cock springing free and hitting his pelvis. He was a pretty boy; it makes sense he’d have a pretty cock. He was longer than I expected, not overly thick, but the veins were clearly visible. He was so hard it had to be almost painful for him. The head of his dick was wet from all his precum.

Spencer watched me carefully, unsure of where I was going to take this. I gave him a smile and dropped to my knees. “We’re not going to do anything crazy tonight, Doc,” I said, trailing my lips up one of his thighs, clenching my own at the whimper he made in response. “We’re just…getting acquainted.” My hand reached up and grabbed him at the base, stroking up to the head before running my thumb along the back, an area I was sure would be sensitive. His hips jerked, he let out another groan. “Is that what you want, Spencer?”

“Yes…yes, please.” His teeth were digging into his lip so hard I was afraid he might draw blood. His hands balled into fists along the back of the couch.

I couldn’t deny him, especially not after I heard him say please. I knew he’d be like this; I just knew it. I ran my tongue up the underside of his shaft before swirling it around his head. I kept my eyes on him the whole time, his hand released from the tight fist to grip the back of the couch.

I hollowed out my cheeks and took the head of his cock into my mouth. I sucked hard, earning another whimper. I pulled my mouth off and brought my palm to my mouth. I licked my palm, being sure to let some salvia pool in my hand before I wrapped it around his base again. I flicked my tongue over the slit of his dick, watching him closely. His stomach muscles were flexing in an effort to hold still. I began to work his cock into my mouth, taking more and more each time I went down, my hands stroking the part that my mouth hadn’t reached.

"Oh…oh my god, y/n," his head thrashed from side to side. He closed his eyes before I squeezed him harder. His eyes opened to meet mine. I pulled him out of my mouth, jerking him roughly.

“Look at you,” I murmured. “You’re already such a mess, Doctor.” He whined at my words, my hand continuing to move over this length. “I want you to watch me suck your cock. I want to hear you, Spencer, is that clear?” His cheeks were bright red, his breathing heavy as I continued to work his cock. He nodded, then said, “yes, ma’am.”

Hmm, ma’am, I thought. He might be a natural at this.

I took him back into my mouth. I worked up a rhythm that seemed to be what he wanted. I moved my hand off of him before I took him deeper into my mouth. His cock hit the back of my throat; I fought my gag reflex, swallowing around the tip of him.

“Fuck,” he whined. “Please, y/n. Please. I need you so much. Please, please.” He really was the most beautifulthing I had ever seen, especially when he was like this.

I moved back up his cock, pulling my mouth off, and gave him a smile. I kissed the tip before I said, "You can touch me now, Spencer. You've been such a good boy."

I took him back into my mouth, not missing the look on his face when I called him a good boy. It looked like somebody had a praise kink. Of course, he does, was all I could think.

He tentatively put his hands on my head, not applying any pressure, just following my movements. I reached up and pushed his hand more firmly on the back of my head, encouraging him. Spencer was ever the quick learner; he moved his hand, sliding it into my hair, gripping it and tugging ever so slightly. I closed my eyes and moaned around him, which caused him to grip my hair tighter and moan my name.

He started moving my head then. I relaxed, allowing him to move how he wanted. I watched as Dr. Spencer Reid, the quiet awkward man started to fuck my face, groaning every time his cock hit the back of my throat.

My eyes watered, saliva slipping from my mouth making his cock wetter.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m…I’m going to cum. Please. Please, let me cum. You feel so good. Please.”

I moaned around him, looking into his eyes the entire time. I thought I was ready to see what he looked like when he came. I wasn’t.

He breathed out a sound that might have been my name, his hands flexing on my head. His head was thrown back, the tendons of his neck were straining as he spilled down my throat. I swallowed reflexively, closing my eyes until his hands dropped from my head. I pulled off and gave him a few more strokes with my hand. His body spasmed; he was so sensitive and my touch was too much.

I moved my body back up onto the couch, my legs stiff from being on the hard floor for so long. A soft smile took over my face as I looked at the boy wonder. I never thought I would see this sight; Spencer Reid was completely wrecked…by me.

He raised his head and looked at me, his expression close to one of wonder. “That was…that was everything, y/n.”

I chuckled, pushing my hair behind my ear. “That was nothing, Doc,” I said smugly. “That was just a normal blowjob. If you let me, I could really show you everything.”

He smiled at me, his eyes running over me, his eyebrows furrowed like they did when he was thinking hard about something. “Y/n,” he began. “I…I want you to cum too.”

Spencer was nothing if not a gentleman. “It’s fine, Spence. I’ll just take this memory with me and take care of myself later.” I normally didn’t second guess my decision to have this boundary with my subs, but Spencer was making it difficult to not rethink it.

Shifting his body, he slowly brought his hand up to face, cupping my jaw again. “You have that memory,” he whispered. “But I’d like one of you. I really want to see you cum.” My breath shuddered; who knew a little bit of dirty talk from the pretty boy would affect me like this? “Even if you won’t let me f-fuck you, or touch you…please, I just want to help you feel good.”

My pussy was so wet, the throbbing was constant. I had my thighs clamped together, trying to get some sort of relief. I was making all kinds of exceptions today, so why not?

I nodded slowly, unable to contain my laugh at the look of victory that came over his face. “What…how do you usually do this, y/n?”

Keeping my eyes on him, I started to remove my shirt. His eyes raked over me quickly, I knew he was committing me to memory. Reaching behind my back, I unhooked my bra, taking a deep breath before I slid it off. "You can kiss me if you want. You can kiss any part of my body above my waist." Was that disappointment that flashed over his face? “I’ll…I’ll touch myself while you do that.”

I was so wet and aching, I knew this wouldn't take long. Spencer gripped my face in both of his hands and kissed me. This kiss was brief, but the same amount of passion was still there. His hand tentatively made its way up to my breast, brushing over my nipple softly before he took me in his hand. I moaned into the kiss as his thumb started to brush over my nipple more purposefully, my thighs squeezing tighter.

“You know,” he murmured into my skin, moving his lips down to mouth my throat. “Some women can orgasm from nipple stimulation alone. It’s rare, most women need clito-“

“Spencer, I am okay with hearing your facts anytime but right now,” I said, trailing my hand up my thigh.

He just chuckled. “Fair enough.” He moved his mouth down to my breast, taking my nipple into his mouth while his hand held the other, his thumb and forefinger tweaking that one while his tongue flicked over the other.

Of course, he is good with his mouth. I moved my hand up to the seam of my underwear. Pushing the wet fabric aside while I ran my finger up my folds. I couldn’t help the moan that tore from my throat at the sensation. I was just so wet.

Spencer pulled back from my chest to watch my hand, his attention on my finger as I slowly started circling my clit. He licked his lips, which may have been the hottest thing I had ever seen. “Y/n…” he trailed off, entranced by the movement of my hand, “Please let me touch you.” My breath caught, his left hand continuing to toy with my nipple. “I know you don’t normally. And I don’t understand why…it’s fine if you don’t want to. But please…please, I’ve thought about this for so long. Can I at least taste you on your fingers?”

Who knew Spencer Reid was this dirty? I moved my finger down, dipping it into my heat before I brought it back out. I brought my wet finger up to his mouth, staring in wonder as his lips wrapped around it. He sucked harshly, moaning at my taste, his eyes fluttering closed.

I blame how turned on I was for what I said next. “Spencer…you…you can use your hand.”

The look in his eyes made it seem like he knew what a big deal this was. He might not understand my reasoning, but he knew that me breaking my rule for him meant something, something important.

He leaned forward to kiss me, letting me taste the trace of myself on his lips. Then I felt his thumb ghost over my clit. My hips jerked and my thighs attempted to clamp together. I couldn’t remember the last time a hand that wasn’t my own touched me.

He pulled back, biting his lip as he looked at me. Pulling his hand back, he leaned forward and took my nipple into his mouth as he put a finger inside me. I was never going to be able to look at his hands again, not after I knew they could do this. He moved it in at out at a leisurely pace before he inserted another. He curled his fingers up until he found the spot that made me buck my hips and arch my back. Spencer smiled at me while his hand began to move faster. Only he could look so sweet at a time like this. “Tell me if I do something you don’t like, y/n,” he whispered. “I-I don’t have a lot of experience with this.”

He looked down again to watch his fingers move inside of me. Could have fooled me, Doc. He licked his lips absentmindedly while I tried to ride his fingers. He ground the heel of his hand against my clit, causing me to whine. I was so close already. My pussy was soaking wet, my chest was flushed, and I was coming undone for Dr. Spencer Reid.

“You look so fucking beautiful, Y/n,” he said, his eyes moving between my face and where his hand was working into me. “I’ll never be able to look at you again and not remember how pretty your pussy is. How wet you get for me.” Spencer leaned forward then, his mouth near my ear as he whispered. “And how your pussy squeezes my fingers every time I say something.” He chuckled at my groan. He knew I was going to cum. “Is that what you like? It’s not just making me beg for you…you just like hearing me, don’t you? Fuck…you’re getting so much tighter.” He bit my earlobe gentle, his left thumb and forefinger squeezing my nipple, his hand working into me faster as I ground my hips against him. “I wonder…y/n,” he breathed again. “I want you to cum for me. Please, please cum for me, Miss.”

That’s what finally broke me, the tension inside my body snapping apart at his whispered plea. My back arched off the couch, my hands were around his arm, my nails digging into his skin. My vision went white as I tried not to scream at how good he made me feel.

I slowly floated back to earth, his fingers working me gently to prolong my orgasm. I’m sure my face was flushed and dazed, but he stared at me like I was…beautiful. Spencer removed his fingers from my over sensitive pussy. I wasn’t prepared for him bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean,

Jesus, he’s dirty was the only thought in my head.

After he withdrew, we both started righting our clothes; he pointed me in the direction of the bathroom so I could clean up. After wiping myself off, I splashed some water on my face, taking in my appearance in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes were too bright, my lips were swollen. I looked happy.

I was terrified.

I made my way into the living room to find Spencer clothed once again. The confident man who had made me cum moments ago was gone, replaced with my nervous boy, fidgeting with his glasses.

No matter how uncomfortable I was, I needed to be there for him after this. I sat beside him while he eyed me cautiously.

I smiled at him, my poor boy. I held out my arms. “Come here, Doc.” He looked confused. I explained, “I know we didn’t technically do any real BDSM stuff, but I think aftercare is still important right now. So, come here.”

Spencer bit his lip and looked…oddly hopeful. After giving it some thought, he scooted over on the couch before laying down so his head would fall into my lap. “Y/n?”

I ran my fingers through his curly hair slowly, trying to soothe him. "Hmm?"

Spencer was quiet; I could see his mind working behind his eyes, looking for something, anything, to say.

He was still thinking about what to say when his eyes closed, and his breathing slowed down.

It was alright, I knew what he wanted to say anyway.

taglist: @pinkdiamond1016​ @rachelxwayne​ @sickeninglyshoujo

series taglist: @abschaffer2​ @liaabsurd​ @brokenanxiety​ @thisiscalmandits-dr​​ @less-intelligent-spencerreid​ @reidsmyhusband-emilyismymistress @cielo1984​ @sarcasticsagittarius1998​ @101donuts​

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[somethinginthethunder]

hello!! could you write a fluffy (with a small amount of angst ofc) scenario with ushijima about how the reader thinks her love for him is unrequited after seeing him hanging out with another girl but he eventually realizes his feelings for her and confesses? 😳

Author’s Note: Ah!! I’m so excited for this! Thank you for requesting, this is actually my first one ever! And I apologize if this didn’t turn out how you wanted. I... also got a little carried away. Whoops...

Again, as always, shares and feedback are appreciated!

Word count: 2,746 (This is longer than usual, I know. I just got really, really into the groove. Please don’t expect all requests to be this long. Thank you!)

Summary: Ushijima has started hanging out with some girl more often. Coming to the conclusion that they liked each other, you end up in your dorm, crying to yourself because of the seemingly unreturned love. 

Warnings: none?? maybe some angst? a whole lot of nothing :’)  and maybe a couple of curse words. MAYBE TENDOU AND USHIJIMA ARE OOC. IF SO, I APOLOGIZE!!!!

---

“Can we help you?” Shirabu asked, pausing in front of the girl standing in the doorway.

The shy young woman perked at his question, her knuckles turning white as she grasped at her bag straps.

“A-Ah! I’m just waiting for Ushijima-san!” she answered, her pale face becoming bright red.

Shirabu tilted his head. “He doesn’t accept fangirls, if that’s what you’re here for,” he stated bluntly, sweat dripping down his forehead as he picked up the stray volleyball.

Embarrassed, the girl bowed down a little. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you! But I actually-”

“Sato.”

Both students turned their head to see the one and only captain of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team jogging toward them.

“Ushijima-san, do you know her?” the setter asked, tucking the ball under his arm as he gestured to the girl.

He nodded, returning his attention to the new arrival.

“I apologize for not getting out on time. Our practice ran longer than we intended. Please wait for a bit while we finish,” he said, staring into her wide eyes.

“O-Of course! I’ll just… uh, wait outside,” she stuttered once again, bowing in acknowledgement before stepping away from the gym, waiting by its doors.

You had seen the whole thing from your place beside the coach. As the manager of the team, you probably shouldn’t have been paying attention for so long, but the situation had made you curious.

Ushijima had a meeting with a girl? It was rare for him to pay any special attention to them. In fact, it was rare for him to pay attention to them at all.

“Oho, does Wakatoshi-kun finally have a girlfriend?” Tendou asked teasingly, leaning over your shoulder as said man came back to the court. His eyes squinted in curiousity as he rested a hand on your shoulder, knowing that he was getting right on your nerves.

“A girlfriend?!” Goshiki half-exclaimed as he came down from a hit, his aim almost hitting Semi’s face (please save him I-).

His exclamation turned the heads of a lot of the rest of the team. You hated it.

Ushijima stopped in front of you and Tendou, shaking his head in response.

“We aren’t together. We simply have a meeting arranged for today,” he answered.

“If you guys are done talking about this little love crap, I’d like to finish up practice here!” the coach added grumpily.

The team hurriedly resumed their exercises, shouting “Yes, coach!” in unison.

When practice was finally over, and everything had been put away, Ushijima bid his goodbyes and returned to the doorway. The young girl, Sato, approached him, to which he allowed. She was still blushy, and seemed even more nervous than before.

After a brief exchange of words, they walked away from the gym and to wherever their destination was. 

You stood on the other side of the gym with most of the team was on the other side.

With a pit in your chest, you stared out of the door where they once stood. Clutching the clipboard in your hands, you let out a sigh. Maybe it was of disappointment, or maybe it was because you didn’t have to see them together anymore.

Whatever if was, it wasn’t good.

“Don’t mind, Y/n-chan!!” Tendou reassured you. “Everyone knows you’re his favorite!” he cheered, patting your back encouragingly.

You honestly couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or actually trying to be helpful.

“I don’t mind!” you objected, turning to face him. “He can hang out with whoever he wants!”

The red-headed guess monster chuckled briefly before saying, “Oh? But I thought you liked him!”

“Could you say that any louder?!” you scolded hastily, hushing him.

He wasn’t wrong, though. You could admit that. Tendou was good at knowing what made you tick, and he also happened to know your crush on the stoic captain. You almost regretted telling him in the first place. But he was one of our closest friends, and that’s what you had decided to tell him.

Your feelings for Ushijima had lasted for a bit over a year. On one hand, it was fine with you since he never really gave any other attention with girls (except for today, of course), but on the other hand, you hated it since you knew it meant he probably would never like you back.

And today only seemed to confirm this fear. Not in the way you had thought it would.

Tendou blinked at your quiet outburst. “Ah, well, we all already know!” he said. “Besides, if he doesn’t have feelings for you, then there’s no way he’d have feelings for her!”

You knew it was supposed to be a compliment, but it still made your heart ache.

“And,” he suddenly said, his voice lower than before. “If he does happen to hurt you, perhaps I’d have to give him a bit of a talking,” he added. His eyes seemed to change, like the threatening look he’d give his opponents in games. Though, it wasn’t necessarily evil.

Surprised, and almost uncomfortable with his intense aura, you said, “N- no need. Even if he did hurt me, I don’t think he’d do so on purpose. I mean- he doesn’t even know about… my feelings.’

“Ahh!” he hummed, his attitude changing once again. Jeez, you could never read this guy completely. “Then maybe he should know!” he suggested, leaning down to meet your height. 

“Tendou, I love you, my friend. I really do, but confessing is the last thing I want to do!” you said, furrowing your brows. 

He paused, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Alright!” he agreed, stepping away from you. “Well, I’ve got to go, now. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/n-chan!”

You sighed once again, just about done with your friend’s antics. Shrugging off your worry, you finished up what you were doing and exited the gym.

☆☆☆

At first, you had thought that maybe Sato was just a fangirl that Ushijima had finally agreed to talk to. But, to you, it didn’t look like that was the case anymore.

For the past few days, you’d see them walking together in the halls, talking for most of the time they were together. Even if you and Ushijima were hanging out with each other, she’d approach (though, very timidly) and give to him what seemed like letter(s).

And, sometimes, he’d even give her some back.

You had even noticed he seemed to be in a lighter mood, as well. Which was a bit unusual. You’d say you didn’t want her to make him feel such a way, but you were honestly glad to see him talk more and be more happy.

You didn’t ask him about what they were to each other. You were afraid it would raise suspicions, and, though you’d never admit it, you didn’t exactly want to know the answer.

So you just came to the conclusion that they were dating, or at the very least had feelings for each other.

Well… it was bound to happen sometime, wasn’t it? There was no way he’d have feelings for you.

The last sliver of hope you had in him reciprocating you feelings slowly went down the drain over that whole week and a half that they hung around each other.

☆☆☆

And now it was a Saturday, with you tucked away in your bed crying gently to yourself as you stared up at the ceiling.

You had promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry over a boy. Why did you have to do this now?

Meanwhile, a certain middleblocker and ace were sat next to each other, talking about nothing in particular.

That was, until Tendou finally popped the question you never could.

“Wakatoshi-kun,” he said, staring out of the window and into the night. “Do you like Sato Runa, by any chance?”

The abrupt change in the subject almost caught his friend off guard.

“She’s an exceptional student,” he answered.

Tendou grinned in amusement. 

“No, no! I mean romantically,” he cleared up, waving his hand in the air.

“Romantically?” he repeated, his eyebrows raising. “No.”

That was all the middleblocker needed. “Ahh, well, you make that hard to believe by just looking at you!” he said. “Well, Y/n-chan will certainly be happy to hear this!”

“Y/n? Why would she want to know?” the dark-haired boy asked, still not catching on.

Tendou’s grin only widened, like the cheshire cat playing with Alice’s mind. 

“Why, she likes you, of course!” he cheered. “Ohh, she’s been so worried you and that girl had gotten together. Imagine our poor little manager, heartbroken over nothing!” he said. 

Ushijima said nothing for a while, still sat straight, his hands in his lap.

“Y/n has feelings for me?” he asked, half curious.

Satori tilted his head, more amused than ever. “I know you aren’t great with romance, but even I’d thought you would’ve at least gotten a little bit of hint!”

Ignoring his little jab, Ushijima continued, “...she’s heartbroken?”

Got him, the spiky-haired boy thought. Oh, it was all going to plan.

“Well, she’d never admit it, but I know she’s at least a little upset about it! Must’ve been a lot of proof in her eyes if she’s as heartbroken as I think she is!” he hummed. 

“How long have you known of her feelings for me?” he asked, his voice never changing. To the average person, it’d seem as though he wasn’t too interested in your feelings. However, Tendou knew better.

“As far as I know, almost a year! If I were you, I’d take her out of her sad trance right away!” he added, clapping his hands together. “But the question is, Wakatoshi… do you like her back?”

There was a long, long silence. It almost put Tendou off, thinking that maybe he’d have to modify his plan.

Luckily, Ushijima had finally decided to make his move.

Standing from his seat on the bed, he excused himself from their dorm room, making his way for the yours.

☆☆☆

“Crap…” you murmured, looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked.... tired.

After letting your hair down, you leaned against the counter, staring at yourself.

How pathetic that he had gotten you so worked up.

Actually, no, how pathetic that you had thought that there was a chance that he liked you back.

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door. You jumped, trying to wipe away your drying tears and drying your hands afterward.

“Ah- one moment!” you called, cursing yourself for your sore throat (you had screamed into your pillow out of frustration prior to your little breakdown).

Opening the door, you were surprised to see the one and only Ushijima standing there.

“Y/n,” he said, immediately making eye contact. It was like he was scrutinizing you under his cold gaze.

“Ushijima-san! It’s late! How did you-” 

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked bluntly, referring to the still evident tear stains on your cheeks.

Coughing, embarrassed, you nodded. “Yeah, just… life stuff, you know?”

“Would any of that supposed ‘life-stuff’ have to do with me?” he questioned.

You tensed up. How did he know?

“How did you…” you started, trailing off. Oh. My. God. Tendo-

“It has been brought to my attention that you may have thought that I was in a relationship with Sato Runa. Is this true?” he inquired boldly. 

Wow, he really did not know how to sugar-coat it, huh?

You pursed your lips, obviously not wanting to admit the reason of your defeat. But you knew you shouldn’t lie to him.

“Yes,” you admitted, your shoulders lowering, and eyes suddenly finding the floor much more interesting. The confession made it too real, now. 

“And it was also brought to my attention that you’ve had feelings for me, and have become upset since you believed I was in a relationship with Sato. Yes?” he also asked.

Your eyes quickly shot back up to him in surprise, your cheeks suddenly hot and your chest suddenly in pain. He knew.

You didn’t want to answer, for obvious reasons. And Ushijima seemed to realize this. His gaze softened, rephrasing his words, “If you do not have feelings for me, tell me right now. Please.”

Ah, you couldn’t. Not to him.

This only confirmed his thoughts.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice still unwavering. “I’d like to clear up that I am not romantically involved with Sato Runa.” Wait. What? “I had asked her to be my tutor for a few of my classes since quite a few tests were coming up for the next two weeks. That is why I’ve been around her often.”

Oh. Oh.

So that’s what it was. The papers weren’t letters, but notes and studying ideas. It wasn’t little dates they were doing, it was study sessions. He was in a lighter mood because of how much easier school was for him, now.

You felt pretty stupid right at that moment.

“A-ah… good to know,” you nodded. “It’s alright. You didn’t have to clarify it with me, but thank you, anyway.”

“But I did,” Ushijima retorts. “Because I happen to be attracted to you, not her.”

I- were you dead right now? Was this a dream? A joke? A prank?

You pinched the inside of your hand to check that this was still real.

“I-” you pressed your lips together hesitantly. “Really?” you asked in disbelief.

He nodded. “I hadn’t realized it, but you are different. Perhaps I have not been attracted to you for a whole year, but in this current time, today, I am. You’re talented. You’ve got potential. Everything about you works together to make you an exceptional person. But even then, there’s more to it that I cannot explain.”

The heat in your cheeks only worsened. Honestly, his words were about to give you a full-on fever.

“I- I don’t know what to say!” you confessed, almost bursting. You were confused more than anything, even though your brain processed the situation just fine. “Just a few minutes ago I was crying over how you’d never like me- and now, and now you confess? I mean- I look like a mess, it’s almost past midnight, and-”

“You don’t look like a mess,” he objected, raising his hand to brush a few stray hairs out of the way. “And if you are unable to figure out what to say next, could I perhaps take this moment to ask you something?”

Blinking up at him, you nodded.

“Tomorrow after practice, would you... want to go on a date with me?” he asked. 

Yeah, okay, you were definitely dreaming, now.

Suddenly, you were tense again, trying to figure out if you heard him right. Where did this Ushijima come from? And what had he done with the real one?

“Y-Yes! Of course I would!” you agreed.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning, Y/n.”

Leaning down to your height, his brushed his lips against your forehead as a farewell, not even giving you a chance to reply before he left. (I mean, it would be a questionable sight for him to be seen at a girl’s dorm so late at night.)

Holy shit. Holy shit! You had a date with Ushijima Wakatoshi! 

Your chest was feeling light clouds, your mind barely even able to wrap itself around the situation. Did that really just happen? Were he and Sato actually just acquaintances? Did he actually like you?

Excited, you sloppily got ready for bed and tucked yourself under the covers, ecstatic for tomorrow (of course, a little embarrassed by the earlier conversation, too). 

When you awoke, it took you a minute to remember what had happened the night before. Again, you tried convincing yourself that it was all just apart of your imagination, but that idea was quickly disproven when you checked your texts.

Ushijima Wakatoshi - Sunday, 6:30 a.m.

Do you have anywhere you’d like to go for today?

Tendou Satori - Sunday, 7:36 a.m.

don’t be mad, but I told him! and I have a suspicion that yesterday went great (not really, wakatoshi-kun told me this morning)! sooo… when’s the wedding, love birds?!

Sunday, 7:59 a.m.

are you not up yet? ah, y/nnnn-chann i’m getting impatient!! call me when you see this!

Smiling to yourself, you turned off your phone and rested it on your chest, shutting your eyes for a moment before getting ready.

Today was going to be a good day.

----

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[unstoppableforcce]

dark side

CHAPTER FIVE: accuse

pairing: Javier Peña x reader (narcos)

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a/n: the end scene of this one was what I had such a hard time writing, it went through a few different interations and thats why it took so long so sorry for the wait !! please let me know what you feel or you think is going on!

5 in the morning was too early for a drink but he wanted one.

He settled for a shower instead.

But no matter how long he stood under the rushing water, he couldn’t make any sense of it.

“Do you know the CIA is listening or do you just think—”

“We know.”

Fiestl’s answer was too quick, too confident. They had something, real proof of their accusations and they couldn’t tell him any of it, not until he was face to face with them in Cali. And until he could get on that plane, until he could get his boots on the ground and get the information first hand, this guilt settling in his chest wasn’t going to go away.

The bloodied phantom hand was right on top of his as he washed through his hair, rougher than it was a few hours ago when it held you against his chest.

Maybe you didn’t know about the wiretaps.

The CIA practically kicked you to the curb when they assigned you to spy on him. It was a base-level assignment and you were too smart for it, far too smart for it. The human and weapons trafficking, the guy you mentioned, that was what your focus was on, you made that clear and he trusted you when you said it.

Maybe you didn’t know. Maybe Stechner was purposefully keeping you out of this, maybe he thought the two of you were together, maybe you didn’t know about whatever the CIA was doing.

Or maybe you did.

He hit the shower wall, not with the full force his arm could muster but just enough for a pretty decent thud before reaching up to rub over his face again.

Was he wrong to trust you? Was this whole ‘we don’t talk about work’ thing something you used to keep this from him?

Did you even think you owed him honesty in this respect? The two of you were sleeping together, maybe it was more than sleeping together, but it wasn’t a real relationship, or at least, he could tell himself that. Maybe you were telling yourself the same. Maybe that was how you were keeping it from him…

But he trusted you. He trusted you now.

“You’re not coming back to bed?”

He was so caught up with himself, he didn’t even hear you walk your way into the bathroom. But now that he had, you were all he could hear.

He could hear your toothbrush clank against his in the cup as your pulled it out, he could hear his medicine cabinet open with practiced precision, he could hear you sitting back against the sink as you brushed. He swore he could even hear your head turn back to the shower when he didn’t give you an answer.

“I’ve got to fly to Cali.” He sighed, brushing his hair back again, finally washing the rest of the shampoo out of his hair and stepping back to let the water hit his chest.

You spit into the sink before turning back to him, “It’s early.”

“I know.”

A few more seconds passed in silence, and he just waited for you to say something.

The curtain to the shower pulled back and you stepped in behind him, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your face into his back as you held him.

This was real. What he felt for you was real.

That’s all he could focus on for now.

“How bad is it?” You hummed against his skin, pressing a kiss to his spine, your body pressing up behind his.

“I don’t know yet, that’s why I have to go.”

You left another kiss, hot against his skin. “Is there anything I can do?”

He trusted you. If you were using him, it wouldn’t feel like this. Or maybe it would, maybe he was just being naïve to it all.

Turning around in your grip, he placed both his hands around your face and pulled your lips up to his. Yours eagerly met him there, your hands holding him at his sides as he back you up to the wall. The phantom hand was gone if he buried it into your hair and that had to be enough for now.

You tasted like the mint of his toothpaste...

You wrapped an arm around the back of his neck as he hoisted you up around his hips, his hot breath landing on your neck as you pulled away and laid your head back against the tile. But as he moved to lay kisses along your skin, you stopped him, holding him still with your hand at the back of his neck.

“What?” He panted out against your cheek as you brought your head back forward.

“Whatever is happening in Cali… You have to be back by tomorrow night you know…” Your breath was just as ragged as you locked your eyes back with his. “The Ambassador’s thing?”

His head fell forward onto your shoulder, “Fuck.”

“Oh, someone forgot?” You taunted as he drew his lips back to yours, but in leaning your head back, you left his lips your chin instead as you kept talking. “It’s okay, just tell the Ambassador you can’t make it, I’ll wear my pretty dress for you another day…”

The Ambassador did these things every so often, parties with drinks and diplomats, something about securing relationships with the government and such. It meant drinking and socializing, playing nice and dressing up. And as DEA attaché, he had to be there.

He was so stupid, he had actually been looking forward to it. To having an excuse to being around you, playing nice and drinking.

But he had to be in Cali first. He had to figure out this CIA shit…

He kissed your cheek, “I can be back by then.”

“What’s going on in Cali?” You asked, grabbing his chin to level his eyes with yours again.

But he just shook his head, shaking it out of your grip gently, “I’m sorry, querida, you know I can’t…”

“It’s nothing I can help with?” Rubbing your hand over his shoulders, filled to the brim with tension and none of it releasing as you held him close.

“No.”

You let your lips land on his again, deeper this time, pulling him in closer as he kept you pressed against the wall.

“It’s a nice dress, so you better be back in time…” You hummed with a chuckle as his lips moved to your neck.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

He took the first flight to Cali.

And that was when his agents put the cold, hard proof in his hands and his stomach sank even further than before. There was no shower, no drinks, no nothing that could get him out of this.

It wasn’t just the one phantom hand, there were two of them, holding over his hands as he read through the files again and again, looking for some other explanation, some way out of this that didn’t implicate you. But he read them again and again…

They were CIA files.

Stacks of CIA files. Transcripts of private phone conversations, records of Stechner ordering the wiretapping on embassy phones and their personal home numbers, documents and… there were at least a hundred pages here.

“73.” Van Ness muttered, “It’s 73 pages.”

“Where the hell did the two of you get 73 pages of classified CIA documents?” He couldn’t even believe the words as they came out of his mouth, he couldn’t believe the papers he was reading, he couldn’t believe any of it and he knew why.

The two of them sat on the couch across from him didn’t, but he knew why.

“They were faxed to us…” Fiestl answered..

“By who?”

“It’s whom…” Fiestl corrected but bit his tongue when Javier shot him the meanest look he could muster, “We don’t know.”

Javi blew out a breath, a heavy breath before dropping the papers in his hand to the coffee table between them, “So, the two of you are in the possession of 73 pages of stolen, classified CIA documents and you don’t know who sent them?”

“They’re files which prove the CIA has been illegally tapping our phones, embassy phones—”

He scoffed, moving for a cigarette, “Which were sent to you illegally—"

“I think we should be more focused on what the CIA is doing, Peña,”

They couldn’t exactly see into his head, but that was exactly what he was focused on.

These records had everything, every phone conversation they overheard, even Fiestl’s conversations with his kid… But none from his home phone line. None from the phone he used to call you and that didn’t seem like a coincidence.

Was it because you knew about the wiretaps and had his home phone excluded so you wouldn’t get caught? Was it because you sent the files to his agents and wanted to keep your private phone records out of it once you found out? Or was he jumping to conclusion? Did you not know at all?

“What do we do?” Van Ness postured, breaking him out of his thoughts as he brought the cigarette back to his lips.

“We need to figure out why the two of you were sent these, who sent them…”

“No, what do we do about the CIA?” Van Ness reiterated but Javi just shook his head.

“Well, we stop using our phones, but we don’t know why these were sent to us… we don’t know what the person who sent these wants from us. Maybe they’re looking to catch the two of you with stolen files, or trying to bring down the CIA…” He inhaled another breath of smoke, “We can’t play into their hand.”

“What about that the agent in your office, would she…?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head, “I don’t know what anyone would do at this point…”

—

They reviewed the files about a thousand more times, looking for any clue as to who would send them the files or why would they send them the files… But nothing came up. Eventually, he had to head back to Bogota and get ready for the Ambassador’s party.

“You call me on the sat phones only.” He reiterated as he left with a promise to do more investigating on his own back at the embassy. And once he got off the plane, he went back to his apartment, got ready and headed towards the hell that would be the Ambassador’s party.

Because you were going to be there. And he was going to have to talk to you.

He was going to have to ask you some of the questions that were burning in his mind.

Did you know? Did you send the files? Did he trust you?

It would have all been easier if you weren’t wearing that goddamn dress.

Perched on the Ambassador’s desk, your legs crossed at the ankle , one heel over the other, and a drink in your hand, the dress only fell second to the plastered smile on your face as you entertained the officials around you. It was just a black cocktail dress, but it fit you perfectly, it made you a goddamn beauty right there in the middle of the room, catching his attention and taking his breath away immediately.

How the hell was he supposed to ask you if you either knew about the CIA’s illegal wiretapping or if you illegally smuggled documents to his agents…

“Agent Peña, I’m glad you made it.” The Ambassador quickly intercepted him before he could make his way to you though. “How was Cali?”

“It was fine, sir.”

“Get yourself a drink, socialize will you? People love to meet a hero.” He shook his shoulder slightly to shake the message through just in case it wasn’t clear why he was invited. He couldn’t help but laugh at it even as he walked further into the party.

He was there to be the hero, surely you were there to be smart and look good, just like Stechner used the two of out in the jungle. And while he was planning to head straight to the drink table, you seemed to be playing your role expertly, your legs and collar bones on display while you spoke animatedly to the officials around you.

That was, until you caught sight of him across the room, quickly finished your drink and excused yourself for another, making it to the drink table as he did.

“Welcome back, Agent Pena.” You cooed almost tauntingly as you sidled up to him at the table, a smirk painting your lips, one he wished he could mirror.

He wished he could play this game with you, he loved playing this game with you… It was getting you coffee and dropping it at your desk like it was nothing, it was following you into the file room to steal a few kisses, it was being fully immersed in an office romance and calling it anything but while trying to be casual.

But he didn’t have the heart for it as Fiestl’s words and the taunting lines of the files he just spent the past hours reading over and over again flowed through his head, taking over every thought.

He wanted to trust you, but he couldn’t do it blindly. He needed to talk to you, and if that risked everything… he needed to. He couldn’t have this with you without answers. He needed to know he could trust you.

“Is everything okay?” Your smirk fell away as he froze in thought, but even as he recovered and began making his drink with a nod, you certainly didn’t seem to believe him. You nudged him again, as best you could while staying casual around so many prying eyes before whispering, “Javi…”

“I need to talk to you.”

Those were some of the words he hated hearing in a relationship, he couldn’t even believe he was the one saying them. But you didn’t flinch from them as he always would. You just nodded and continued fixing your own drink.

“Okay, we can slip away—”

“Aw, look at my two favorite agents.” Because why would the two of you be able to escape Stechner for just two fucking seconds— “Is this for me?”

The balding CIA station chief wrapped his arm around your waist possessively as he reached for the fresh drink in your hand and Javi couldn’t help the sickness that rose in his stomach, he couldn’t even quench it by taking a hefty sip of his own drink.

“Agent Peña, do you mind if I steal my agent for a minute.”

He hated that he even asked, this man only spoke in condescension, it was disgusting. Like you were just a tool at his disposal, a weapon to keep strapped to his hip to use as he pleased. Javi hated it. It wasn’t even about the CIA wiretaps, it was just about you now.

“Why don’t you ask her?” He scoffed into his glass but Stechner just laughed.

“Well if I asked her, she’d have to say yes, she works for me…” He chuckled, turning his face to whisper something into your ear and you nodded. “Excuse us.”

You gave him a nod carefully, assuring him everything was okay as you were pulled away and he gave you one back. He’d just have to catch you when you came back.

That was if you came back.

He tooled around for at least an hour, talking to diplomats and soldiers he was hoping to avoid all together. He played nice though, while he waited. He sipped on his drink and smiled, he told brief Escobar stories and even laughed when he felt the Ambassador’s eyes on him, just waiting for you to come back.

And checking his watch as you walked back in, he knew you had been gone for an hour and a half before you stalked directly for him and excused him from his conversation.

“Let’s go home.”

He didn’t even have time to let his heart flutter around the idea of you calling going back to his apartment going home. You left his side and began saying your goodbyes before slipping out on his own, and left him no choice but to do the same a few minutes later, shaking the Ambassador’s hand and meeting you by his car.

That sly smirk you had at the drink cart was gone. Your whole natural disposition when the two of you were alone together was gone.

Whatever Stechner had said had set you off in some way, so the last thing he wanted to do was spark this for you before you were in private, before he had you back at home. But the second he got you back, opening the door to the apartment and letting you in first as he always did, you moved straight for his liquor cabinet.

“Querida, what did—”

“You said you needed to talk to me about something?” You didn’t let his question even finish, you just asked yours back and filled up a glass with more than a couple of fingers of whiskey before downing a heavy sip.

Now he wasn’t so sure if he did.

“Is it about what happened in Cali?’ You hummed the question the downed another sip, finally turning back to him and beginning to strip your heels off.

“Yeah, it is…”

“So?”

He took a step forward and inhaled a deep breath, with your eyes on him like this, he couldn’t hold off anymore. He needed to know he could trust you, he had to ask…

“My Cali team was faxed 73 classified CIA documents…” He shifted his gaze to his feet, he just couldn’t look at you and that dress, not if he wanted to get out all the points he needed to. “We don’t know who sent them, but they show the CIA has been illegally wiretapping the DEA embassy and personal phones…”

He watched you down the rest of your glass with a throw of your head back then place the glass back on the table. But you didn’t say anything, not right away, not until he moved to ask the question, enough time passing for you to finally process his words.

“What the hell are you accusing me of, Javi…”

“I’m not—”

Your scoff cut him off, bringing his stare back to your body as you turned to lean over the drink cart. “You’re telling me this morning in the shower, ‘we don’t talk about work’, but now we are, and you think you’re not accusing me of something? Why the hell else would you bring this up?”

“Because I need to ask what you know—”

“Oh, fuck you Javier.”

He had never heard your voice take that tone, not with him. He had heard it on the phone a few times but never directed to him, it wasn’t a sound he ever wanted to hear again. And as his face fell, his hand gripping the edge of his kitchen counter tight enough to nearly make his hand numb, he watched you take another step closer to him, the drinks left behind.

“Go ahead, ask me, see if you can do it without accusing me of either illegally spying on you or illegally faxing files to your agents, betraying my agency.” You fought, folding your hands over your chest almost defensively as he brought his hands to settle on his hips, chin raising to the challenge.

“Betraying your agency?” He scoffed, regretting it as it flowed from his lips, but he was too deep into I now. “You mean betraying the condescending man who treats you like a piece of meat that he owns, who undermines your ability and your assignments—”

“Yeah, he’s the condescending one…” you met his scoff with one of your own.

He tried to tell himself that it was the drinks that were fueling you and your smart mouth but that didn’t little to ease the slowly boiling heat in his chest.

“You think I am?” He fought defensively, his mustache twitching as his lips formed around the words.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Javier.” You shook your head, the exasperated words falling from your lips before you cared to stop them,“god, you’re accusing me of betraying my agency for what? For you? For this?”

For this? What even was this? He knew how he felt about you and he thought he knew how you felt about him but he was too blind in the moment to care about any of it. The heat in his vision paled in comparison to the heat of your body pressed against his, yet he kept shouting, hoping he’d feel less cold.

“It’s either that or you’ve been helping the CIA spy on my agents—”

Your chuckle was drenched in the same tone, “Which is a crime, you’re accusing me of a crime.”

“You work for the CIA and I’m not, I’m just asking because I don’t know—”

The hit at your agency might have been a low blow but was he wrong?

“And you have no proof—”

“I do have proof. Of the CIA, of you…” He took another step forward as your face twisted into confusion. “Of all the files sent over, Fiestl’s call with his kid, Van Ness and his mother… my phone calls weren’t there and I only ever call the office or you…”

You took an extra second to process that accusation, not a long one, but just one long enough to let you both catch your breath, to stop the interruptions and shouting.

Just long enough until you could only produce one word.

“Wow.”

Somehow that one hurt most of all.

His whole tone shifted, but yours merely hardened, “Querida, I don’t want to—”

“No, clearly you have it all figured out. 73 documents and it’s what you don’t have which caught me so clearly red-handed—” You couldn’t force more sarcasm into your tone if you tried but he wasn’t laying down just yet.

“I wanted to offer you a chance to tell me otherwise, I wanted to hear your side of the story—”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you! God, I’m so stupid.” You brushed your hair back and scoffed, holding your hands atop your head. “When you trust someone, you don’t accuse them of crimes against their country, Javier. And clearly I was stupid to trust you—”

“I do trust you, but if you had what I had, you’d be asking me the same thing—”

“No, Javier, I wouldn’t. Because I’m the idiot who wore this dress for you.”

You could’ve worn any dress in your closet, hell, you could’ve gotten away with the pant suit you wore to work. But you knew he’d like this one, you wanted him to like you in this one...

“Querida—”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“The CIA is spying on my agency, I have proof of that, and I’m sleeping with a CIA agent. I have a responsibility to my agency to figure out what they know, what they’re using it for, and to exhaust every possible avenue to figure that out—”

He sounded like the DEA handbook and he didn’t like it, but the words just fell out, or more so, we’re pushed out by the heat still bubbling over in his chest.

“Oh boo hoo, Javi. You’re under stress? This is fucking Colombia.” You scoffed, reaching down for your heels and purse, “Stechner pulled me aside tonight to tell me he’s diverting funds from my human trafficking tracking program to focus on Cali and your stupid fucking drugs, and the man I’m just ‘sleeping with’ just accused me of a couple of crimes. But yeah, clearly you’re under stress, that makes this okay.”

“I didn’t accuse you of—” He thought about lifting his hand in a show of surrender but the anger within him wouldn’t even allow it, even if the alternative was to watch you walk away.

“I’m such an idiot…” You blew past him, knocking shoulders with him but he turned around quickly to grab your wrist, only to have you rip it away, “Goodnight, Javier.”

His hand held out where it last touched yours, embodied by the haunting grip now. It wasn’t foreign, it was him, and it just pushed the woman he loved right out the door.

As the door slammed shut behind you and he walked straight to the drink table and picked your empty glass up. He filled it once, downed it, filled it again, downed it, then took the empty glass and threw it as hard as he could into the wall, shattering the glass around his apartment.

“Fuck.”

It wasn’t the stress. He did it. He could call it stress or the drinking or the fact that he’s never felt as alone as he did when his agents showed him files which implicated you... he didn’t want to believe it but it made sense. All signs pointed to you.

Except one. His gut.

His gut which screamed you wouldn’t, that he trusted you and you wouldn’t do either of the things he accused you of.

You wouldn’t betray your agency and you would have warned him if you knew about the wiretaps. He knew that, he trusted you.

What the fuck did he just do...

—

tags:

@the-feckless-wonder @arrowswithwifi @ms-dont-care @leo-moon @tiffdawg @readsalot73 @way-too-addicted-to-anime @keeper0fthestars @adikaofmandalore @opheliaelysia @magneticbucky @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @larakasser @littlevodika @mandoren @mistermiraclee (open)

[shra-vasti]

YOON JEONGHAN

Series : To all the boys

Pairing : Yoon Jeonghan x reader

Type : non idol au, ex-lovers au

Genre : angst, drama, fluff, romance

Warnings : body shaming, sexism, anti-feminism, degradation of oneself, self hatred, poor mental health, depression and anxiety.

Word count : 1.5k

Synopsis : You decided to write some letters to every boy who was a part of your past as your last message after getting diagnosed with chronical disease.

MAIN MASTERLIST

[Received, 15.10.2020] | one | previous | next

"Is it paining too much? The pain will remain for brief time but it will numb away as the time pass."

Your mom's words just induced the slipping of your tears from your eyes as you nodded your head at her unable to utter a single word, there was a lump in your throat and you were afraid you would break if you open your mouth.

You were currently inside the private room of the hospital, an IV drop attached to your hand, which was the source of the tears in your as as per your mom.

The nurse call out your mom to bring the medicine from the medical store and you were left alone with your thoughts as your mother kissed your forehead and promised you she will be back.

[You] I saw your message with Jihyun, you were cheating on me after all this time? You used me for your physical needs just so you don't hurt her? Is that what I am to you? Your playdate?

[Jeonghan] idk what you're talking about.

[You] I have proof Jeonghan, don't lie to me.

[Jeonghan] there you go again doubting me, we just talk as friends, why are you being so possessive?

[You] you're calling me possessive when it's you who have all of my ids passwords, the one who deleted and blocked all of my male friends from my phone?

[Jeonghan] you never asked so I never gave.

[You] give me your ids and password then.

[Jeonghan] I'll give you tomorrow

[You] why not now? So you could delete all of your chats with your lovely Jihyun?

[Jeonghan] Don't drag her into this.

[You] oh but you drag me into your fights.

[You] I saw it with my own eyes Jeonghan, I'm not stupid to believe you when you say I was hallucinating, that's the stupidest excuse you could give.

[You] I can't do this anymore, you treat me like shit ever since she returned back from her overseas course, you have been avoiding me since then only contacting when you needed me physically, you're always on that damn phone even when you are with me, you yelled at me and almost slapped me when I said I'll contact her to know the truth.

[Jeonghan] what's the conclusion y/n I'm busy and you're giving me a headache.

[You] I'm giving you a headache? Then fine, I won't anymore. Don't contact me after this and be happy with her, I'm breaking up with you it's over between us.

[Jeonghan] do whatever you want to do, I know you'll crawl back to me cause you can't be without me and but don't think I'll forgive you for your arrogancy.

[You] you've got to be kidding me.

[You] you aren't even feeling ashamed, I should have been more careful but I was so stupid to trust you blindingly.

[You] you don't even accept me as a girlfriend when she and her friends are around.

[You] so stupid of me.

[Jeonghan] I told you to change but you didn't, that's the main problem.

[You] what change? How can you ask me to change myself?

[Jeonghan] I told you to become more modern, learn cooking skills and become more pretty so I could brag about you to my friends but you never listen to me that's the reason our relationship is breaking.

[You] I- don't contact me after this I'm blocking you.

[Jeonghan] you'll regret this and I won't take you back.

Blocked

You shut down your phone after reading the chat once again feeling the dread creeping up inside your chest once again as you let out a soft sob.

Your relationship was like a perfect fairytale bliss at the start, that was before his first girlfriend came back into yours and his life.

She knew about you being with him but still kept contact him, calling him at night and talking till the sunrise and you hated you didn't know about this while you slept dreaming of yours and his future.

His words and promises started to waver since the time she came and suddenly after her arrival his 'we will be together forever' turned into 'my family won't like me dating you so brace yourself', you knew they were all excuses and you hated how you could sense something was off right away.

He told her about you, showed her your pics and he confessed that she laughed at you, saying if he wanted to make her jealous he could have choose a better option, it was the slight push for your once firm relationship to wither down the cliff.

He video called you that night, anger lace upon his face as he told you he met her and what conversation he had, you believe Jihyun to be a sweet girl before you knew her as Jeonghan's ex girlfriend but boy you were never this wrong when he told you she made fun of your looks like that.

You were aware you weren't that pretty but never in your life you ever considered yourself to have any flaw, your friends and parents and classmates never pointed your flaws at you and you grew up embracing him till now.

Everything went down hill after that, he never allowed you to go outside with your friends, always asked you to dress moderately showing zero skin if possible, always asked for 'proofs' when you said you were out with your parents, didn't allow you to talk much with anyone but him.

He said he was doing all of that to make you a better person, to make you more beautiful so he could show Jihyun that he still got a upper hand on her. He didn't realize but he was killing you more and more as the days went by, it didn't help at all when you learned about him meeting up with her behind your back.

He ordered you around, you lost contact with Zeny, Andie, Dani, Jieun and Jane since you never spend time with them, you started going into depression and getting anxiety attacks so your hospital visits became a weekly thing.

He always called you to meet only to fuck you and go, didn't even bother to ask how you have been.

He became like your boss and you his slave and you hated it cause he knew what freedom meant to you. Seokmin was worried about you but he was bounded by his own girlfriend that he didn't dare to say anything.

You finally had enough when you saw him making out with her with your own eyes, the only mistake you did was not approach him then and he kept on calling you out for hallucinating so you broke ties with him.

You were going to let him make you hate yourself more, you needed to love yourself, you didn't needed him.

You were better off without him.

[michaelbogild]

Quotes by Benjamin Franklin

A false friend and a shadow attend only while the sun shines.

A friend in need is a friend indeed!

A learned blockhead is a greater blockhead than an ignorant one.

A man of words and not of deeds, Is like a garden full of weeds

A man wrapped up in himself makes a very small bundle.

A Penny Saved is a Penny Earned

A place for everything, everything in its place.

A slip of the foot you may soon recover, but a slip of the tongue you may never get over.

Absence sharpens love, presence strengthens it.

After the signing of the Constitution, Benjamin Franklin was asked by a woman on the street, What have you given us, sir? Franklin Responded, A Republic, if you can keep it.

All mankind is divided into three classes: those that are immovable, those that are movable, and those that move.

All the little money that ever came into my hands was ever laid out in books.

An investment in knowledge always pays the best interest.

An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

Be at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let every new year find you a better man.

Be civil to all; sociable to many; familiar with few; friend to one; enemy to none.

Be studious in your profession, and you will be learned. Be industrious and frugal, and you will be rich. Be sober and temperate, and you will be healthy. Be in general virtuous, and you will be happy. At least you will, by such conduct, stand the be.

Being ignorant is not so much a shame, as being unwilling to learn.

Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship.

but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.

But on the whole, though I never arrived at the perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but fell far short of it, yet I was, by the endeavour, a better and happier man than I otherwise should have been had I not attempted it; as those who aim at perfect writing by imitating the engraved copies, their hand is mended by the endevour, and is tolerable while it continues fair and legible"

By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.

Chess teaches foresight, by having to plan ahead; vigilance, by having to keep watch over the whole chess board; caution, by having to restrain ourselves from making hasty moves; and finally, we learn from chess the greatest maxim in life - that even when everything seems to be going badly for us we should not lose heart, but always hoping for a change for the better, steadfastly continue searching for the solutions to our problems.

Clean your Finger, before you point at my Spots.

Content makes poor men rich; discontent makes rich men poor.

Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that's the stuff life is made of.

Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.

Eat to live, don't live to eat.

Educate your children to self-control, to the habit of holding passion and prejudice and evil tendencies subject to an upright and reasoning will, and you have done much to abolish misery from their future and crimes from society.

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.

Energy and persistence conquer all things.

Fools make feasts and wise men eat them.

For every minute spent in organizing, an hour is earned.

Genius is nothing but a greater aptitude for patience.

Genius without education is like silver in the mine.

God helps them that help themselves.

Great beauty, great strength, and great riches are really and truly of no great use; a right heart exceeds all

Happiness consists more in the small conveniences of pleasures that occur every day, than in great pieces of good fortune that happen but seldom to a man in the course of his life.

Happiness depends more on the inward disposition of mind than on outward circumstances.

Haste makes waste.

He that can have patience can have what he will.

He that falls in love with himself will have no rivals.

He that lieth down with Dogs, shall rise up with Fleas.

He that lives upon hope will die fasting.

He’s a Fool that cannot conceal his Wisdom

How few there are who have courage enough to own their faults, or resolution enough to mend them.

If a man could have half of his wishes, he would double his troubles.

If Jack's in love, he's no judge of Jill's beauty.

If Passion drives, let Reason hold the Reins.

If you would be loved, love, and be loveable.

In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions so hard to subdue as pride. Disguise it, struggle with it, beat it down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive, and will every now and then peep out and show itself; you will see it, perhaps, often in this history; for, even if I could conceive that I had compleatly overcome it, I should probably be proud of my humility.

It is the first responsibility of every citizen to question authority.

It takes many good deeds to build a good reputation, and only one bad one to lose it.

Life biggest tragedy is that we get old too soon and wise too late

Little strokes fell great oaks.

Lost Time is never found again.

Love your Enemies, for they tell you your Faults.

Make yourself sheep and the wolves will eat you.

Many a man thinks he is buying pleasure, when he is really selling himself to it.

Many people die at twenty five and aren't buried until they are seventy five.

Money has never made man happy, nor will it; There is nothing in its nature to produce happiness. The more of it one has, the more one wants.

Motivation is when your dreams put on work clothes

My refusing to eat flesh occasioned an inconveniency, and I was frequently chided for my singularity, but, with this lighter repast, I made the greater progress, for greater clearness of head and quicker comprehension. Flesh eating is unprovoked murder.

Never confuse Motion with Action.

Never leave till tomorrow that which you can do today.

No one cares what you know until they know that you care!

O powerful goodness! Bountiful Father! Merciful Guide! Increase in me that wisdom which discovers my truest interest. Strengthen my resolution to perform what that wisdom dictates. Accept my kind offices to thy other children as the only return in my power for thy continual favours to me.

One today is worth two tomorrows

Originality is the art of concealing your sources.

Reading makes a full man, meditation a profound man, discourse a clear man.

Savages we call them, because their manners differ from ours, which we think the perfection of civility; they think the same of theirs. "

Search others for their virtues, thyself for thy vices.

Serving God is doing good to man, but praying is thought an easier service and therefore more generally chosen.

Speak little, do much.

Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.

The doorstep to the temple of wisdom is a knowledge of our own ignorance.

The only thing that is more expensive than education is ignorance.

The people heard it, and approved the doctrine, and immediately practiced the contrary.

The person who deserves most pity is a lonesome one on a rainy day who doesn't know how to read.

The Proud hate Pride – in others.

The way to see by faith is to shut the eye of reason.

There are three things extremely hard: steel, a diamond, and to know one's self.

there will be sleeping enough in the grave....

They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.

Thinking aloud is a habit which is responsible for most of mankind's misery.

Those things that hurt, instruct.

Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.

Tis a great confidence in a friend to tell him your faults; greater to tell him his.

Tis easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all that follow it.

To all apparent beauties blind, each blemish strikes an envious mind.

To cease to think creatively is to cease to live

To find out a girl's faults, praise her to her girlfriends.

To lengthen thy life, lessen thy meals.

To succeed, jump as quickly at opportunities as you do at conclusions.

Tricks and treachery are the practice of fools that don't have brains enough to be honest.

Trouble knocked at the door, but, hearing laughter, hurried away

We are all born ignorant, but one must work hard to remain stupid.

We do not stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing!

Well done is better than well said.

What you would seem to be, be really.

Whatever is begun in anger, ends in shame.

When the well is dry, we know the worth of water.

When you are finished changing, you're finished.

Who is wise? He that learns from everyone. Who is powerful? He that governs his passions. Who is rich? He that is content. Who is that? Nobody.

Whoever would overthrow the liberty of a nation must begin by subduing the freeness of speech.

wine [is] a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy.

Wise men don't need advice. Fools won't take it.

Wise Men learn by other's harms; Fools by their own.

Without Freedom of thought there can be no such thing as wisdom;and no such thing as public liberty, without freedom of speech.

Women are books, and men the readers be

Write to Please Yourself. When You write to Please Others You end up Pleasing No one.

You may delay, but time will not.

Your net worth to the world is usually determined by what remains after your bad habits are subtracted from your good ones

[lovedsammy]

anchor; sam/cas

Coda to 15.05. Based on the speculation about there being two pillows on Sam’s bed and Sam and Cas having shared the bed in the past, with Cas comforting Sam through his nightmares. With Castiel away from the bunker, Sam’s blood-forged nightmares bring him to his knees. He needs the angel with him now more than ever, and he’s determined to get him to come back home. Hurt/comfort + angst. Mentions of trauma, Becky, Chuck/God. 

Read HERE on Ao3. 

--

Sammy, please.

Please.

A loud, resounding crack, and Sam’s eyes snap open. Instantly, he’s folded over the side of the bed, his head swimming, breaths coming in harsh, wet pants. His neck and back are drenched in a cold sweat that clings to him much in the way that the horrific images remain behind his eyes. 

The first nightmare again: facing off with Dean, his brother pleading with him to stop, Sam’s body absolutely thrumming from the power coursing through his veins, feeling the soar of it, snapping Dean’s neck…. 

And the worst of all --- tasting the metallic tang of the demon blood on his tongue like it was meant to be there.

Even awake.

Sam heaves, and nothing but bile comes up, but he still feels endlessly nauseous. It’s becoming a part of the territory lately. He’s still half-asleep and a little out of it - the cold medicine he took last night worked a little too well - and he finds himself in the middle of calling out Cas’s name. It’s a thing of habit. He rolls over, almost expecting to find the angel’s concerned face staring back at him. But Castiel isn’t here. The empty space next to Sam is proof of that. Castiel left, and Sam… well, he was a grown man. He shouldn’t need, or depend on someone else to keep him steady when he felt like he was falling. He needs to be his own crutch, because this…. this is his problem, and not one he should be including anyone else in. Most of all, Cas, his friend, who was suffering himself over the loss of the boy that they both viewed as a son. 

Which was probably why he wasn’t here now. 

It was hard for Sam too, so used to the sound of Jack’s laughter echoing off the bunker walls, and now there was only hollow silence. For Cas, who had loved Jack so fiercely and unconditionally… the anguish must be indescribable. 

And yet, Sam still aches for Cas’s presence. The angel had involved himself in Sam’s troubled cycles of sleep, and had for quite some time, ever since he had started to take up residence in the younger Winchester’s room. Sometimes, Sam would get so tired that he’d curl up on his bed with Cas still beside him as they made their way through another TV show or docuseries, and he’d be out in seconds. He’d come to some time later, thrashing, trembling, and Cas would be there to console him, run his fingers through Sam’s hair, and calm him down. Having Cas in his room had become a safeguard for Sam. He hadn’t realized how much he’d depended on Cas to keep the nightmares at bay until he wasn’t there. 

Castiel was more aware than Dean even at this point of the severity of Sam’s dreams. Sam would tell Cas things, usually without meaning to, that he’d never breathe a word of to Dean. It wasn’t because he distrusted his brother - it was more just that Cas was there and had an understanding of the inner workings of Sam’s mind in ways that no one else really did.  

A lot of the time that Sam and Cas had actually spent rooming together came as a result of the loss of Dean to Michael. In those months spent searching for his brother, Sam had started to really let himself go, both physically and mentally. He was exhausted, barely ate, and hardly ever slept. He was always out and about, following some lead or another, or helping another new hunter on a case. Or setting up more services for the Hunter Network. Or something else altogether. So Cas had become Sam’s rock, along with becoming Jack’s. 

The first few times that Sam had allowed Cas into his room again, it was mostly just out of loneliness. He’d needed someone beside him, and Cas was good company. They enjoyed watching Netflix together, and Sam knew that his room had ironically become something of a sanctuary for the angel, too, for whatever reason. But the many, many times after that…. it became something more. 

Sam genuinely enjoyed the feeling of waking up to see Castiel beside him every morning. The residents of the bunker all knew what was happening, but fortunately, no one said anything about it. Mary had made sure of that. She seemed to be under the same impression as the rest of the hunters, though, because once when Sam came out of his room with bedhead and Castiel in tow looking just as rustled, her eyebrows had shot up to her hairline. While Cas had gone to check on Jack, she’d looked at Sam pointedly. 

“So…. how long has this been going on? You and Castiel?”

“M-Mom,” He’d stuttered, flushed, choking around a mouth full of toast. “It isn’t what you’re thinking, I swear. We're just… he helps. I can’t - I don’t really sleep much at night, and he, uh… we watch things, and it helps me. Really, we’re just hanging out.” 

Seeing her son’s red face, Mary just laughs, and leans over to kiss his cheek. “Oh, Sam. You don’t need to be embarrassed. I’m not implying anything, okay? I’m just happy for you. I don’t care what’s going on between the two of you. If he helps you, he helps. He’s an angel, and your friend. I don’t trust anyone else besides Dean with you. Even if it does happen to become something else, you wouldn’t need to explain yourself to me.”

Sam had smiled back at her, nodded, and they’d left it at that. And while it was true that he’d been harboring some unspoken -- likely unrequited -- feelings about Cas for the longest time now, he’d never acted on them. And if Cas felt the same way, well, he hadn’t either.

Confident now that he was done expelling the contents of his stomach lining, Sam shakily exhales, sweeping his fringe back from his face and tries to relax his frantic heart. Once he’s sure he can stand, he gets a glass of water from his sink to wash out the taste of acid and blood in his mouth, and more importantly, clean up the mess before Dean comes in at some point and starts asking questions. 

The sound of his phone vibrating startles him out of the haze. It’s a new text, and he’s shocked to see that it’s from Cas.

Deep breaths, Sam. It says. Remember to even them. Do them in sets. I’m sorry that I’m not there to help you right now.

Sam just stares at the message, a little stunned. He’s spent days trying to get in touch with Cas, only for him to ignore his messages completely. 176 total messages sent, over 20 voice mails. 

Hey, Cas, just checking in. 

How are you doing? Everything ok?

Cas, call me. We need to talk. 

Didn’t realize you were taking off. 

Service sucks in the bunker, want to make sure you’re getting these?

Call me when you can.

Want to make sure you’re ok? 

Cas, check in when you can.  

Cas, please.

Cas.

Cas, please answer me, man. I’m worried. Radio silence isn’t like you.

All right, it’s been two days. I’m really worried.

About you.

I don’t know why you’re not replying. 

Is it because you can’t? Or won’t?

Five days... 

Did I do something? 

Tomorrow’s a week.

I think I know now, and I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry, Cas. 

I’m sorry about Jack. I’m sorry I fucked up... 

I’m sorry that what I did, and what we lost, caused you to leave.

His fingers fumble with the phone. How did you know? He simply texts back, because, well, he’d thought that Casiel’s powers were failing. Could the angel still sense him when he was in distress without being anywhere near him? 

You wake at the same time every night without fail, Cas replies a moment later. The nightmares have always been frequent but they seem to have become more systematic lately. I can usually tell when you’re about to have one depending on the time of night it is and how far into REM sleep you are.

Again, Sam is thrown for a loop, and more than touched. Cas had really attuned himself to Sam’s sleep patterns, so he’d best know how to help him. He’s about to reply back when the phone rings. He’s relieved, and honestly, a little bit bitter. He’d spent all the time waiting to hear from Cas, only for him to call him now. He didn’t understand why, but he was going to find out. 

The wave of calm that washes over him once he hears the angel’s voice, however, is immediate and blissful and saps the confrontational energy right out of him. 

“Sam, are you all right?” Castiel’s voice is a low, gentle vice that holds Sam still, and steers him back to reality. The hunter doesn’t really register that he’d been palming his scarred hand until his fingers uncurl from it. 

He puffs out a haggard breath, attempting to quell a new wave of dizziness. “I don’t know,” he slurs. “Not really. No. Since I shot God, I’ve been having these dreams, or premonitions or whatever. They keep getting more and more vivid. And honestly, they’re really starting to scare the hell out of me.” He lowers his head so that they’re between his knees, and it helps a little in lessening the constriction of his chest and the spinning of the room. “Cas… we ran into Lilith, of all people. Apparently, Chuck brought her back, to take the gun from us. And she did. And ... and she said that Chuck isn’t done with us. He’s writing the ending that he wants. He hasn’t left. I was so damn stupid to think he had, that he was gone….” 

The sound of silence on the other end of the phone makes him shudder, and he wraps an arm around himself. He’s waiting, wanting, for Cas to say something. Anything. Tell him he’s imagining things, that he’s crazy, that he’s stressed and tired and — 

“I came to the same conclusion,” Cas says grimly. “Only I didn’t run into Lilith. I wish I could appease your fears, Sam. But I think you’re right. Chuck isn’t gone. And I think I have proof beyond just Lilith’s word.” 

Sam’s blood turns to ice. “What?” He asks. “How?”

“I wasn’t going to mention it, but… do you… remember Becky Rosen?” 

Sam sours again and suppresses another shudder. Yet another crappy memory. “Y-yeah. What about her?” 

“She’s missing. Along with her husband and children. It’s all over the news here.” 

Sam blinks, raising his brows. “Wait - you’re kidding…. Becky got married? And had kids? Okay, uh…. wow. But how do… how do you know it’s Chuck, Cas?” 

“Because I’ve been reading everything about the case, and from what neighbors have said, Becky, her husband, and children, all went into their house, and never came back out. Their car is still here. There’s no sign that they left on foot. There’s no damages to the home that would suggest an intruder. It’s like they blipped out of existence. Or someone snapped them out. Like what the Mad Titan Thanos did to the Avengers in Infinity War.” 

Sam waves a dismissive hand that Cas can’t see. “Yeah, I know the Marvel reference - Cas…” He swallows down as much water as he can before he continues. “I don’t…. Why would Chuck go after Becky, of all people? She’s his ex, didn’t they have feelings for one another at one time?” 

“Becky got played just like the rest of us have,” Cas reminds him. “It may not be him, but I just thought… I can’t shake this feeling that he’s involved somehow. I’m going to keep looking into it, I’ll text you when --” 

Sam cuts him off. “Wait, Cas… why… why don’t you come back… to the bunker?” He pleads. “Please. We could use you here. Or if you don’t want to meet here, I could… I could come meet you. I need some air right now, and I could…. Cas, I really need to see you. You’ve been ignoring all of my messages and you won’t even tell me why. Now out of the blue you message me, and you expect me not to ask what’s going on? Talk to me. Please.” 

It makes him feel so incredibly vulnerable, admitting to Cas how much he views him as an anchor, and how much he needs him. 

“The exit off 36,” Cas says after a long moment. “182. Just outside Bellaire. I’ll meet you there. I’m not too far out.” 

“Okay,” Sam agrees, and some of the tightness in his chest finally relieves. 

——

He’s still trembling when he sees the headlights of Cas’s car approaching, and had been on the entire drive here. He guesses that the after effects of the visions are getting harder and harder to shake off. They’re so reminiscent of his early days with them, back as a twenty-three year old boy. The only difference now is that he was older, wiser, and not quite as innocent. 

When Cas steps out of the car and nears him, the angel’s expression is one of concern. “Oh, Sam,” He chokes, sorrow etching on the lines of his face, “You look terrible.” He reaches up to caress Sam’s cheek, and Sam’s eyes flutter closed. It’s such a tender touch that he wants to melt into it. He forces his eyes open again. 

Cas is frowning at him as he looks him over, at the dark circles under the hunter’s eyes, the paleness of his skin. 

“I haven’t really been sleeping,” Sam explains in response. “Because when I do, the dreams - the visions that I’m having… it takes me a long time to calm down after. I just know that he’s… he’s got something horrible planned for us. He’s… Cas, I think he’s showing me things. Not intentionally, but…”

“What are you seeing?” 

Sam takes a deep breath, steeling himself. Cas places an encouraging hand on his shoulder.

“Sam. It’s all right. You can tell me.” 

“Me,” Sam answers. “I’m seeing me, and Dean. In one of them, we’re in the bunker, and I kill him. I snap his neck, and I’m happy about it. I’m evil. I’m hooked on the demon blood again, and it’s worse than ever. My eyes - my eyes are black, and I’m - I’m so far beyond gone. And when I wake up, I can taste it, I…” He forces the bile down that’s trying to come up again. “I wake up with the taste of blood in my mouth and the thrill of killing my own brother.”

Cas nods sympathetically, but doesn’t say anything. 

He waits for Sam to find his voice again. 

“The others are just as bad. I’m Lucifer, and I burn Dean down to the bone. In another, he’s got the Mark of Cain. You didn’t come save me. So he kills me with the First Blade.” He pauses long enough to take a rattling, wet breath. “I need you, Cas. I need you back home, with us. Yeah, I’ve got Dean, and he has me. But we - I need you, too. You’re my best friend, my family. I know it’s so hard for you to be there, after Jack. I can hardly look around without seeing him, either. But distancing yourself from us to grieve alone is just... ” 

Castiel lowers his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t go back there. I’m not welcome, not after what happened with Jack, and your mother. I’m afraid that I’d just be a horrific reminder of that.”

Sam recoils. “What? Of course you aren’t a reminder, Cas, you’re… wait, is this why you left? You thought you wouldn’t be welco --” 

“You’re misunderstanding,” The angel shakes his head, and sighs. “I didn’t just leave, Sam. Dean…he wanted me to leave, he -- he can no longer stand my presence. He told me in so many words that he didn’t wish for me to remain there. He blames me for not just what happened with your mother, and with Jack, but also Rowena.”

“What?”

Sam goes silent, thunderstruck. And then it all falls into place: Dean’s attitude in the Crypt, the lack of regard for Cas and his well being when he sent Cas off to Hell with Belphegor; how easily he’d shrugged off Sam when he’d asked about the angel. How easily Dean could lie and make up an answer, how he could just say that Cas left because he “needed space to grieve away from them,” and not to worry about him. Castiel ignoring his messages.... 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The younger Winchester demands. It lacks any real anger or conviction. It sounds sad even to his own ears. “Dammit, Cas. I could’ve talked to him, I could’ve stopped him…” 

The angel grips his shoulder more firmly, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh. “No, Sam. You were grieving for Rowena. I wasn’t going to disrupt that. Your brother told me that he thinks everything that goes wrong with your lives is because of me. And I felt that… that if I’m no longer present in your lives, then perhaps -”

“Oh, no, that’s bullshit,” Sam cuts him off, now heated. “Screw that. No. You’re one of the best things about our lives - about my life!”

“Sam -”

“I would’ve come after you,” Sam says, and he surprises himself when he realizes that he means it. If he’d known that Dean had kicked Cas out, Sam would’ve put a pin into grieving yet another close friend and gone after the angel, no matter how pissed Dean got. 

A slight smile curves on Cas’s lips; knowing, affectionate. “I know you would have. I know you would’ve pulled me back, and that’s why I didn’t respond to you. I wanted to keep you safe. Keep you alive, give you a chance at happiness.” 

There’s a long pause in which neither of them move, or say anything. Sam’s heart is pounding loud in his throat, and his eyes are muddled again with emotion. And Cas is looking at him with such soft intensity it’s as though he views Sam as the most precious thing he’s ever seen. 

“You mean so very much to me, Sam,” Cas says. “I don’t think you understand how much. But I will not force you to choose between me and your brother. You’ve had so many choices thrust upon you, I will not add to it. You’ve suffered so much and I can’t watch you be hurt again.” 

Sam huffs, nodding bitterly. “Yeah, well. What if I’m not making a choice? I’m done doing that. I’m tired of it. I want to take what I want.”

He was tired of being Chuck’s puppet, a mindless marionette on a fucking string to use and break and throw away. He was tired of being told what he could and could not have, could not save, could not love. 

And right now, he wanted Cas back home with him.

He wants Cas, in whatever way that was. 

“Then you should,” The angel replies easily. He’s waiting, Sam realizes. They’ve reached a crossroad, and Cas is waiting either for Sam to turn and walk away, or to do something with that declaration. 

He fixates Cas with a stare, watching the angel’s expression for any sort of change, any sign that this isn’t what he wants. There’s an unspoken language occurring between them, and Cas’s eyes read that he’s very aware of what Sam’s telling him, and he’s not backing out.

Sam fights it until he can't anymore. 

He surges forward and presses his lips against Castiel’s, furiously, deeply. The angel rocks on the balls of his feet from the force of it, his hand still on Sam’s shoulder. But he isn’t pushing him away, and Sam thinks that’s a good sign. And then Cas’s other hand comes up to grip Sam’s hair tenderly, and suddenly, he’s responding back in equal fervor.

When Sam pulls away at last, he’s panting again, a little dizzy, but for an entirely different reason than trauma. “Wow,” He croaks, a little sheepish.

“For lack of a better word,” Castiel agrees, somewhat breathless himself. “How long have you thought about doing that?” 

“Pretty much since I met you,” Sam mumbles, ducking his head. “But especially lately, and after you left, I…” And then the moment passes and like always, the guilt settles in. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t mean to just  --”

“No. Don’t you do that,” Cas admonishes gently. “Don’t you apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. Especially not that. Do you honestly think I’d have allowed that to happen if I didn’t want it to?”

Sam goes red, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just didn’t think you’d feel ---” 

And now Cas is the one leaning into him, running his lips along Sam’s jawline. “I do.”

Sam can’t quite believe what’s happening. He’s entertained the thought of this, more times than he cares to admit if he’s honest, but he never thought it could actually happen. He’s nose to nose with the angel, and probably looks like a blushy moron. But he finally feels contentment for the first time in days. Or at least, something resembling it.  

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I lied beside you,” Cas tells him, and now it’s his turn to look somewhat awkward. “Perhaps even longer. Much longer than I ever realized.” 

Sam laughs a little. “So… what now?” He asks, tentatively.

Cas hums, thoughtful. “So now...we find out what happened to Becky Rosen and her family,” He says. “And then we go home, back to the bunker, whether Dean likes it or not. And we find a way to defeat Chuck and what he’s trying to bring to pass.”

Sam nods, weakly, finally disentangling himself from Cas. It doesn’t feel so much like letting him go as it does a temporary pause.

“Yeah. All right. Sounds like a plan.” 

[sweetymutant]

Illya unfolded the note, hopeful for a sign, anything. He read it, once, twice, his smile becoming broader. For a few seconds, he said nothing, holding the note, just smiling. “Meet me in the café where it all began, the morning after you come back, at nine. I will be waiting.”

I should have known you’d do something like that. I should have known.

Pick any passage of 500 words or less from any fanfic I’ve written, and stick that selection in my ask/fan mail. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what’s going on in the character’s heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you’d expect to find on a DVD commentary track.

Ok, so. First, to contextualise, this note is written by Napoleon Solo and comes at the very end of the fic, a rather long (75k words) Man From U.N.C.L.E. 2015 fic. These are the conclusion words, everything leads to this moment. 

“The café where it all began” hints at Napoleon and Illya’s first meeting that did not go very well in that fic, and it’s meant as Napoleon offering a new beginning, a new first meeting to Illya. 

Here, Illya is happy, because his feelings for Napoleon have been very conflicted and have brought him lots of trouble, and at that point in the fic, he knows what he wants but is not sure if Napoleon wants it back -and this is proof for him that yes, they have a chance together. Illya has been waiting for this for a long long time.

Now, for me, first I did it because I had fun closing the loop of the story with a kind of mirroring image between the “I have made an appointment with your partner-to-be for tomorrow morning. He will be waiting for you in a café,” of the first chapter and this note, and you know me I LOVE mirror stuff in my fics and loops. I am obsessed with loops. Also, I wanted an open ending -to allow for a sequel should people want one- and probably because I could not make my mind on what the end would be. Their last conversation/new beginning/whatever. Oh and it went from being a recorded message to a letter to a paper under the door of Illya’s flat to a note hidden in a box. This message changed its format a lot but not its contents. 

If I remember well -this was written in 2016 so bear with me- I had that ending done before I even had the last 3 chapters done. i knew I wanted it to be like that. 

To finish, what I now love a lot about this little thing is how many things can go wrong from then on in the sequel. Is Illya sure the note is from Napoleon? Is it a trap? Who will be waiting for him? And even if it is Napoleon, what will he tell him? HAHA! Who knows? Maybe I should write the sequel.  

Also the content of the note is the summary of the fic, because I am one lazy bitch trying to hook up my readers for a 75k words ride leading to a conclusion they technically already know.

[tragedybunny]

The Blade’s Edge - A League of Legends Fanfiction - Chapter 17

Hello Lovelies, I hope you are all well in these times. Out of sickness and moving house, I bring you this chapter.

❤Tragedybunny❤

They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected.

I stretch and make a note on the report in front of me, the last of a small mountain that had occupied most of my desk, well the desk I poached from the downstairs study. I determine that ultimately it contains nothing of consequence to the Empire. It puts forward that the rebelling mages put an end to Jarvan III, a conclusion that I find open to doubt. Rebels whose very existence was outlawed in Demacia would have seen much more value in the King as a bargaining chip or at least executed him very publicly. I imagine something else is at play. Unless their leader really is the raving madman the Crown Prince has painted him as.  Ah Demacia, that veneer of justice and mercy is starting to wear off. I wonder… no, that belongs in the past. 

We should dig deeper into what befell this last Jarvan, we might even find out before the newest Jarvan. I carefully lay out the orders in a code, wax seal it, and put it on the pile to be dispatched. At my feet, Skadi stirs and makes an excited chirp startling Bea who digs her claws into my shoulder and caws angrily. Jericho had infuriatingly been proven right about the challenges of keeping the two of them in the same house. I wince but stroke her head, trying to calm her. “Come in Rowan.”

The door to my parlor turned office opens and Rowan glides through, cloak billowing around them. “How did you know it was me?” 

I look down as Skadi hurtles across the floor, a black and red blur, to collide with their legs, leathery tail whipping back and forth.  “She never growls when it’s you.” 

They bend down and acknowledge her with a quick pat which sends her trotting happily back to my side. Rowan slides into the chair across from me, tactfully averting their eyes as I move the reports out of sight. “She certainly has grown quite large in just a couple of months.”

“She’s also a pain in my ass.” Papers stowed, I pull her into my lap, which Bea mercifully tolerates. “And how are you, Rowan?” 

“Quite excellent, that hidden library in the Bastion is yielding many interesting insights and mysteries. The Mage’s Council is eternally grateful to the Grand General for the unfettered access to it. It sounds as though he has fared well against this rebellion?”

“As you would imagine. Most of their number broke and ran as soon they realized who they were up against. He’s been chasing down stray bands of them but it would seem a good number have faded back into their former lives.” Skadi suddenly tilts her head up to lick my chin, a habit she’s developed that I imagine Jericho is going to despise. To his credit, he had tried to conceal his dislike for drake hounds but it didn’t take long before it was obvious. I don’t understand why he agreed to me keeping her at all. 

“And yourself, is the recent promotion agreeing with you?” I note they’ve been fidgeting with the sleeve of their robe since they sat. Typical of life in Noxian High Command, something more is at play. 

I stand, firmly holding Skadi, and Bea vacates my shoulder. “The weather is lovely, let’s walk and talk. I’ll show you my garden.” That should be far enough from any eyes and ears that could be curious. Moira, to her credit, rules the staff with an iron grip, but Gwen’s spy ring has taught me how dangerous their disloyalty can be. Rowan nods and follows my lead out into the hall. “I hate this damned promotion! Between overseeing a contingent of warmasons and leading the Guild I spend most of my time doing dull administrative tasks.” I can’t even admit to them that Inara is mostly running the Guild while I scramble to keep tabs on all of Jericho’s pawns, allies and enemies alike. When he returns I’ll have to have words with her, she’s been spikier than usual and seems to be avoiding me. I navigate the stairs with Skadi in my arms, she still has trouble not tumbling down them, and set her down to bound along behind us. “And I still think it has more to do with earning my husband’s favor than anything I’ve done.” Summer has just settled over the Capitol and the windows all stand open to ease the stifling heat. 

“Perhaps, or perhaps your capabilities are greater than you estimate. I’ve heard no complaints about your performance.” Rowan has developed quite a few ties in High Command with their place in the Mage’s Council, and they’re not shy about exploiting that for information. 

Silence falls as we pass through the house and finally we reach my long sought after prize. The garden, now reclaimed, is an explosion of color, order carefully disguised as chaos. It seems like a wild space, a forest clearing somewhere far from the harsh steppes of the Noxian homelands, as long as you ignore the benches and fountains.”How do you like it? I didn’t want it to look overly fussy.” 

They think for a moment as we continue to stroll. “Perceptive choice. You make an excellent Lady of the House. Perhaps you can even host that trade delegation from Piltover”  

I turn to glare at them and see the smile they don’t bother to conceal. “You’re not the first to think this a joking matter. You’re just lucky I’m fond of you and won’t consider stabbing you for it. And don’t remind me of the god's forsaken mess that is Piltover.” We come to a stop and I notice Bea perched in the branches above us. She hasn’t strayed far since Jericho left, she must really feel his absence. “I know you’re not here for tea and gossip or to see this garden. What really brings you here?”

We’re finally out of earshot of the house, a small tree blocking us from view. They lean down to use a hushed tone anyway. “She came to see me. She’s plotting something, I can tell. She was making not so subtle overtures for my allegiance.” 

I narrow my eyes. She’s getting aggressive with Jericho gone, but this is more proof of his suspicions. Maybe even something that can finally be acted on. “Keep her dangling?”

“I played neutral, yes. There’s more though, I’m hearing constant rumors, she’s recruiting others. There are possible traitors everywhere, even among your own.” 

I think of all the Guild’s potential recruits that have vanished, our numbers still thin, likely an intentional move. I didn’t miss the tense look of General Talus when she promoted me, giving me rank in Intelligence I hadn’t earned. It makes sense now, my loyalty to the Trifarix is somewhat guaranteed. The irony is that the threat is from within the council itself. “Keep what mages you can loyal. And if you can get any word of her sanguinary friend moving outside his little Crimson Cult, make it a priority.” 

“Of course. And I’ll await the Grand General’s return with fervor, ready to be of any use I can.” They look down suddenly, eyes wide. Skadi is happily chewing on the hem of their robe. 

“Bad girl, stop that.” I lean down and scoop her up “Apologies, we’re still training.” I grimace, cheeks flushing. 

Rowan laughs, a musical sound that’s been said to enchant. “Worry not, this is the least of our problems. I will be in touch, dear Katarina.” 

Once I see them out I return to the daunting stack of reports. They have a strict deadline of tomorrow morning, I’ve already put them off as long as I can. Currently, I oversee our warmasons to the far west, mainly Demacia and its immediate neighbors. This intel isn’t used for direct military action, yet. We predict where they will intervene, where the Empire can use it’s warhosts most effectively. Although, with all that has happened, I imagine Demacia’s military will be occupied for some time. I can’t say they don’t deserve this with their foolish and backward attitude toward magic. 

My mind wanders to Rowan’s warning, the danger is growing and she’s outed herself as the one behind it. If she were mortal I would have slit her throat long ago. She ensnared my father, caused his death, and now she threatens my…, my husband. I look down at the ring on my hand, still an unbelievable thing to behold. He was right about the necessity, it’s been an endless task to keep our circle of allies tight and make sure his presence is still felt in the Capitol. There is the nice little reward of my critics being forced to refer to me as Commander Swain with the sourest looks. 

I pull a fresh sheet of parchment from the desk. I haven’t written lately, he’ll probably be looking for an update. Not that he’s been consistent about writing me back, it seems one for every three I write. I should really chide him about that when he returns. 

J. 

Rowan came to see the garden today. He had some words of wisdom on its care. I’m hosting Argos and his new companion for dinner, let’s see if she’s more entertaining than the last. Bea is well, she’s adjusting to Skadi quite nicely. Noxus celebrates your triumphs and I’m confident you will bring a decisive end to these rebels soon. 

K.

Seemingly nothing but domestic babble, I trust him to know what I mean. Rowan came with information, Argos is still loyal, and I’m still managing everything as he would like. I keep them brief since I know he’d prefer to not have excess information to sift through. I tuck it into an envelope and set my personal wax seal on it. One perk of my position in Intelligence is being able to send my letters with official military dispatches. 

There was never any doubt that Jericho’s Warhost would crush the rebellion. While not as legendary as the Trifarian Legion, it would be foolish to underestimate it. Really any army could have sufficed with him at its head. I have to admit, I regret I didn’t get to join this campaign. I’d rather be at his side, slitting throats for him, than here reading reports. Damn it, I really miss him. Even if he manages to keep things between us nebulous still. It doesn’t change how I burn for him to be back home beside me.

I need to take a trip to Guild Headquarters tonight. All these emotions have become like waves battering the side of a beleaguered ship, leaving no peace in their wake. I need some good old-fashioned bloodshed to clear my mind and still my heart. When the last report is read and my dispatches are properly sealed and bundled for the morning, I head to my room and ready myself for the hunt. Armor and daggers in place, I head for the stairs, leaving via the window seems awkward now that I’ve become so inexorably tied to this house. Moira is overseeing some grand cleaning endeavor in the hall and I nod as I pass her only to catch a scathing look she too slowly tries to erase. I inhale sharply, and here I thought we were having a pleasant armistice. “Yes?” I snap and regret the momentary loss of control. She hesitates and I temper my tone. “Did you have something you wished to say?”

Finally, after another breath, she lets it out. “Well, the staff was just confused as to why we weren’t informed the Grand General was on his way home.”

I narrow my eyes, it can’t be. “Are you sure about this?”

Her face pales, the implications dawning on her. “Y-yes, the word is all over the city today.” Of course, I’ve been sequestered all day with damn reports. “The army turned east some time ago, engaged in a battle, and is now closing in on the Capitol.” 

“I see.” God’s how embarrassing, to be so in the dark. That must be what Rowan was meaning. I swear I’ll repay him for this oversight. “Well, now we all know.” I turn and walk away, leaving her with a word still on her lips, desperately hiding how much it stings to be forgotten. How was he so thoughtless? Nevermind, it must have been a mistake. We’ll laugh it off once he’s home. 

Even telling myself that doesn’t quiet the nagging accusations in my head, but the Guild has the cure I seek. There’s a certain diplomat who’s been acting as a second rate spy. The nerve, coming here and thinking you get away with a half-arsed espionage attempt. This is Noxus, if you’re going to spy, you had better excel at it. This is the one I’ve decided to handle personally.

Inara had laughed and asked if I was still sharp as I left, but the jab felt hollow, and I ended up rolling my eyes and walking away. One benefit of Jericho’s unexpectedly imminent return is that’s something I’ll be able to handle. As it turns out, I don’t have to worry about being sharp, my quarry is likely to provide a laughably small amount of challenge. One look through the window I’m perched at reveals a man of ridiculous girth. The only challenge will be making this somehow appear accidental.  Despite the reputation of Noxian diplomacy, the outright murder of a foreign agent, even a known spy, would be considered bad form. 

His bulk spills over the side of the chair he’s seated in, alone in a room with the lamps turned down low, pouring over some document. I try to analyze my possible approach, how I should navigate this, but with all that just transpired, my patience has run out. I slide the window open, not even trying to quiet it as it gives a keening whine, who needs a plan. I draw a dagger and I’m inside and behind him before he even reacts to the noise. “Writing a little note home?”

He’s been trying to turn to catch the noise, and he comes face to face with me. I give him a predatory smile. “M-Madame, C-Commander!” He stammers, eyes wide with dawning understanding. He opens his mouth, no doubt to scream for help. 

I silence him with a blade to his throat, freezing him in an awkward pose with his head turned toward me.  “That’s the problem with the position I find myself in. Now you all know me, and each and every one of you thinks to beg me for mercy. Well, I have none, especially not tonight.”

“Please...please.” His voice squeaks as I press the dagger harder against his throat. Another for tears and cowardice it would seem. How dull.

“What did I just say?” Forget accidents, forget political ramifications. Vision fading to red, I drag the blade across his throat; forget who I’m supposed to be. “You really should have screamed for help when you had the chance.”

I dodge the spray from his severed veins and watch him meekly make his exit from this life. There is no satisfaction though, no blissful relief from my own inner turmoil, just a hollow tiredness. Resigned, I leave him to be found, too late to cover my work.  I make my way back home, running the rooftops in yet another desperate attempt at settling myself. Below me, the city pulses with life, even at this late hour, as work and leisure never cease among the endless denizens of the Capitol. It does come, just a bit, a little serenity in the noise and motion, as leap one edge to the next, and climb every height in my path. It feels so familiar,  I almost expect my long gone stalker to appear, steps haunting mine. It’s fleeting though and vanishes all too soon. I sigh as the seriousness of what I’ve done finally catches up to me with my now clear head. This blatant murder could reverberate throughout our allies, undermining so much diplomatic work. It was reckless and rash and I should have known better. Even worse, I know he'd be disappointed. I berate myself the rest of the way home.

 I think longingly of the bottle of wine sitting on my desk, temptingly untouched. Since nothing else has managed to soothe me I could just drown it all. That’s likely to cause me further troubles though, I haven’t forgotten the disaster the night before our wedding. It’s still waiting for me when I return home, along with an eager little drake hound that demands my immediate attention with her high pitched chirps. With her scooped up in my arms, affectionately nipping my fingers, I leave my temptations behind for bed. I need to regain control, I’ve ceded so much of it to Jericho over time, and now my own emotions are spiraling dangerously. I almost laugh at the thought, embracing that lack of control has defined me for so long now. I yawn, there will be time for deep thoughts tomorrow.   

The hour is late by the time Skadi is happily tucked into her own little bed in the corner and I crawl into mine, which feels so very empty with just me in it. Painfully sober and finally admitting to myself I’m bitter at Jericho’s neglect, I fall into a fitful, brief sleep. Some nightmare haunts me, someone in the shadows hunting me, a flock of ravens, a woman’s laugh, cold and cruel. I’m ripped from the senseless cacophony by a less than impressive growl from across the room. “Go back to sleep, it’s still night.” A noise comes from Jericho’s private parlor beyond the door and with a final small growl, Skadi shoots into the darkness before emitting her tiny roar. 

“Cease that you little beast.” Oh, no. Hurriedly I leap from the bed, rushing to the other room to find a single lamp lit and Skadi with her teeth locked around Jericho’s ankle. My heart leaps into my throat, my irritation forgotten. He’s home. He glowers down at her while her too small teeth fail to pierce the leather of his boot. 

“Bad girl, stop.” I can’t help the slight laugh that escapes me as I bend down to pry her off her target. The sight of her determinedly trying to maul him is too much. With her squirming about in my grasp, I stand back up, and my laughter quickly dies in my throat at his dark expression. “Sorry about that.” My mouth feels dry.

“I thought you were supposed to be training her.” It’s not harsh or cruel, but cold and detached. He moves past us without another word, into the bedroom. 

“I am, she’s still young.” I trail behind him, elation dissolving, my heart sinking. “I wasn’t expecting you home. You didn’t write to let me know.” 

He goes about the room, turning the gas lamps on, throwing a harsh brightness over everything. “I sent word to High Command. I assumed it would be relayed to you.” His tone indicates he didn’t concern himself over it. He pulls the chair back from his desk and drapes his coat over it, again sparing no words for me as I stand there awkwardly. Even Skadi has gone still at the grim atmosphere.

“Well, it didn’t.” He sits and starts sorting through the papers stacked neatly in front of him. “I take it you’re intending to work?” The sun hasn’t yet pierced the horizon. 

He nods, not looking my way. “There is much to be done. I’ll expect a report of anything you find pertinent.” 

“Right.” I take Skadi and retreat down that narrow passage to my room, to a bed I haven’t been exiled to in so long. Fighting to breathe, cheeks burning, and eyes stinging, I lay in bed and pull her close. That was so much the Jericho of old, the cold possessive man who saw me as an asset, a tool.  It was like there was nothing there of the man who’d held me close on our wedding night and called me wife so softly. 

What did you think, foolish girl, that he cared for you? Do you never learn? He got everything he wanted from me, the Guild, my position in Intelligence, and a wife to manage his interests in his absence. He no longer needs to maintain his charade. I feel the tears threatening to spill over and I smother them. No, he’s taken everything else, he can’t have them as well. 

[nanamicide]

A life of her own - chapter 6

Read on AO3

Dear me,

So, this is it, isn’t it? My entire life until a month ago was one big lie. I can’t say I didn’t expect it. I can’t say that I haven’t known this all long. But admitting it hurts. Having to talk about it, and come to that conclusion, even though Gekkogahara-san was there to support me along the way, hurt like hell. I don’t think anything had ever hurt me in such a manner before. It really cut deep – as if I was on the battlefield and some skilled soldier were stabbing me repeatedly, making sure to not hit any organ that would cause my death and wanting me to suffer with each and every hit.

I don’t know if I can recover from this. I feel like I have to, but it isn’t easy. It doesn’t help that I’m too much of a coward to open up to Naegi-kun about this. It doesn’t help that I still don’t feel like I deserve to spend time with him. It doesn’t help that I’ve been watching him get closer and closer to Kirigiri-san while the voice inside my head is screaming at me to just tell him already.

Still, that’s not the worst part about any of this – I don’t feel like it’s right for me to get so hurt over things. After everything I’ve done with Junko, I deserve all these things. It doesn’t matter that Gekkogahara-san says I have circumstances that can explain my past actions. It doesn’t matter that Naegi-kun thinks there is some good in me and that I will be able to redeem myself sooner or later. I killed people. Many people. So many that I can’t even remember all their names. They were never people to me. They were obstacles in Junko’s way – obstacles that needed to disappear. And I made them disappear.

So what if Junko killed our parents? So what if she never loved me? So what if everything in her belongings is just extra proof of the fact that there was nothing that she loved more than despair? So what if, somehow, she was always like this? So what if I let her kill the only person who had the means to save her and was actively trying to do so? I can’t suddenly have feelings after everything I’ve done for her. My pain isn’t legitimate.

And yet, I am hurt. I am so hurt that I’ve been ignoring Naegi-kun for the past three days. Yesterday he slipped a note under my door saying he was worried about me, which made me feel even worse. Why on earth would anyone be worried about me? I’m not worthy of any of this. I’m not even worthy of receiving therapy. I’m not worthy of writing in this journal. Because at the end of the day it’s like, boohoo, poor Mukuro, she’s sad because she finally became aware of her sister’s true nature, but at the same time she enabled all of it! She was plotting and working with the one who was responsible for her parents’ death!

Poor little Mukuro, the guy she likes likes someone else, but she would have killed him without a second thought if her sister had asked her to.

This is pathetic, isn’t it? I keep saying that I shouldn’t be hurt over any of this, and yet I keep whining here. I keep whining instead of living my life the way I promised Gekkogahara-san I would during one of our first sessions together. I keep whining instead of doing what I owe all the people I murdered in cold blood, without even feeling any regret.

So here I am. I have no idea where to go from here. Gekkogahara-san suggested I grieve as much as I need to, but as I’ve been saying the whole time, and even though I can’t stop myself from doing it, it doesn’t feel right. So, I want to stop, regardless of what she thinks I should be doing. I understand that she’s an expert and all that, but after all the consequences me just following someone else’s orders have had, I no longer want to just listen to people.

I guess I want to regain some sort of control over my life, but I feel as though I have none. I can’t stop myself from being sad even when I feel it’s not legitimate. I can’t confess to Naegi-kun, even though this would be my one chance to stop him from getting to close to Kirigiri-san and make him see me as something different than the girl who needs a friend and a lot of support. Hell, I can’t even stop myself from liking him when I believe I do not deserve to be with him. I can’t really do much. All I can do is just sit around and feel sorry for myself. I don’t really enjoy it. I don’t enjoy it at all, actually.

Truth is, there is something I could do. In the note he slipped under my door yesterday, Naegi-kun invited me to a picnic that’s taking place tomorrow. Apparently, all our classmates will be there too. Meaning it won’t just be the two of us. Meaning it might make things even worse than they already are – but you know what? I would deserve that.

Still, I won’t go if I’m still feeling the way I’m feeling right now. I know they will ask me questions about Junko, and given the current state of things, that’s terrifying. I don’t want to have to deal with people judging me for siding with the person who murdered my parents. I don’t want to have to explain what I’ve done for her. I don’t want to see Yasuhiro-kun’s and Asahina-san’s faces turn a ghostly white when I talk about how I’ve murdered people.

I don’t want to have to tell them we had come up with an awfully specific plan that would have ended with them mutually killing each other. I don’t want to have to tell them that I was so stupid I thought Junko would have never thought of murdering me. I don’t want to admit that I enjoyed doing all these things with and for her because it made me feel useful to her – because it made me feel like she would always been there for me; like she actually liked and needed me just as much as I liked and needed her.

I don’t want to have to say these things in front of Naegi-kun. He’s never asked me any such questions, and I don’t think he imagines what my answers would be like. If he heard these things, he would probably never want to talk to me again. I would understand that, but I wouldn’t want it, regardless of how much I would deserve it.

It’s all so conflicting and confusing. No amount of talking and writing and having therapy sessions about it can change that. I’m starting to understand that things are never truly black and white, no matter how much Junko pretended they were. It’s never hope against despair. It’s hope and despair together. Just like it’s me knowing I have no right to be depressed while also being depressed; me wanting to be with Naegi-kun while knowing I don’t deserve him; me not wanting to lie and deceive anymore while understanding that it may be necessary for me to be able to have the normal life I crave.

I don’t hate Junko. I never did. Regardless of everything she’s done, I can’t bring myself to hate her. I feel like some people expect me to do it, but I can’t. I think that’s also part of things never being fully black or fully white.

-

Mukuro hurriedly closed her journal as she heard someone knock on her door. She still wasn’t feeling good, but something about what she had spent the past thirty minutes writing made her feel as though she had the strength to face people. Besides, part of her was hoping it would be Naegi-kun, even if the note he’d given her yesterday read that he would leave her alone today, and that he understood that things could be rough for her.

Her eyes widened as she opened the door and saw Sakakura-san stand there in the rain. She’d never had any pleasant interactions with the man – Mukuro understood that he resented her for the things she’d done for her sister – but something about the look on his face made her feel as though today wouldn’t be entirely bad.

“You need to come with me,” he spoke dryly. “Munakata-kun wants to see something.”

She raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to ask a question, but the Ultimate Boxer cut her short.

“You’ll find out what this is once we’re there. I can’t tell you more than this. Some people may overhear us, and this would be bad.”

She nodded and followed him outside, thinking that she had nothing to lose. Of course, since he couldn’t tell her anything about what he needed her for in public, this meant that this was something related to with the Ultimate Despair – implying that whatever Mukuro would have to do wouldn’t be easy for her to go through. Yet, she found some sort of hope in it. If she could do what Munakata-san and Sakakura-san expected from her, she would definitely be able to face her classmates tomorrow.

Her determination somehow fell short as she noticed that Sakakura-san was injured. The rain and the clouds had made it difficult for her to make out his face when he was standing at her door, but now that they were walking by different sources of artificial light, she noticed a few bruises on his face. She wondered what had happened to him and if this was related to what he needed her for. She hoped not – she didn’t want to be a brainless soldier whose only purpose was to fight anymore.

The two of them eventually walked in the faculty staff’s building. As they paced through the hallways, Mukuro’s heart began to beat faster and fast.

This is going to be bad.

Sakakura-san led her to the underground floor. She wasn’t sure how her legs were moving anymore. She knew exactly who was hidden in this part of the school. And she absolutely did not want to see him again.

A few more doors were opened and closed, until they finally reached that same room where she’d first seen him. And he was sitting there, just like he had been on that day. The room also looked the exact same. The only differences in the setting were Sakakura-san’s and Munakata-san’s presences, as well as a few weapons that seemed scattered around the room.

Did they bring me here so he would kill me? Is that… Is that their way to get rid of me?

Mukuro’s hands were shaking, but none of the three men around her noticed. Well, he probably did, given that he had all the talents in the world, but he didn’t say anything about it. He just blankly stared at the wall behind her and Sakakura-san, very much like he had when she’d first met him with Junko.

She attempted to steady her breathing and calm herself down the way Gekkogahara-san had taught her during one of her therapy sessions. Still, her breathing got heavier and heartbeat faster than it had even been.

What’s happening to me? Am I… Am I scared of him? Is this normal? Why can’t I relax? I’m… I’m safe, right? The headmaster is here, there’s no way he’d let anything bad happen to me. He could have executed me along with Junko, so why would he set this entire thing up now?

“Ikusaba-san,” Munakata-san started. “We are testing Kamukura-kun’s abilities. You and Sakakura-kun are the only members of the academy who know about his existence and have a fighting talent. He’s already beaten….”

Mukuro tried to focus on the headmaster’s voice, but she couldn’t. She was feeling as though her brain and body were shutting down. Her legs felt weak – as if they’d suddenly turned into cotton – and her mouth felt incredibly dry, but this was nothing compared to the weight on her chest that made her feel as if she couldn’t breathe.

She tried to visually scan the room, but her eyes refused to move. They were glued to him; to the crimson red eyes who were staring back at her, as if the rest of the room had ceased to exist – as if they had both travelled back in time to that day where he’d hurt Junko.

As she collapsed onto her knees, the only thing she could hear was his deep, ominous, and monotonous voice:

“She is having a panic attack because she has not processed her trauma related to my existence. How boring.”

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 29

LISTEN TO ME — 0029

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 1.5K

Jisung hated many things in life, from peas to those stupid math problems we learn in elementary school, but he could tell, with all certainty the world, that seeing sad Jinah had become the worst of them, reaching the top of the list.

Oh, God! Han was accustomed to seeing her always smiling, twisting his patience or making some joke, not holding up that dejected expression. It was in these moments that he realized that Choi, gradually, became more and more important in his life, so that, for Jisung to feel good, it was necessary that the girl was in a similar situation. Part of the boy was afraid of the way things were going, but it was enough one of those smiles that only Jinah could give to put a momentary end to all his hesitations. That late afternoon, however, the life-saving smile wasn't present for a second.

"JinJin," — he called cautiously, his voice taking a little longer than necessary to penetrate the other's ears and bring Choi back from her swirl of thoughts. They were sitting at a cafeteria table, though Jisung didn't even like coffee. But Jinah liked it and that was what mattered. — "Stop thinking about what that guy told you. It's been three days since you've been like this."

Jinah looked down at the practically untouched cappuccino and sighed softly. She didn't want to — nor did she think she should — be that way, but it was a sense of anguish too strong for her to control.

"I'm afraid..." — she confessed in a murmur, and Jisung could only understand it because he read her lips.

"Never that he's going to touch you, you don't have to be afraid."

"But I'm not the problem" — Jinah looked up and stared at the boy's dark irises, overflowing with an urgency he had never witnessed before. — "It's you, Jisung. Minhwan is the last person I trust in the world. If anything happened, I'd never forgive myself and-..." — she was interrupted by the touch of the boy's hand in hers. Jinah watched Han's fingers interlock with hers and sighed a second time, wondering inwardly why it was so hard.

It was a simple and quick solution: if she severed all ties with Jisung, she'd rid him of many problems and end half of her worries, if it weren't for simply being unable to see herself living in a world far from the acid company who she fought so hard to have next to her.

From another angle, Jisung understood Jinah and everything she was feeling at that moment, for he was a good listener when, a few days ago, Choi had decided to vent not only superficially, but about everything.

According to her reports, Minhwan had been her first love of adolescence and he hadn't always meant something so dark in her life. The two of them matched like no one in the first few months, though Jinah knew that his fame had never been very good, but she wasn't the type who believed in other people's conclusions, since she preferred to meet someone on her own to listen to the comments that came in the corners. And contrary to what many people said, Choi, at first, was astonished by Minhwan's sweetness and grace, so she was even disgusted when she heard someone say that Kim was no good and that she should be careful. However, as the months went by and the passion was replaced by overwhelming jealousy, Jinah regretted bitterly that she hadn't relied on the advice of her parents and friends.

It wasn't a hundred percent abusive relationship, but Minhwan refused to accept the end of the relationship, using the people Choi loved as a threat. Son of a not-so-well-credited policeman in the town, it cost him nothing to gain access to a quantity of weapons an ordinary person would never have, what intimidated everyone around him and brought him an oppressive image. There were countless people who stopped talking to Jinah by force, all because her ex-boyfriend didn't allow Choi to have friends and share her life with someone other than himself.

It was painful to wake up in the morning and see angry expressions on the bruised faces — usually at dawn — and to know that she was, indirectly, the cause of every black eye and bruise; Jinah couldn't stand it any longer. In the course of the day, she ended up isolating herself from almost everyone she had contact with, gaining time until she figured out what she'd do to put an end to that hell, since simply denouncing him wouldn't do much, since his father would always cover up his bullshit in one way or another.

The fuse was when Minhwan, after having another one of his jealous crises, tried to discount the anger on Jinah's mother, something the girl, not even in a million years, would allow. Mrs. Choi had only been threatened and intimidated by the muzzle of the revolver when she was returning from the market, but it was that Jinah lost all the self-control she had been gathering up to that moment and ignored her fear of her ex-boyfriend — because she also was constantly threatened —, leaving for a grosser way of settling things, since this seemed to be the only language Minhwan understood. This had been the first time that Minhwan had beaten Jinah, and although it was tragic and humiliating, served to alert the neighbors, who, tired of witnessing all that violence and remaining silent, summoned the police and, gathering a good number of witnesses, not even the father of Minhwan was able to prevent the arrest of the son.

After the final occurrence, Jinah's parents advised her to leave the city and try a new life somewhere else. At first, the girl refused, fearing that, when the cause of all that torment came out of jail, would do something wrong with the two most important people in her life, yet, the fact was that the couple was very dear to all the neighborhood, and from that day on, the neighbors said that, if Minhwan ever set foot in that neighborhood, mainly to bother the Chois, he wouldn't go back to prison, but to the hospital or worse. Even with her heart pounding, Jinah was persuaded with much insistence and finally reached peace in Seoul, had it not been for the nightmare to return in order to take her sleep again.

Jisung just wanted to be able to remove all that anguish from her heart.

"We're going to find a psychologist for you," — he said slowly, trying to get as calm and secure as he could. — "I know it sounds kind of ironic, but I also know that you know how to deal with someone else's problems, not yours. Then let's contact the police. By the way, we should've done that last thing the first day."

"Jade also said that..." — Jinah replied dispassionately. — "But, the last time, Minhwan was in jail for so little time, who assures me it's going to work now?"

"Big city, JinJin, things are different around here."

"Even so, I don't even have proof, it won't do."

"That's why we need a psychologist" — Jisung referred to the way the girl was restless. He didn't take her point, but, if he was sure of something, was that acting like that did nothing but make things worse. — "In those cases, you need to stay calm and think rationally. I bet you've studied something like that."

Jinah nodded. She really knew what she should and shouldn't do, so much so that the idea of paying to hear something that was already well-impregnated in her mind sounded stupid, but maybe she needed someone to decipher her more than she herself had tried.

"I just wanted to forget this subject once and for all and continue living my life."

"You will" — Jisung smiled slightly and squeezed the girl's hand, which was still entwined with his. — "This is just another bad phase that life gives us as a gift and I promise to be with you until it passes in. Or rather, I promise to stay until after it passes as well."

"You shouldn't tell me that sort of thing" — Jinah managed to smile similarly to the boy. — "The risks of me falling in love more are bigger than I consider healthy."

"You say things so naturally, that amazes me" — Jisung could read between the lines. If Jinah, a few time ago, had told him indirectly that she was already in love with him, Han would probably have lost half of his neurons, but, at that moment, the only thing he felt was a warm hug in his heart. There's no way to understand.

"I'm just sincere" — Jinah shrugged. — "And you're taking advantage of my fragility to turn me into a melted butter," — she released Jisung's hands gently, wrapping her cup of coffee and sipping a lukewarm drink.

"You're already a melted butter naturally."

Jinah even opened her mouth to retort, but the truth was so obvious that she had no reason to prove otherwise.

And it wasn't as if Jisung didn't like that little detail, just as he liked everything else as well.

(a/n: such a boring chapter guys :( too bad it was so necessary, i'm sorry

well, i won't be updating so soon in the next few days cause i'll be really busy with college, probably the updates will be only on weekends, ok? i’m sorry.

and tomorrow i'll update again and the love of my life that hasn't yet appeared will be in it. give love to my love!!! and i think you guys will cause he’s the love of many other people too ksjdshs. he's in practically everything i do/write, even if it's just a mention, and if he didn't show up here, it wouldn't be nice of me

and also, i noticed i’ve reached 100 followers like omg!!!!!! srsly i never thought i’d reach it so fast, this is insane, and thanks to all of you, i’d wouldn’t be possible without you guys, thank you so so so much. i really don’t deserve y’all :(

as for a more recent fact, in the last chapter i talked about mingi and, guys, if you guys want, just imagine someone else's body, that was random, ok? i love mingi so much, my 3 meter tall baby, and i'd never put his character in such a ridiculous role, i just used that beautiful face of his as a reference to another character that doesn't really exist. if you guys want to imagine even james corden, that's fine with me

i already said too much, soon this will become a bible. love you and see you tomorrow <3)

[toshiro-46]

Bumblebee: A Comprehensive Guide to Your Favorite Ship

Hey, I ended up finishing this about a week back and was going to post it then, but I noticed that Bmblb week was upcoming and thought this might be a nice way to start it off.

To be clear: the purpose of this post is to be comprehensive. Every small detail I’ve noticed will be here, so like if you see something and you think “that’s not necessarily indicative of anything romantic”, you might be right, but don’t let that small detail detract from the larger picture. Unfortunately, though I’d like it to be completely comprehensive, I’m only human and no doubt will have forgotten and/or missed some details.

Speaking of small details, in the past I’ve been told that this is all too subtle and RWBY doesn’t do subtlety. To answer that, I invite you to look at Qrow’s semblance, or Raven being the Spring Maiden, or Ilia’s feelings for Blake. I don’t think this is out of line with any of those, and if anything it (particularly Yang’s feelings) is considerably more blatant than Qrow’s semblance and Ilia’s feelings were prior to their reveals.

Finally, I want to defend myself and other bees like me for a second because I realize that taking several hours to research and write this to argue in favor of a fictional (potential) romance, a ship, can be seen as a tad weird… but that’s not really how I view what I’m doing. I think of it more along the lines of a theory, because it’s actually not really different at all: I’m using evidence from the show to support a conclusion. It’s exactly what I did when making basically every other analysis I’ve done on the show. It’s just what the subject of this theory/analysis is. Ok let’s go.

Supplementary reading because I’m not the only person who’s written essays about bumblebee and I’ve used the first two as reference points:

The classic Masterpost by Allisonbw. Unfortunately, it’s two volumes behind, which is a big reason why I’m doing this.

A relatively shorter post by y8ay8a talking about why she thinks it’ll happen. Again, it’s two volumes behind, but still a very good read. Also her art is top notch so check that out.

I’m not as familiar with them, but rwby-analysis has also done several posts about bumblebee.

chained-prometheus has several posts I’ll be referencing, but just the blog in general has many fantastic analyses on why it’s going to happen.

The tl;dr is obviously Yang is gay for Blake, which I’m 95% sure of, and Bumblebee has a pretty good chance of happening.

There’s 4 sections. Yang’s feelings, Blake’s feelings, Parallels, and Eclipse.

#1. Hints of Yang’s Feelings

Volume 1:

There’s not much to say here, really.

Lowkey joking, but like, the only time we see Yang express any interest in boys (even though it was in an overly comedic tone) is in V1C3, and that’s immediately prior to when she meets Blake. After that, she has nothing but disinterest towards boys, like tfw Yang meets Blake. I don’t mean to be offensive because this is actually a thing, adolescents not realizing how they feel until they meet someone that’s their… type I think would be the correct word. Hell, Monty says something about this later on, which I’ll get to. And I’ll expand more on this scene, in a more serious manner, at the end of this section.

It’s worth noting that Blake and Yang have absolutely no relationship issues once they become partners, which - alongside Renora - is an interesting contrast to Weiss/Ruby and Pyrrha/Jaune.

Yang’s concern for Blake during V1C16 is in stark contrast to Weiss, and even though she just heard that Blake was literally a terrorist who seemingly defended all the horrible things that happened to Weiss, she’s more concerned about her safety and finding her.

Really there was very little on Yang and Blake’s relationship in this volume, which is a shame, but what can you do? I’ll tell you what you can do, you can go to the Director’s Commentary and see what Miles has to say about it! Which is what I did. The context of this quote is that it’s talking about when Blake elbows Yang when they meet Penny in V1C15.

That, that is really what I do love about Team RWBY, is that, we have these two pairs of girls, each pair is completely contrasting characters. Ruby and Weiss that causes them to butt heads, Blake and Yang? They get along, flawlessly most of the time.

To put it in my friend’s words: “This is particularly important as there are people that like to say that Yang and Blake have horribly clashing personalities and get along like ‘gasoline and fire’. That they have no chemistry and are absolutely horrible for each other. The idea has been around for awhile, but here’s actual proof that it’s been wrong from the very beginning.”

I also think it’s important because it sets a precedent that even little things like this are being taken seriously by the writers. They didn’t get a lot of time to show off Blake and Yang’s friendship this volume, but what they did show has meaning.

Finally, I wanted to mention Wings. Wings is either sung from Yang to Blake, or from RWY to Blake. But Weiss as the singer (which, I believe, has been the traditional interpretation) doesn’t make any sense, she simply doesn’t fit the singer’s very understanding, nurturing attitude towards Blake. Yang, on the other hand, is definitely characterized as nurturing, such as in Gold. I could see it being all of RWY, but again it’s not Weiss’s style, nor is it Ruby’s when she’s two years younger and she herself gets Yang’s nurturing side. Oh, and an instrumental of it played when Yang and Blake saw each other again for the first time since V3. So yeah, it’s probably Yang to Blake. Also Stray sounded like Straight the first 20 times I listened to this

Volume 2:

So it begins.

V2C1: “Whatcha doin’?” This is noteworthy for two reasons: 1. Yang, Blake’s new partner and future lover (don’t @ me), is interrupting her rumination on her old partner and former lover. Out with the old, in with the new. 2. This phrase is classic flirting, most notably seen in literally every Phineas and Ferb episode.

V2C2: “Yes! I love it when you’re feisty!” More flirting, not much else to say.

I mean obviously, we have the V2C6 scene: most of it isn’t inherently romantic, just a friend comforting another, excepting the rather infamous, “If you feel like coming out tomorrow, I’ll save you a dance.” wink? I shouldn’t have to explain this, it’s pretty blatantly flirting and a double entendre.

V2C6: My friend: “This is the most vulnerable Yang has ever intentionally allowed anyone else to see her. With Ruby in V3 she was too hurt to really guard herself, and even then she tried to deny caring about Blake. The only time Yang has ever let anyone see herself as vulnerable as in Burning the Candle is during her talk with Weiss about Blake.” Because Blake gets to her like no one else. See later when Yang keeps it together with Raven until she makes a snide comment about Blake.

The dance in V2C6-7. Out of our ten students (RWBYJNPRSN), 8 of them end up with someone here. The two who don’t? Ruby, who 1. is two years younger than everyone else 2. “is not really focused on romance” - Lindsay and 3. ends up with Cinder for most of the night and Yang. Yang, the one described as a “party girl” by the back of V1’s steelbook cover, doesn’t end up going with anyone to the dance. Take a second and think on how that’s pretty weird, especially when she says “I’ll be turning heads tomorrow night”. She does, however, dance with Blake, and then seemingly spends the rest of the night just chilling out and watching Blake be happy. To put it in Allison’s words, “Yang went and played wallflower for fuck’s sake.” Oh, and while doing that, Yang turns Blake’s head while she’s dancing with Sun. That shot is focused on ffs.

Something that should be noted: Yang is not a flirty person. She flirts with two sets of people: cute cat girl partners, and enemies. Or to put it another way, she flirts with Blake, and she flirts with enemies (Junior, Random WF Mook #294, Mercury sorta before their match I guess). So let’s not pretend that flirting with people is just a Yang thing.

Volume 3:

Let’s fast-forward to V3C8. Yang has to deal with being vilified in front of literally the entire world, thinking maybe she’s going crazy, getting her team kicked out of the tournament, and guilt over breaking Merc’s leg. What brings her to tears? Blake not believing her. Like this can’t be overstated. Yang is brought to tears like 6 times in series proper. 3 are due to Blake, 1 is her reunion with Ruby, and the other 2 are due to Raven. This relationship is just so important to her and her character, way beyond what you’d expect from a normal, platonic partnership (contrast it with Weiss and Ruby). And it’s not like they have a “sisterly relationship” (something I’ve heard too often) either, because again this is portrayed as different from Yang and Ruby.

Blake and Yang are always on the scroll together btw V3C10 proves this

In V3C11 she’s again brought to tears, and again it’s due to Blake. She’s more emotional in that moment than nearly at any other point in the series so far. And before that, she chooses to go after Blake over Ruby. This is Ruby, who has been missing for like an hour and who she called Blake about last episode because she was so concerned, as opposed to Blake, who was okay last Weiss saw her. And she goes after Blake.

In V3C12, Yang has to deal with everything she did before in V3C8 except now she’s short one arm, two people she knew are dead, her school is in ruins, Weiss is gone, her sister was in a coma for weeks, and you know what actually gets her to break and raise her voice at Ruby? Blake. Yang is more torn up about Blake leaving her than she is about any of the other shit, including her arm. She’s heartbroken.

There’s also a lot of shit about parallels here that I’ll get into later.

Volume 4:

Yang doesn’t mention Blake at all this Volume so we don’t exactly have a lot to work with.

There is, however, one useful quote from Sun in V4C11 that helps confirm what I said a little ways up: “That chameleon friend of yours got me pretty good, but I’d do it all again if it meant protecting you. And I can promise Yang would say the same… so stop pushing us out. It hurts more than anything the bad guys could ever do to us.” So in case you were doubting that Yang is indeed more hurt by Blake than by her arm, doubt no longer. Also parallels between Sun and Yang, which again we’ll get to later.

In Armed and Ready, Yang states she has nightmares every night about how she tries to save Blake (because “There’s nothing that I won’t do for her”). Not necessarily romantic, but telling.

Bmblb speaks for itself and deserves a mention here, regardless of everything that’s happened. I should also note that, in response to what Arryn said about songs not being in the show not being consulted over, Boop wasn’t in the show either until an instrumental or two in V4 and no one doubted its canonicity. And also this is important and relevant. I thought about expanding on this section more, but ultimately I don’t think it’s worth it.

Volume 5:

Not really a hint towards anything romantic but I thought this exchange in V5C6 was interesting: “Listen to your friend, Yang. Your teammates never let you down before.” - Raven, vaguely sarcastically. “You don’t know the first thing about my teammates! About me! You were never there! You left us! Why?” - Yang, her voice breaking by the end; Yang manages to keep it together until Raven makes a quip about Blake leaving her.

V5C8: Yang snaps at Ruby over Blake. Her scenes this episode portray actual heartbreak. I’m having trouble explaining it any other way, really. “What if I needed her here for me?” Like hello? + Yang/Ilia parallels which I will get to later. + This connecting it back with Sun and Blake’s talk in V4C11. Also this is a good time to mention Fre/ezerburn. People were/have been hyping it up, particularly because of this episode, but in my opinion, this episode does the opposite of supporting it. Yang and Weiss are given a private heart-to-heart together - pretty rare for RWBY characters… and they spend the entire time talking about Yang’s feelings about/for Blake. That’s not really what I’d expect from two characters interested in each other. Nothing against the ship itself, just doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen in canon.

V5C13: this is gay. No but seriously this girl gets paralyzed in the middle of a battle of life and death just from seeing Blake again. I have to emphasize again that this is so much more emotional and intense than how a normal friendship is and is portrayed in this show.

General stuff:

This is more about Yang’s sexuality than Blake specifically. When talking about it, people generally point to the scene in V1C3 where she… purrs I guess would be the sound at shirtless men as evidence that she likes men. Makes sense, but I don’t completely buy it. 1. It’s just a joke, both in a meta context and to Yang. She’s clearly just joking with Ruby and as soon as one of the guys (albeit Jaune in a onesie) takes notice of her, she gags. 2. She’s still a 17 year old fresh out of their equivalent of high school, it’s not uncommon for LGBT people to realize they’re LGBT around then. 3. This is still very early in the show and since that point (starting with V2 specifically) RT could’ve decided which way they wanted to go with the character. Ultimately it’s sort of irrelevant as it doesn’t matter much if she’s bi or lesbian, but I’ve always thought of her as a lesbian for reasons right below.

Historically Yang has not really liked men. Junior in the Yellow trailer, Jaune in V1C3, Port in V1C9, Neptune in V2C4, and Shay in V5C1. Unlike Ruby, she’s not a fan of Qrow’s story in V3C4. Unlike literally everyone else in RWBYJNPRSN, she doesn’t have any notable positive relationships with a member of the opposite sex, excepting those related to her.

Her reactions to Blake are far beyond what you’d consider normal for a friend, even a best friend. She gets angrier than we’ve ever seen her when Blake gets stabbed. She isn’t that angry when Ruby gets knocked out or when Weiss gets stabbed or anything, but she absolutely fucking loses it with Blake. And this is after going after Blake when as far as she knows she’s fine but Ruby’s been missing for a long time. Pyrrha and Penny died, Weiss left too, but what got Yang to crack and lose her temper with Ruby in the V3 finale is Blake. A reminder that Blake’s abandoning actually hurt her more than losing her arm did - Sun says as much in V4 and that again, she loses her temper at Ruby when Blake is brought up in V5C8. She actually goes still from shock when she sees Blake, p different from when she first sees Raven and Ruby, two people who she also reunited with this volume after being abandoned previously.    

Relevantly, in response to someone asking about LGBT characters, Monty said (and this is at the beginning of V2) “Sure, absolutely. The best part about that is maybe they are there now, because they’re kids and we’re on a path to help them discover themselves. I don’t think we even need to make that decision right away because we learn more about these characters as we write them. So we’re definitely not opposed to it, a lot of us are for it, I have some cast members and some crew members who are like “This would be really cool”. But the thing is we can’t just shove it out there, it has to be earned, which is the better way to do it. And a lot of these characters we try to look at outside of their gender so we just want to do what’s natural for them.” I think this is important because it’s pretty much what I think happened with them and Yang. At first, they didn’t think about it much and that’s why we didn’t get anything about it in Volume 1. But by the time Volume 2 starts, we get Yang flirting with Blake and all that. She may not have (in Monty’s words) discovered it herself then or even now, but we’re getting to that point.

#2. Hint’s of Blake’s feelings

There’s not nearly as much about Blake, but the moments she does have tend to be pretty significant.

Volume 1:

V1C6: Blake chooses Yang. She follows her in the Emerald Forest and deliberately makes eye contact with her. Obviously not specifically romantic, but the other two people who chose their partner had feelings for them.

gay

Volume 2: I personally can’t find anything that would indicate Blake has non-platonic feelings towards Yang. However note that she does tilt her head in a smile when Yang says “I love it when you’re feisty” in V2C2, so… it’s not just Sun whose flirting she responds to positively (V3C2 is what I’m referring to).

Volume 3:

In V3C8, Blake, unlike Ruby or Weiss, doesn’t immediately believe Yang. Why? Yang reminds her of Adam. Not in the sense that they have very similar personalities - they don’t, besides a few striking parallels - but in the sense that Blake thinks of them along very similar lines. She let love blind her once and doesn’t want that to happen again.

V3C11: A post on the Kuleshov Effect in use here by Chained Prometheus. In addition, Adam, who probably knows how to read Blake better than most, having known and/or dated her for 4+ years, can immediately tell she loves Yang just from a single look of hers. That’s something.

V3C12: Besides the obvious implication of this shot and what Sun is thinking about here (more on that here), what other relationship saw hand-holding in an intensely emotional scene this volume???

Volume 4:

In the opening, Blake glances away, leading into a scene with Yang, indicating that she’s thinking about her.

In V4C11, her voice breaks when she says Yang, a stark contrast to the other two she mentions. She also says, “I loved them like I never thought I could love anybody!” Wait… what? Was her friendship with Ilia - a 4+ year affair - somehow lesser than a friendship with them that lasted less than a year? That makes absolutely no sense! What about Sun, what about her parents?? Did she really love all of RWY differently and more intensely than everyone else she knows/knew? No. Just one of them.

Volume 5:

When she’s talking about her team in V5C5, her ears perk up and her tone changes when she talks about Yang. Again, it’s made exceedingly clear with small things like this that Blake and Yang care about each other differently than they care about the rest, and that this isn’t just a partner thing - once again look at Ruby and Weiss - it’s far more comparable to JNPR’s partner relationships than it is to WR (the difference btw between JP/RN and WR is that JNPR’s partner relationships are/were both romantic).

V5C13: “Yang?”<- her first thought when there’s a giant fucking ethereal lancer (huh wonder if the giant bee that’s there right as they see each other again means anything it probably doesn’t)(oh also that’s the whole reason she went in there in the first place bc Hazel got stabbed and she saw that and was checking it out, yet she still ignores it in favor of Yang) behind Weiss who has a peculiar stab hole in her shirt and also Mercury and Emerald are there for some reason fighting her team and somehow her team is back together and all this and yet her first reaction is “Yang?" Hammertime does a nice post on this.

Oh hey look it’s Hammertime again. Seriously, watch that, it’s only like 40 seconds long and relevant. Besides that V5C14 doesn’t have much beyond some smiles but those smiles are, in my completely objective opinion, pretty fucking gay.

#3. Parallels

The most important shit, in my opinion. Yang and being compared with Blake’s past and present love interests, name a more iconic duo.

Yang and Tai, Raven and Blake:

Raven and Blake: mysterious ninja (well Raven’s clothing is more samurai-esque I think, but I digress) girls with bloody pasts who use katana-esque swords and also incorporate their sheathes into their fighting, who have long black hair, and who have clear affinities to animals.

Tai and Yang: (I mean they’re father and daughter so the similarities/parallels should be obvious). Both obviously deal with some severe abandonment issues due to Raven and later Summer/Blake. Or how about this? Tai and Yang are both reminded of their former teammate/lover in a talk (Tai in V4C11 talking with Yang before she leaves, though this gif is from V4C12) and then go look at the photograph with them in it.

Raven/Blake leave their teammate/partner/person-who-is-in-love-with-them after a life changing event, which leaves Tai/Yang broken and shut down.- Raven and Blake are pretty clearly contrasted in their relationships to Yang. Raven leaves for (probably) selfish reasons, never bothers to give an explanation as to why (true for Blake atm, but Weiss at least explained it), and Yang is forced to find her. Blake leaves for selfless reasons and chooses to go back to and stay with Yang.

And, as per my friend​: 

Yang and Blake both seem to be succeeding where Tai and Raven failed. Tai suffered heartbreak and broke down. For a long time. He wasn’t a deadbeat who only just started working, because as Yang says to Weiss, Tai was always at work. But he threw himself into work instead of facing his issues. Yang had to deal with so much [ex: her arm and everything else I mentioned in the V3C12 blurb] on top of losing Blake. And yet, she still got back on her feet in under a year. And while she may not be better, she’s still moving to take care of those she loves. She’s working to heal.

As for Raven, she also had a problem with running away. While Blake just runs away, Raven runs and hides behind others. Which shows in her Semblance [A point I didn’t get, Blake and Raven even have sort of similar semblances], she can teleport to people she cares about. People who would protect her [And Blake ran away to protect Yang. Raven ran away to protect herself].

But where as Raven never overcame this, Blake decides to stop running and face her problem. Instead of getting revenge, she seeks to stop the source of the problems. And yeah, she didn’t go to Haven for Yang. But she decided to stay [And she willingly decided to face Yang in the first place]. Something Raven also didn’t do.

Yang and Adam:

I mean Blake herself compares them. This fact alone is huge: she’s directly comparing Yang to her former love-interest, she thinks of them in similar ways, even if she doesn’t realize it herself. Which is actually a thing people do.

Their semblances. Both are essentially absorbing and redirecting damage, and the writers themselves have said that’s a purposeful comparison, except Yang uses her pain to become stronger while Adam just bottles it up, not feeling it, before releasing it all in one hateful blow.

Both are forced to deal with Blake leaving them unexpectedly, except Blake left Yang because she loved her, while she left Adam because she no longer could.

Both have anger issues that worry Blake at some point, but Blake chooses to believe in Yang, unlike what happened with Adam.

Yang and Ilia, Yang and Sun:

Look no further than Alone Together for Yang and Ilia. They’re paralleled in the episode pretty heavily, with both getting pinkish eyes over her, both showing how they’ve handled her abandoning them, and both getting extremely real with their confessions over how Blake makes/made them feel.

Sun himself talks about how they feel the same way in regards to protecting Blake. Sun - who we know 100% has romantic feelings for Blake - says this: "I’d do it all again if it meant protecting you. And I can promise Yang would say the same.” He knows they feel the same way about her. Besides that they’re both blonde brawlers who show some chest, have gloves/bracers/whatever, are/can be pretty laid back, and are associated with the sun. Again, similarities should be clear.

Bumblebee and Arkos:

Honestly, I had never seen this myself until it was pointed out to me, so it’s much more fitting that I just quote Allison.

From her post (I once again encourage you to read the whole thing, it’s very relevant):

You remember how I mentioned that Blake and Yang’s relationship is not like the other relationships in Team RWBY (Ruby and Weiss’s relationship included)? Because there’s another relationship in this show it’s a lot like. A relationship with confirmed romantic interest that gets a fair bit of on-screen development in the first three volumes, even. I’m going to show as much as possible as opposed to a bunch of telling, because this shit must be seen to be believed.

Going in chronological order, and also weaker to stronger, on dialogue parallels:

Bumbleby and then Arkos in the Emerald Forest.

Arkos, in a scene with an intimate setting with romantic lighting in which Jaune discloses a shameful personal secret to Pyrrha.

Bumbleby, in a scene with an intimate setting with romantic lighting in which Yang discloses a shameful personal secret to Blake.

Bumbleby, in a scene where Yang tries to reassure Blake.

Arkos, in a scene where Jaune tries to reassure Pyrrha.

And some parallels that aren’t dialogue per se: In what relationship in the V2 dance arc do we see a blond hunter having a heart-to-heart with their partner (one, two, one partner making a deniable expression of interest in going to the dance with the other (one, two), and then the blonde cheering up their partner by donning a white dress and dancing with her despite not officially being her date (one, two)?

Depicted: the answer. Both of them.

I also had a Blcksn shipper tell me once that Yang can’t be interested in Blake because she let Blcksn happen right in front of her at the dance (I like the way she stomps off in those heels). And I’m thinking, “You mean like how if Pyrrha were interested in Jaune, she totally wouldn’t have coached him on how to ask Weiss out?”

And then of course there’s this blatant juxtaposition in 3.11, which I dare you to unsee now.

Seriously though, the big moments for Arkos/Bees come at the same times. It starts with V2C6/C7, then the first half of V3C8, the end of V3C11, and the beginning of V3C12. Jaunedice is the only odd moment out here, otherwise it’s consistent. Pyrrha and Blake both deliberately hunt down and choose their partner in Volume 1, both believe they find the relic at the same time… etc. The similarities are hard to ignore.

Yang and Blake, Beauty and the Beast:

'Beauty’ and 'Beast’ can be used interchangeably with Blake and Yang. Blake has labels assigned to her from birth (her last name, Belladonna and the fact that she’s a faunus) while Yang has physical traits (she’s a beauty and referred to as such in RLR, and her semblance is essentially beast mode) that signify both of them as both characters. And Adam fits in neatly as Gaston.

Here’s a link to Chained Prometheus’s post on the matter. He’s legitimately very well-versed on Beauty and the Beast, his opinion here is very worthwhile.

From Allison: 

Yang, who’s loathed worldwide as of 3.6 and misshapen as of the end of this very scene and generally paid out the nose for her short temper this volume, introduces herself with a roar, attacks a white-fanged enemy in defence of Belle/Blake, gets her right arm fucked up, passes out from shock, and has to be rescued and hauled to safety by Belle/Blake at the end of the scene.

#4. Ecl/ipse

So I’ve gone back and forth on Ecl/ipse (which is Sun/Blake, to be clear, I just come from a part of the fndm where Ecl/ipse is the dominant name) a lot in the last two years. From “It’s definitely going to happen” to “It’s never going to happen” to somewhere in the middle, to where I am now (No hate btw, and I mean that seriously. This is just something I have to address, because for Bumblebee to happen, Ecl/ipse can’t).

Which is… it’s probably not going to happen. I think it’s pretty simple as to why:

If it were going to happen, it already would have. Blake and Sun had two volumes where they spent the majority of their time together; from a storytelling standpoint this is the ideal time to develop their dynamic into a relationship. There’s no better opportunity, really. Especially since Sun has always been a stand-in for her team, a way to push her back towards them, and he’s never been relevant when that’s not necessary. If you don’t believe me, look at how he’s first introduced when she runs away in V1 and how he’s barely a presence in V2 (excepting the one episode where she’s apart from her team, of course) or especially V3. In V6, she (and the show) most likely just doesn’t have time for him, the same way she (and the show) didn’t have time for him in V2/V3. She’s back with her team, what further purpose does he serve? The answer is no purpose, really, because it’s not like he’s going to Atlas (because why would he), so he’ll likely be out of the story for the next few years. Basically they had their chance to make it happen and they didn’t. They had their chance to set it up more explicitly in V5 and they instead focused primarily on Blake’s and Ilia’s relationship.

Look at V4 and V5. In V4 (specifically Chapter 3), Sun is obtrusive and flirty and Blake really doesn’t like it. She’s impatient with him, she even slaps him three times, and generally she’s just not having it. But he gets the hint, he actually backs off in V5. And their interactions are far more positive accordingly. I think Sun realizes by V5 that it’s not going to happen, so he doesn’t end up flirting - at all - in V5, which is unique when compared to literally every other volume. In fact, I think he realized it back in the V3 finale, he was just sort of in denial for most of V4 before coming to accept it in the latter half. And that’s why he pushed Blake towards Yang in the V5 finale. He knows (this is admittedly speculative, but yeah Sun is low-key a bee shipper imo).

y8ay8a also explains the actual faults of the ship pretty well.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There is a lot of evidence towards Bumblebee. Even if you’re not looking for it, you’ll see signs of it. I did. Allison did, too. Both of us weren’t really into shipping in general or bees specifically until we saw Volume 3 Chapter 11. And once I started looking for it… there’s just much pointing to it. Which is why I wrote this post. As a guide for anyone who wants to know whether this ship is actually realistic.

[comeonthinkers]

Getting Back to It

While expected, it’s kind of crazy to log back onto this blog after forgetting about it for a while and realizing that the last time I posted here I had never heard of Coronavirus, or more particularly, the variant SARS-CoV-2. 

Since then, it seems as though everything and nothing have come to rise, percolate, boil over, and evaporate, and leave behind the sticky, splotchy residue of unrest, and perhaps more frustratingly, the ever-consuming mantle of simply soldiering on. Bills don’t stop needing to be paid, and projects don’t stop coming through the pipe. We still need art and entertainment and stories to keep us engaged and encouraged... so we continue to create. 

I’ve been a little extra pensive lately; my latest project is proofing a textbook that would have been appropriate reading for my graduate school program: one that I quit because of my college’s inability to successfully adapt to the pandemic. As I listen to the copy of the book, each sentence is another reminder of the hypocrisy of the program, which proposed to teach the importance of innovative communication and leadership, yet failed to innovate its own procedures when provided with the perfect opportunity in which to do so. Instead, it demanded the same commitment of its students while providing a fraction of the value at a compromised timeline, which apparently isn’t even completed yet, despite being scheduled to end back in May.

All in all, I’m glad I abandoned ship when I saw the writing on the wall. It did actually help me focus more on my business, and less on... well, things that didn’t really matter as much. I discovered a lot about myself in the program, and I met some great folks there. It wasn’t time wasted. 

But it was time shared with a shake-up that altered my life, and I’m not sure if my brain has officially caught up to it all. 

Supposedly, 28 is a big year of change for a lot of folks- one that brings with it the (occasionally explosive) conclusion to many eras of one’s life: and for me this was no different. I, in essence, gave up live event production in favor of studio work (although I will still mix a concert from time to time), bought a house with my husband, adopted my first puppy, discovered some major health diagnoses that have kickstarted a new vision of myself, and moved to the country, which, in itself, has brought with it a few new identities that we have chosen to embrace. Farmers, landscapers, DIY-ers, dreamers... 

Well, I suppose we’ve always been dreamers.

Homeowners.

Business owners. Creatives. Producers. 

Yeah. All of that.

To say I’ve been adjusting to being busy wouldn’t be entirely accurate. I’ve been busy most of my life, with that odd exception of April-July of 2020, where I was strangely afloat on a wave of suspense and anti-productivity, having been forced into a state of arrested development... and eager to find a way out. But also, just as strangely... not.

Covid lifted a veil for a lot of us in that way, I think. We were tired. We’re still tired. I feel as though this past year I’ve been catching up on decades of lost sleep and personal work that I set aside for other aspirations over the course of my life. And while on one hand, I’m benefitting now from the efforts of the last two decades: the acting classes, the college education, the studio investments, the financial investments... on the other, I’m breaking down my own understanding of the outside expectations I’ve sought to meet over the years. I’m questioning so much about myself, the world, my place within it. My generation’s place within it. 

The thunderstorms have been unyielding this season. Andy and I shake our heads as the winds rip apart our neighbors’ yards, while we sit relatively unscathed... We don’t ask if we’re next. We just take the precautions we know to take, and prepare for tomorrow. 

I need an outlet for when I find it hard to focus. I’ve missed my daily journaling, and so I’ve returned once again. Grateful to find that this, too, still stands.