#anyway this is kind of a rambly explanation I hope you understand what I’m trying to say

[i-want-it-thaaat-way]

Okay here’s something I noticed about Crosshair and Omega’s relationship, and why I think it was so easy for Crosshair to grow attached to her.

Basically- he says that loyalty is something that means a lot to him, and Omega is the ONE person who never EVER gave up on him.

All the way back in the very first episode even- they’re sitting in a containment cell and Omega says to him: “I know what you’re going to do, but please don’t.” His response is simply, “what do you know?” To which she says, “I know it’s not your fault.” The others were quick to wonder why he would turn on them, Omega knew he didn’t have a choice.

During Kamino Lost- after Crosshair doesn’t take their offer, Omega’s the only one who turns back to him. “You’re still their brother, Crosshair. You’re my brother too.”

And on Tantiss- he would dismiss her, tell her not to bother talking to him, but she doesn’t stop. She refuses to escape without him, no matter what he tells her to do or says to dissuade her, she won’t leave him behind.

The rest of the batch gave him a chance- they wanted him back- but they left him behind, even if it was Crosshair’s choice to stay. Omega wouldn’t give up on him, no matter what, even at the risk of her own safety and only chance to escape.

She never gave up on him. Even when he felt like he wasn’t worth it.

[vendetta-if]

Please don’t take this the wrong way, because I still think you’re writing is incredible and I look forward to every update, but am I the only one who finds Takeshi incredibly weird? Like he’s got a wife and 3 kids and yet he’s still pining over my dad who’s been dead for years now. It’s time to move on dude, come on.

If he was younger and single then I’d understand, but the way it comes off, to me at least, is pretty emotionally unfaithful. It reads like Takeshi views Viktor as “the one who got away” which is kind of a shitty attitude to have when you’re married with kids. We haven’t even met Rins mom yet and I already feel bad for her lol, this whole situation is uncomfortable.

Anyways, sorry for my rambling and if you got offended I really do apologize, I wasn’t trying to be mean. Good luck on your future writing!

I appreciate you being polite when writing this and don’t worry, I’m not offended 😁 I have talked a little bit more about him and his feelings for Viktor and about his marriage with Azami in other asks, but I realize that some of them, I answered like in the early days of this blog being up (boy, time sure does fly because it feels like yesterday to me 😭) and not everyone will have read all of the related asks.

So, everything is a lil bit more complicated for Takashi than what it might seem like on the surface, and of course, I can’t really put all of this history and backstory in the main story because it’s not focused on Takashi, or Rin, or the Aikawa, and thus, I understand why some people end up seeing Takashi in a worse light. This is, of course, not to say that he is perfect. I feel like no one in my story is perfect, even Viktor himself, and I like to keep it that way. But I hope my long-winded explanation in this post will help you get a clearer picture on Takashi and his complicated love life 😭.

And right now in the story, I’ll say that he has actually moved on from Viktor. Sure he still remembers and mourns him around the anniversary of his death, and talking about Viktor (and Yvette) is still a sore spot for him, but as they say, you don’t really forget your first love. Also, he has fixed his relationship with Azami (thus their decision to have the twins) by the time of the main story and they’re at their best right now and I’ll explain more in details below the cut.

I’ll put it under the cut because it’s going to be a long one as I try to summarize Takashi’s and Azami’s history together and some additional lore stuff for those who are interested.

For starter, his marriage to Azami was an arranged one that both of them didn’t really have any say in it and it doesn’t help that both of them didn’t even have time to properly get to know each other by the time they got married. They were also pretty young (around early to mid 20s perhaps? I don’t have my notes open right now).

It was a… politically strategic wedding that Takashi’s father and Azami’s maternal grandfather arranged.

And additional info since I don’t think I have mentioned this anywhere actually, but Azami’s maternal side of family is a Yakuza clan/family back in Japan and by establishing some kind of family relationship with the Aikawas—who focuses their businesses in the US—they hope to keep the door open for possibilities of expanding their own business abroad in the US through the Aikawas. They haven’t really done that, but it’s nice to already have and secure the connection. And vice versa for the Aikawas if they wanna do some business in Japan.

It doesn’t help that Viktor was literally Takashi’s first love and that they’ve known each other since they were kids. So, by the time of his marriage, Takashi didn’t really have enough time to kind of, let go or grow out of his feelings for his first love and he was basically getting married to a stranger.

But to think that this means that he automatically becomes an emotionally distant husband and father is wrong. He spent time talking and hanging out with Azami (mostly initiating them first because Azami is the more introverted and reserved one in their relationship), trying to build a relationship—that should’ve been built naturally in normal marriages—with his wife. It did end up being more like a platonic relationship at first than a romantic one, but still, Azami appreciated that.

He’s also a good, caring, and warm dad for Rin and he did take care of Rin as much as Azami did. I’ve said this before in another ask, but when she got married to what is basically a stranger, Azami expected the worse and Takashi was a very pleasant surprise for her.

I think along the way, Azami fell in love with him for real first, but the fact that Takashi still saw her more of a platonic partner and still had romantic feelings for Viktor at the time… It did put a strain on their marriage.

But both of them didn’t really give up on their marriage and even though it took years, they slowly work on their relationship. It was not an instant progress but over time, Takashi ends up falling in love with Azami as well and that’s also the reason why they had the twins like more than a decade after they had Rin (The twins are still very young in the story right now).

Rin was born because of both of their families’ pressure and expectation, but having the twins is the decision that Takashi and Azami made themselves out of love.

While his feelings for Viktor is still there somewhere in the background, it’s waay weaker and fainter than when he was younger. Right now in the story, I would say he has moved on, although he still remembers his first love occasionally, especially around the time of his death. After all, they say that you can’t really forget your first love.

But yeah, in the story currently, his relationship with his wife is at its best and he’s living happily with his family.

And while a part of his motivation to get Rin to marry MC is in part to kind of fulfilling an impossible dream of his, it is also just for… practical reasons. The fact is that the Aikawas have a little bit more to gain by tying the Morozovs in an alliance based on blood ties than the Morozovs do. The Morozovs have the stronger manpower and raw force/strength and nowadays, they have decent connections too.

I mentioned this before in the past ask about the two families’ history, but their alliance started out because the Aikawas were having a pretty rough time protecting their turf from the other criminal groups and families back in New York. They mostly have power by accumulating and brokering information and connections, but they’re a bit lacking in like raw force and power, and that’s where Grandpa Morozov saw the opportunity for alliance and went to talk with Takashi’s father. And the rest we know how it plays out.

So, yeah… I think that’s all I have to say in this post and I’ll definitely be referring to this post again if I ever get similar asks. I don’t know whether it helps you understand Takashi a little bit more or not, but I do hope it’s not as black and white as it once was 😅

[tllgrrl]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @missamyshay !! Sorry for the delay. Some of these questions were hard to answer, so I ran away, then came back, and ran away, and I apologize for the ramblings.

If anyone has any questions/asks, feel free to…well…ask.

* * * * *

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

70 (Note: Many, of them well under 1K words and one shots. When something starts on Tumblr, it pretty much also goes over to AO3. Even drabbles.)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

163,518

3. What Fandoms do you write for?

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier - Marvel Cinematic Universe

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. One Quarter of a Year, 2. Language Lessons, 3. Welcome Home (the sequel to One Quarter of a Year), 4. A Front Yard Situation, 5. Bucky, Cass, and the King of Mardi Gras

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. I don’t always immediately respond, but I eventually do. Why respond? Because I’m already surprised that anyone reads a thing I wrote. No one is required to leave a comment. They can read and go on to the next, and they do. But if someone reads something I wrote, and wants to tell me that something about it made them want to tell me about it what they liked or what touched them and/or ask a question, or in one case complain about it? It’s an amazing thing to me, so much so that a comment always sends me back to read WTF I could have possibly written that made someone feel this.

6. What is a fic you write with the angstiest ending?

I haven’t written one with an angsty ending. Yet.

7. What’s the fic you write with the happiest ending?

Hmmm…lemme think…

They’re all pretty happy, I think, but the most hopeful, heartfelt ending I think is at the end of Ndinawe when Sarah walks out of the therapist’s office building after her first ever session post-Snap/post-Return, and finds Bucky waiting for her with a little bunch of flowers.

I will leave it to readers to tell me what they think my happiest ending would be.

8. Do you get hate on fics.

There’s that one time someone liked, but complained about 6 words (2 short phrases) in a 300 word ficlet/triple drabble where Sarah and Bucky are in a very quiet and intimate moment, and he says something to her in isiXhosa, which we know he speaks. Then he says it in English, and then in Kreyol, which, in my headcanon, Sarah learned from her parents, who spoke Haitian Creole (Darlene’s family) and Louisiana Creole (Paul’s family). Because Louisiana.

This person was annoyed and couldn’t understand why anything other than English was being spoken even though the translation is in the story and a little Glossary is in the notes..

And when I tried to explain why I chose that and that in canon, Bucky and Sam both speak more than one language, the person commented back that didn’t want to read an explanation…which is why I wrote one anyway.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I write erotica. To my mind, smut is different. And I don’t like the word “smut’. Like how some people don’t like the word “moist”.

I write two middle-aged grownup adult people for whom Communication is important. Even if things are difficult or awkward, they still at least try.

Also, they’re perfectly able and willing to grab a Quickie, and I’ve written at least one Quickie, but in my stories so far, like to take their time when they have the opportunity. Someone once described it as making love “like adults: long, slow, luxurious”.

I think that’s the kind I write.

Maybe that didn’t describe the kind of “smut” I write. If anyone can describe it to me, please do!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not yet. But I do have something in mind.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of and I hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of, but I would actually like to try to do that myself with help from Google Translate, Language Tutorials on YouTube, and the assistance of native speakers.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes!! Bucky, Cass, and the King of Mardi Gras co-written with The @btwxsixesandsevens. The Paul & Darlene Ship Logs is a A Talk Like a Pirate Day day-long speed write, where @btwxsixesandsevens, wrote Bucky’s Journal entries and I wrote Captain Sarah Wilson’s personal ship logs. And also Snitches which was born from a funny “what would happen if” conversation with @shellyac75. I asked if I could embellish it, stretched it out and make a fic, and was given permission to play.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Bucky Barnes & Sarah Wilson (aka SarahBucky or BuckySarah) from the minute Bucky made it a point to let Sarah know that he was there, and he saw her. And she saw him, right back.

That having been said, if I’d known, when I was a kid, that I could make up my own stories about characters I liked, there is one ship that I would have filled my PeeChee notebooks with: Lt. Nyota Uhura & Spock. Yes, long before JJ Abrams made them a thing, I, in my tweeny brain, felt like something was possible there with those two. Nurse Chapel be damned.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don’t have one of those. I have a couple of Finished For Now stories that I have plans to revisit and continue, though. They’re not WIPs though. Plus, I’d never not finish a story.

16. What are your writing strengths.

Beats me. Someone who knows about writing techniques will have to tell me. I have been told that when reading my stories, a reader can see where they are and what’s happening.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I overthink and I think I get in the weeds when I write. I’m hyper critical, so I find fault with everything I write. Someone else will have to tell me what my weaknesses are in my writing. I know what they are in my process.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic.

(See #12j I’m not afraid of it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The only fandom I’ve written for: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

That having been said, I may have inadvertently written a drabble/ficlet/thing as an answer to a question that was posed in a Firefly forum on Ravelry (a multi-use community website for knitters and crocheters) probably 20 years ago. People enjoyed it and one commenter said I should write fan fiction, which, at the time, I thought was ridiculous. If I can find it, I may post it on AO3 for shiggles, though the show is long gone. (I know that there are still Browncoats around.)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written.

This is a really hard question because I find fault with every thing I’ve written. Every single thing. And my answer can change sometimes a couple of times during the span of a day!

I’d rather people tell me their favourite, and why, (Soft suggestion: Please feel free!!) but if I had to pick one today right now:

One Quarter of a Year / Welcome Home

I consider these two a single story that has yet to be joined on AO3.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Whew.

I am soft tagging @khululekile , @philtstone , @btwxsixesandsevens , @spinachgarden, @sarifinasnightmare and anyone who wants to jump in and play. Come on in! (If you’ve already been tagged, apologies! )

[awlfan]

A Wonderful Life Daryl/Farmer: Works In Progress

(These stories will be uploaded on their own with proper titles when they are absolutely complete.) Untitled Daryl/Melody 1

Takakura had told Melody of the scientist in the valley, but she had yet to meet him. She had no idea what he looked like or what he was like, All Takakura had informed her of was that it was best not to ask about his experiments… Why? She gave a knock on the metal door and waited a few moments for a response… There was none. Placing her ear to the door, she could hear footsteps and electronic buzzing. “Hello?” she spoke hesitantly… Nothing. He was in there, she was sure. “...Hello,” she uttered quietly as she opened the door. Upon peeking inside, she saw a shorter man with wild black hair pacing back and forth. His lab coat was tattered and dirty with mismatched socks and shoes that were falling apart. His tie was loose while part of his shirt was untucked. The man clearly didn’t put much value in his appearance, at least, not in the moment. Not that such a thing mattered to her. He was probably too busy to focus on aesthetics anyway. He didn’t even notice her, after all. “Hello?” she finally spoke up again, managing to get his attention. “Hm?!” the scientist turned to face her with wide eyes. “Oh… you’re that new farmer.” “Melody,” she nodded. “I’m trying to talk to everyone in the Valley at least once.” “Daryl. Well, you’ve spoken with me,” he stated bluntly. “If that’s all you’re here for, you can leave now. I’m thinking.” Melody slumped and rubbed the back of her neck. “I was actually hoping to talk to you a little more than that. What kind of science do you practice?” Daryl opened his mouth to tell her he had no time, but stopped himself. “What science do I practice?” he repeated, blinking. Melody nodded. “I primarily focus on thermodynamics, but I take interest in all sciences. I am hoping to find more effective methods for energy storage and acquisition. It’s really quite fascinating,” he informed. “Sounds like it!” Melody chirped. Daryl blinked, dumbfounded that she had any sort of interest. “...But you’re a farmer.” “Yes?” “Not a scientist.” “I can still find things interesting even if I don’t specialize in them,” she chuckled. Daryl slowly nodded. “So you would be interested in my experiments?”

“In learning about them, sure.” Oops. Takakura said not to ask… Hopefully his experiments weren’t too mean to animals or anyth- Daryl visibly lit up and confidently rambled about his latest trek into water based energy, going into vivid detail and using a great deal of technical jargon and long scientific words. Melody didn’t understand the entirety of what Daryl was talking about, but thought she got the gist. Is this why Takakura said not to ask him about his experiments; his explanations were complicated? Or perhaps Daryl talked too much for his liking? Takakura seemed like more of the quiet type, after all… Whatever the reason, she’d have to ask again. Daryl seemed so happy to share his work and Melody just couldn’t deny him that. Though she didn’t fully understand, Melody nodded her head as she listened, but there was something that made her tilt her head. Her confusion had nothing to do with what he was saying, but rather the growling of his stomach and his apparent obliviousness to it. “Are you hungry?” Melody asked during a lull in his ramble. “Hm? Oh, yes. I have to strain my food budget it I’m to make progress in my research,” he casually remarked before pointing to his chalkboard. “And if you take this equation into account-” “Do you have any food allergies or intolerances?” Daryl bristled at being interrupted. “No. Now, if you look at the equation here…” From that point on, Melody partially tuned Daryl out. She hadn’t intended to, but her mind was wandering elsewhere. “Do you mind if we continue this another time?” she asked, causing Daryl’s smile to fall into a more neutral expression. She must have grown bored, he reasoned. “You can leave,” he permitted. “It’s best I get back to work anyway.” Melody nodded and headed out, offering a, “Bye, Daryl,” before closing the door behind her. Daryl didn’t think much of her departure, managing to forget about her mere minutes later as he dove back into his work. It wasn’t until he heard a loud knock on his door that the thought of a visitor crossed his mind again. He didn’t need this. “I’m busy,” he shouted to whoever was waiting outside his door. “I have food,” a woman’s voice spoke up.

Food? The scientist dropped what he was doing to rush to the door and open it. “Is it free? Speak up!” Melody started a bit, but nodded and handed him a paper bag. “It’s not much, just a sandwich and apple, but my kitchen isn’t fully together yet.” “I’ll take it,” Daryl declared, taking the bag and looking inside. “It’s sufficient.” “I’ll try to get you something better when my kitchen is properly stocked,” Melody offered sheepishly. Daryl didn’t stop to think why this farmer was offering him food in the first place, simply removing the sandwich from the bag and taking a bite. He paused with wide eyes, causing Melody to worry. “Are you okay?” “It’s… delicious!” Daryl announced before hastily taking another bite. “Oh,” Melody sighed in relief. “I’m glad. I didn’t know your food preferences, so I just made it the way I like it. That’s what my kitchen has in it, after all.” Daryl simply nodded, wolfing down the sandwich. “Well, I should probably leave you be to eat,” the farmer chuckled awkwardly.” “Yu welgum ba,” Daryl called after with stuffed cheeks. “What?” A few more chews and a swallow later, he was able to speak properly. “I said, ‘You’re welcome back,’… provided I am not too busy.” Oh? She certainly hadn’t expected that! She smiled widely and nodded. “I’ll take you up on that sometime! For now, enjoy your meal,” she waved and headed back towards her farm.

Untitled Daryl/Melody 2

“Well, I usually try to avoid gossip…” Gustafa began, chatting with Molly in the Bluebird Cafe. “Oh?” the blonde’s eyebrows rose, leaving over the counter to better hear the musician’s juicy details. “Buuut?” “This is more of a hopeful speculation,” he chuckled a bit. “I don’t know anything for sure, but I think someone in the Valley has fallen in love.” Molly squealed in excitement. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Is it you?” Gustafa laughed nervously. “No, no. I doubt I’ll ever settle down, man. I feel so much love for everyone and everything. That’s enough for me.” “Well, I suppose you wouldn’t be telling me if it was you,” Molly mused aloud. “So, who is it? Dish!” “Ha ha. Well, okay. Just don’t quote me. I think Melody has a crush on someone.” Another squeal from Molly. “On who?!” “I don’t know, but she just seems so happy now. It’s like she has a whole new love of life. Her eyes practically sparkle and she’s always asking me to play love songs when she visits.” “Oooo,” Molly cooed. “We’ll have to investigate.” “No, no,” Gustafa pulled his hat down. “Let’s not stick our noses where they don’t belong.” “I guess I’ll just have to ask someone else,” she sighed. “And Melody is usually the one I’d go to for something like this…” “Melody gossips?” Gustafa asked in disbelief. “Well, not really,” Molly admitted. “But she does listen to me speculate.” “Don’t tell her I said anything, okay? I don’t want her cross with me.” “Cross my heart,” Molly gestured. “Interesting…” Daryl muttered to himself from just outside the Bluebird Cafe. He hadn’t been planning to eavesdrop, but Molly’s squeal caught his attention and Melody’s name piqued his interest. He’d need to investigate. “I need your help with something,” Daryl announced when the farmer opened her door. “Daryl? Oh, uh, I’ll help however I can? I’m not busy right now.” “Good. Come with me.” The scientist didn’t wait for a response before speed walking to his lab, assuming she would follow. “What’s going on?” Melody asked as they arrived at his lab. “I’ve never seen you move so fast.”

“I must strike while the iron is hot!” Daryl explained, pulling out a blood pressure cuff. “I need to examine you.” “What?!” she squawked. “Oh, calm down. I need stable readings for this.” “Sorry, sorry,” Melody took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves, despite her confusion. “You are a healthy young woman with no underlying health conditions, is that correct?” Daryl asked as he placed the cuff on her arm and donned a stethoscope. “I think so? But what does that have to do with-” “Shh!” the scientist shushed, tightening the cuff around her arm as he listened. Melody stayed quiet as he got his reading, removing the cuff and jotting down the result. “Open,” Daryl held out an oral thermometer. Melody did as instructed and placing the thermometer under her tongue. Keeping her mouth shut, she hoped Daryl would explain himself. “I need to get a baseline before we continue. You have a unique mental state I wish to study further.” “What do you mean?” she asked after the thermometer beeped. “Ninety-eight point six,” Daryl read aloud as he took the thermometer back and disposed of the cover. “I’ll tell you in a moment. I first want to observe how you are when your mental state is unaltered.” “Unaltered? Are you going to drug me?!” “Of course not!” he scoffed. “You are the one altering your own mental state and I will explain momentarily.” Well, that was a relief… sort of. “Now, I want you to repeat after me. How, now, brown, cow.” “How, now, brown, cow.” “What direction is north?” “Up.” “South?” “Down.”

“East? West?” “Right. Left.” “Very good,” Daryl nodded. “Take a deep breath and calm any nerves you have.” Melody did as instructed, closing her eyes and allowing him to check her heartbeat. “All seems normal. Just a few more tests.” “Could you please tell me what’s going on?” Melody whined. Daryl huffed. “Very well. Simply remove your gloves and show me the palms of your hands and I will explain.” Melody rolled her eyes, getting frustrated with the whole situation, and did as instructed. “Looks normal. Very well,” he jotted something down before looking back to her. “I want to see the effects of infatuation on the human body in real time.” “What?! Who said anything about me being infatuated?” “I have my sources,” Daryl stated simply. “Is it true?” “Is what true?” she played dumb. What all did Daryl know already? “That you are experiencing a crush on someone. I don’t need to know who. Just a yes or no answer. Are you infatuated with someone right now?” Oh, good, he didn’t know everything… Averting her gaze, she nodded, squeaking out a simple, “Yes.” “Perfect,” Daryl grinned. “Then the tests can begin!” “What kind of tests?” “Nothing too difficult, I would hope. I simply want you to picture the object of your affection in your mind. Again, I do not need to know who.” Melody nodded and did as instructed… not difficult when he was standing right there. “Alright. Now let me look you over. Hmm…” Daryl looked her directly in the eyes, narrowing his own and creasing his brows. “Wow! Your pupils dilated from thought alone!” he announced with glee. “Fascinating! I can only imagine how you would react if your crush was right here!”

“Yeah. Ah ha haaa…” Melody tried to laugh off the idea. “And you’ve become flushed already!” Daryl cheered. “Is it really that obvious?” Melody folded her arms and averted her gaze, only turning a deeper scarlet. “It is! Wa-hoo!” he clapped. “You’re doing great! I’m getting great information from this!” The farmer tried not to smile at that, she really did. But getting Daryl’s approval caused her to flash those pearly whites. “Glad to be of assistance,” she squeaked. “And your speech has become affected! Can you still speak coherently? What words did I have you repeat earlier?” Oh darn it! What was it?! It was so easy! “U-um… You.. Y-you told me to repeat… words that rhyme?” “Stuttering and memory issues. Interesting… Let’s get your blood pressure again.” Melody simply nodded, trying to calm herself. That probably went against what Daryl wanted, but she was failing anyway. “Escalated; just as expected!” “Mm-hm,” she squeaked. “Onto your heart rate. We’ll see if that picked up too.” As Daryl placed the stethoscope to her chest, Melody couldn’t stop her heart from fluttering further. Not only was she flustered already, but he was so close to her… listening to her heart beat for him… even if he didn’t know. “That’s sky rocketed! My goodness; you’re a textbook case! Hang on…. Hold your palms out.” Melody nodded quietly and held out her trembling hands. “Shaking and sweaty,” he mused aloud. “Just how uncontrollable are the tremors?” Taking her hands in his own, he asked, “Can I keep them steady?” Oh, goddess… He was holding her hands! It felt… calming, actually. Daryl looked at her in befuddlement. “Hm? You seem… more stable now. I didn’t think physical intervention would stop the shaking so effectively."

He took his hands off hers and observed. They were certainly less shaky. “Interesting,” Daryl scribbled down his thoughts. “You seem to be calming down again. Did you stop thinking about the object of your affection?” “No,” she responded with a dreamy smile, “Fascinating… You are still quite red though. Are you feeling overheated?” “Very,” Melody fanned herself with her hand. “This is… rather exhausting… but not necessarily bad.” “Oh?” Daryl questioned as he wet a towel under the sink. “What does it feel like?” “It’s like-” she paused, looking at the towel he’d placed in her hand. “...You’re not fighting an infection, so it shouldn’t harm anything if you cool down.” “Oh, thank you,” Melody placed the towel to her face, taking a deep breath and allowing the cooler temperature to soothe her. “That was sweet of you.” “...What?” Daryl asked, freezing in place. “I said that was sweet of you?” Melody repeated, opening her eyes. Daryl looked… almost frightened… like he didn’t understand or know what to do. “What do-” he cleared his throat, “What do you mean?” Melody blinked and cocked her head, doing her best to explain. “You asked how I was feeling without provocation, then helped me feel better. You didn’t have to do that. It was selfless of you. And sweet.” “Oh,” he scratched his cheek, which he could swear felt warmer… “S-sor- I mean… You’re wel-” Why couldn’t he speak now? Oh-ho! Now look who was flustered! Rather than gloat, she simply smiled. “I think I know a little how to explain it. Take how you feel after my compliment.” “O-oh?” “You’ve gone a bit flushed,” she calmly remarked, borrowing his stethoscope and placing it to his chest. “And your heart is going a little fast, I think.” “I have? It is?” He scratched the back of his head.

She nodded. “But does it feel bad?” “N-no,” he stammered, averting his gaze. “I-it’s stressful… but I’m not upset you said that.” “Exactly!” she chirped. “That’s kind of what having a crush feels like! Flustered, but not bad.” “I’m not flustered,” he grumbled, folding his arms. “I’m a man of science. It would take a lot to rattle me. I’m fine.” Melody simply shrugged. “If you say so.” “I do,” Daryl huffed. Melody thought a moment before asking, “Do you have any more tests you want to do right now?” “No. No. I should have plenty of information to review with this.” “Then I should probably get out of your hair so you can get to work.” “Probably,” Daryl repeated. Melody nodded and gave him back the towel, heading out to allow Daryl to think about things. “See you soon,” she smiled and closed the door. “…” Daryl let out a sigh, not realizing he had been holding his breath. He looked at the towel in his hand then placed it to his face. Why did he feel hot so suddenly?

[kitkatscabinet]

Hi there! I’m new to the quarry fandom! I was wondering if you were still taking requests and if you were, if I could request some headcanons for what it would be like to date Dylan, and what kinda s/o he would look for? Gn reader preferably for our ladies and gentlemen simps! And more personality base rather than looks cuz he seems like the kinda guy to appreciate anyone regardless of shape, size, or color!

If you’re not comfortable writing that or aren’t taking requests that’s totally fine too! Thank you! I really enjoy your writing 👌🏻

ok so Dylan is one of my faves but this was honestly a little difficult to do cause I love him and Ryan together so I hope its ok. The Aussie in me jumped out a bit at some points too, so, sorry to all my Northern hemisphere readers.

What he looks for in a partner

Firstly his s/o has to be someone that takes a genuine interest or happily listens along to his ramblings/explanations. Even if its a topic his s/o knows nothing about/isn't interested he needs to know they'll always listen anyway and never feels like he's being a bother

ideally they can see past the witty front he puts up, and be able to determine when he's joking and when he isn't.

someone who's not too serious and understands why he can be so blase sometimes

While he's flirty from the get go it would take some serious effort for him to actually open up.

from his interactions with Ryan we know he does like the strong/mysterious kind but I can just as easily see him being with a more extroverted partner (like Kaitlyn or Jacob)

He definitely needs someone with at least a little bit of impulse control because otherwise, well he'll end up a hand down

What it's like to date Dylan

trying out random and new things all the time, I imagine him as someone that hyperfixates on things and likes to drag you along for the ride.

shit talking, when you and Dylan gossip it can become an all out hatefest but you'll always end it with 'but who are we to judge' as if that makes up for it.

Dylan becomes one of your 'biggest fans' watching you from afar whenever you do anything. you could be buttering bread and he'll be swinging his feet. The more open you are and reciprocate this energy the more you'll get back

Dylan will always be there to cheer you up from a bad day/mood he can tell without any words when you need comfort and quickly learns what you're most receptive to and what you hate.

He's very protective (I know everyone says this but I mean its literally canon) and if someone was seriously causing you any grief or talking behind your back and his words arent enough he probably would get into a fight that he knows he might lose (unless you tell him not to)

I'm inclined to think your dates tend more towards indoor/arcade/movie/cafe dates unless you're hardcore into hikes and shit and then he'll go along with you occasionally.

You definitely go ice skating once and he sucks, no grace, long arms desperately flapping around as he grabs on to you. If you suck too then it's even funnier and the both of you eat shit multiple times

dates to a shopping centre where you just go and walk around judging people. Frequenting Kmart and Target just to find the weirdest shit and making each other try on the most cooked outfits you can find.

He definitely has a tik tok and even if he hasn't posted before the two of you start making them together. But not the wholesome trends no. you two are up there slapping each other with tortillas.

You go to local fares/carnivals and just gorge yourselves on the food and he tries to win you something big and fails but you love whatever shitty little thing he gets you anyway.

This is kind of short but I'm still a little sick so I hope you all enjoy anyway

Taglist:

@laurakearnxy @wolfsquad @rainbows-dreams @dylanlenievy @kestisvrse @aaetherr69 @jjkk1m @g0th1ka @ghostverz @thebookbakery @qlqstqr @sheriff-hackett

[fueledbyapplepi]

Hii I was wondering if I could rq Mikey, Baji and Mitsuya with a gn! s/o who is the sole provider in their household? and the guys only find out because they saw their s/o while they were at work? but they didn't know they even had a job bc they kept it a secret? it's perfectly okay if you aren't up for this rq! I hope you have a good day/night!!

Given it All | Mikey, Baji, and Mitsuya

- The boys with an s/o who's a breadwinner of the family.

warnings: mentions of family problems

genre: fluff, angst

A/N: Writing this made me kind of emotional because I have friends who are the main providers for their family and I see them work very hard. This one's for all the independent and hardworking people out there <3

Mikey (Sano Manjiro)

Another day. Another one.

Mikey loves feeling your hands. They're soft and smooth against his calloused fingers. He'll feel the palms in your hands every moment he gets. He always felt like a baby being caressed by your soft hands.

But there seems to be a detail in your hands that he can't miss. Every time you two see each other, Mikey would notice the burns and red marks on your hands.

"Y/N, what happened to this?" he asked.

"Oh, it just got itchy again. You know, the usual," you replied, trying to brush off the topic.

It has always been like that. Each time that Mikey points it out, you always try to avoid the topic or reason out that it's just a scratch. And it's not like he's saying that you're a liar, he just knows that there's more to that than just a mere scratch.

Which is true.

You didn't really want to lie to your boyfriend. It's just that, it's something that it's hard for you to open up and talk about.

At a young age, you were forced to live by yourself. Your mother died at a young age, while your father was a drunkard - eventually getting out of the picture.

In order to provide for yourself, pay for rent and other fees necessary to make a living, you worked hard. Currently, you're working full-time at a family restaurant where you're assigned at cooking. Although this was a daily task for you, you never fail to get yourself burned from the boiling oil.

It wasn't an easy life especially living alone. But at least, you have your boyfriend by your side to get by.

Now that you're shift has finished, you were tasked to throw out the trash at the back before you leave.

As you were about to walk away from that alleyway, you heard a familiar voice.

"Y/N?"

Looking at the source, it was your beloved boyfriend with a questioning look on his face.

"Mikey? What are you doing here?" you asked, anxious about how you'll explain this to your boyfriend.

"I just finished beating up some guy," Mikey said as he pointed out to a dude who passed out on the further part of the alley. "How about you?", he continued as he looked at your uniform and an obvious face that's waiting for an answer.

You knew this day would come. You just didn't expect that it would be today.

Sighing, and taking deep breaths, you explained to Mikey your story and why you work here.

"Y/N, why didn't you tell me?" Mikey asked as he caressed your cheek.

"It's hard for me to talk about it. I'm sorry for not telling you," you said as you looked down.

"Hey, it's okay," Mikey said. "I have a better idea,"

"What?" you asked

"Why don't you just sell Dorayaki and I'll buy all of them every day. Then you'll be rich," Mikey said jokingly.

You looked at him with a deadpan expression.

"But seriously, live with us!" Mikey said with such a happy look on his face.

"Eh?" you asked confused.

"Live with me, Emma, and gramps! I'm sure they'll be happy to take you in, you're my s/o after all," Mikey said, "Plus, you wouldn't have to work this hard if you don't have to pay for rent," he continued.

Your heart felt like it's floating in the air. How can you have such an adorable and loving boyfriend?

"I love you, you know that?" you said.

"Thank you so much, Mikey,"

"It's nothing," your boyfriend said as he kissed your hands. "You're like family to them after all,"

Maybe, the true family you've been looking for was always been by your side.

Keisuke Baji

You sleep early but the bags under your eyes were noticeable for your boyfriend.

Baji always thought that it was weird that the eyebags under your eyes were evident. Not like it's a bad thing though. You're still beautiful as ever in his eyes.

It's just that you always tell him that you sleep at 8 in the evening. Yet here you are, looking like you pull an all-nighter every day.

Maybe it takes you hours before you actually go to sleep? That's possible. But what if you just don't want to spend the rest of the night with him? Is it possible that you're getting tired of him?

It's only been months since you've started dating, but Baji couldn't blame you if you get tired of him.

But it's not like you don't want to hang out with your boyfriend. Hell, who doesn't want to hang out with theirs and experience late-night dates and night rides right? Especially if it's with Baji.

It's just that, you don't have the luxury of spending the night with your boyfriend. Being the eldest of a family of four, you have to work and provide for the needs of your mother and your two younger siblings.

To help your family, you work two part-time jobs every night. One is being an employee at your local convenience store and the other is being a kitchen staff at a local pub. Two jobs might be heavy, and tiring for you, but it's what helps you and your family to get by.

Your boyfriend knew nothing of this. You know that Baji's a great guy, but you're afraid of embarrassing the 1st Division Captain of Toman, so you just try to hide it and make lame excuses.

Tonight's the usual night. Same excuse. Same job.

Currently, you're responsible for the counter at the store. It's past midnight, and you wish you can catch up to some sleep. But you know you can't since you'll be unable to get your minimum wage.

As you're looking at the countertop, someone suddenly handed Peyoung yakisoba.

"Baji's favorite" you smiled as you thought to yourself. Oh, how you miss your boyfriend.

"And that'll be 145 yen," you said as you look up at the customer.

Well, that was unexpected.

"Baji?" you said, seeing your boyfriend's face.

"Y/N? You work here," Baji said, with a confused look on his face.

"Sadly, yes," you said.

"Well, care to share this with me?" Baji said as he pointed out the Yakisoba.

"I have a 15-minute break. Sure," you agreed. Thinking now's the time to explain.

As you and Baji met at the small parking lot, you immediately explained.

"Look, Baji. I'm sorry for hiding this. I want you to know that I'm the breadwinner of the family that's why I can't hang out at night with you. I didn't tell you because I don't want to embarrass you," you rambled as you look anywhere but Baji.

"Embarrass me?" Baji said, walking closer to you.

"Y/N, I'll never be embarrassed at you. I'm proud of you, okay?" your boyfriend said, reassuring you. "I just wished you trusted me more,"

"I'm sorry, Baji," you whispered as you hug him. "I love you."

"Text me okay? I'll pick you up so that you won't have to walk," Baji said as he smiled at you.

"Thank you," you said, with tears threatening to fall.

"You're welcome," Baji said as he kissed your forehead, "Now, let's eat okay?" your boyfriend said, excitement laced in his voice as he opened the Peyoung yakisoba.

Mitsuya Takashi

You're a busy bee. That's for sure.

Whenever Mitsuya invites you on dates on the weekends, you weren't available because you're busy.

When he invites you to have dates after school, you always have to decline because again, you're busy.

He understands it though. Mitsuya knows that you have to study hard for your siblings and that you have to take care of them as well. As someone who always looks out for his younger sisters, Mitsuya knew that it can be hectic sometimes.

What he doesn't understand though is the fact that it's evident that you're trying to hide something from him. He's not that oblivious when it comes to you. Especially after dating you for months.

You're bothered with it too. As much as you love your boyfriend, you're embarrassed about the job you have. But it's not like you have any choice. The job pays well and is enough to make a living for you and your two younger brothers.

After school and on the weekends, it is true that you're busy. Busy with the maid and butler café that you work on.

It's embarrassing enough to be dressed like this. But being seen by the love of your life? That's a different level of shame.

Now that you finished with your shift, you felt the exhaustion on your body. Standing and serving customers isn't a joke anyway. You didn't even bother to change out of your uniform. You just wore a hoodie over it, not caring about the frills of the clothes peaking underneath.

As you were walking home, you heard the familiar sound of an engine. Turning around, you saw a familiar face.

"Ehhh? Y/N?" Mitsuya said, stopping his motor beside you.

"What are you doing?" he continued, eyeing your clothes and looking at you as if he's waiting for an explanation.

"Mitsuya, I can explain," you said as your face reddened from embarrassment.

"Hmmm, I'm listening," your boyfriend said with an unreadable expression.

"Well, uhm, you see, I work at this café that requires us to dress like this," you said as you pointed out to your clothes, "But I don't do anything bad though! It's just we dress like this," you further explained, waving your hands.

"You look cute," Mitsuya smiled "I kind of hoped you just told me sooner. I would've made you some clothes,"

"Huh? You're not mad?" you said, surprised.

"How could I be? My s/o's working hard. Plus, I get to see you in cute clothes. What's there to be mad of?" Mitsuya said as he smiled at you.

"Baby, I love you," you said as you looked at your boyfriend with adoration.

"I love you too. But take me there someday okay?" Mitsuya replied grinning.

You just nodded and blushed at the idea.

[midnight-in-town]

helloooo! many thanks for recommending about the witch and the beast, the art is just goooorgeous and i love guideau nd ashaf. speaking of which i wanted your opinion bc i want to know what you think about ashafs "i want to teach you what love is"? hehe smh i ship them bc i love how the way they act with each other can be seen as flirty but i think it's very bold of ashaf to say that so what do you think is intended behind these words? many thanks, love your blog xx

Hey Anon! Aww, thanks for giving this series a try! It's way too underrated and deserves a bigger fandom!! :))

Anyway, I’m going to ramble a bit here but about this scene:  

As much as I agree with you that a lot of Ashaf and Guideau’s interactions border on innuendo on purpose (and I love it, damn Sensei), I honestly think that Ashaf’s “lesson” might be in relation to...

...Guideau breaking the curse. I mean, we all know that the second method will never work, considering that Angela seems completely unhinged and proved to be enjoying the situation she put Guideau in very much. Just like we know that the third method (a witch’s kiss) is temporary, so that only leaves the first method which, in my opinion, could be a metaphor about finding love?

You know, as in, loving someone who loves you back as who you truly are, thus breaking the curse? This could be Ashaf’s ultimate goal that he addresses in this scene. ¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯

Not gonna lie though, Ashaf is very mysterious, even more so than Guideau. I don’t know what he’s hiding exactly, but...

...I think his bond to Guideau has a very plot-relevant explanation (the guy casted a spell onto his own mind in order to mechanize it, so he could attack Dunward and get Guideau back, I mean ??? I doubt it’s just affection, there has to be another reason). 

For now, I believe that it might be because Guideau’s existence (both original body and curse) is somewhat extraordinary and has implications for the plot and universe that we have yet to understand.

Still, I also believe that Ashaf truly wants to help Guideau with figuring out a way around the curse, which again might explain why he mentioned wanting to teach Guideau about love and why Angela...

...didn’t seem to want risking an encounter with Ashaf, all powerful that she is. 

In other words, do I ship it? Hell yeah. As @grelleswife said there is something so deliberately bi-coded about them that I just can’t get enough of their push-and-pull (read: Guideau threatening to kill him idk how many times) dynamic even if I believe that Ashaf is shady and might be expecting something out of Guideau that we don’t get quite yet. xD 

Additionally, thanks to @flycat999, we know that Guideau is starting, very slowly, to open up and to trust Ashaf more (addressing him less aggressively in the recent arc), so who knows just how intricately Ashaf will be related to Guideau learning about love. ;) 

I hope I answered your question, Anon! Thanks for the kind words by the way! Have a nice day! ^3^

Why you should read this series

[genshin-impact-writings]

May I request a songfic for Wicked Game for Childe x reader? Like, he's in love with the reader but he keeps pushing them away because he feels like it makes him weak etc. Can have a sad or happy ending, whichever you prefer! ❤️

I'm so, so sorry for the long wait, dear! But I couldn't decide where I wanted to go with this, so I kept working on other requests but it's finally done. I really hope you're still interested in this and like what I came up with. I decided to write a more happy ending because I wasn't in the mood for making it angsty, hope you don't mind that. Anyway, have fun reading and take care! <3

Btw, I listened to this version of the song while I was working on this.

Wicked Game – Tartaglia/Childe x gn!reader

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

The day he had met you was one he would never forget. With nothing more than a single glance and a soft smile you somehow had flipped his whole world upside down, a world he had carefully constructed around himself when he became the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers. It was almost funny, really. No one had ever managed to throw him for a loop, not even the strongest enemies he had to face on the battlefield – until he had stumbled upon you on that fateful day in Liyue Harbor. Suddenly, nothing he knew before seemed to make sense anymore. And after a few seconds of staring at you, he realized that he was irretrievably lost.

Lost in the way you smiled at him and the other customers that came to the small tea shop you worked at. Lost in the way your pretty eyes gleamed in the pale light of the moon when he saw you after dark. Lost in the warmth and comfort he always felt when you were around.

And as the time progressed and weeks and months went by, Tartaglia understood that it was more than just a crush. He was so in love with you that it almost hurt him physically.

And yet, he knew that he couldn’t allow himself to feel like that. For someone like him, it was dangerous to care about someone, not only because his enemies would never miss an opportunity to hurt him by hurting the ones he loved but also because feelings like these were nothing more than a distraction, a hindrance that kept him from completely focusing on his missions. Tartaglia couldn’t afford messing up, not when he didn’t want to disappoint the Tsaritsa. After all, he had sworn an oath, an oath to always put her and her interests first, and he couldn’t do that when someone – when you were all he could think of. You were the first person who crossed his mind as soon as he woke up and the last one he saw before drifting off to sleep in the evening. It was wonderful and terrible at the same time, and yet, there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling deeper in love with you.

It would be smart to avoid you, hoping that these feelings would disappear someday but still, he found himself visiting the little tea shop you worked at every day. It was embarrassing, really, given the fact that he knew absolutely nothing about tea but instead of listening to you as you explained the tea varieties and different ways of preparation, he kept staring at you, taking in your beauty and indulging in the warm, fuzzy feeling that always welled up inside him when the two of you crossed paths.

And the fact that you seemed to like him too didn’t make things easier. It was so hard to pretend that he didn’t care for you, to push you away over and over again, but for the sake of your safety – and to protect his stupid, foolish heart from shattering into a million pieces – he needed to keep you at distance. He needed to be strong, not only for his homeland but also for you – he needed to protect you from himself and from the things he did in the past and would do in the future.

Even if it meant that he would end up alone again.

Even if it meant that he had to break your heart.

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) With you With you

Tartaglia had started avoiding you one and a half weeks ago, not visiting the tea shop once and heading into the opposite direction as soon as he saw you on the streets, and still his heart started to beat faster when he thought about you or heard someone mention your name. He hated to act like this; he hated to hurt your feelings but what else could he do? You’d be better off without him, as well as he’d be better off without these distracting feelings.

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself.

And it worked surprisingly well – until he bumped into you on your way to work that morning. He hadn’t noticed you at first, or else he would’ve chosen another way to get to Northland Bank, but now it was too late to turn around and leave.

“I’m sorry,” he said, carefully avoiding your gaze as he helped you picking up your belongings that you had dropped. “I didn’t see you.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. “It’s no big deal,” you replied. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you at the shop for a while.”

“Oh, about that…” He didn’t finish his sentence. It had been foolish to believe that you wouldn’t notice it. One time, you had even called out his name when you saw him near the shop, only to see him fobbing you off with a brief wave of his hand before turning around and leaving without giving you another glance. “Well…”

“You’re probably bored by my rambling about tea, huh?” you guessed, still smiling at him like you were really glad to see him again. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended if you are.”

“No, that’s not – that’s not the case.”

Your eyes were twinkling in amusement, and before he could look away again, he suddenly found himself staring into your eyes, his stupid heart skipping a beat as your smile grew wider. “That’s good to know,” you said softly. “But I was thinking… maybe we could meet up later, I mean, when – when the shop’s closed. You know, like-“

“Like a date,” he finished your sentence, his mouth suddenly so dry that he barely managed to get the words out. No, no, no, this couldn’t be true. How was he supposed to reject you when you asked him for a date, looking at him with his hopeful expression in your eyes? Just how?

“If you don’t want to that’s fine, too,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Tartaglia chuckled. “If I don’t want to?” he repeated and shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.” The words were out before he could stop himself. He knew that it wasn’t right, that he should take it back right now but as soon as he saw the genuine happiness in your eyes, he knew that there was no way back. And, if he was completely honest for a second, he didn’t want that anyways.

“I’ll pick you up at your house at – um, let’s say, tomorrow at 8?”

“Perfect.”

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

He didn’t show up.

Once again, you darted a nervous glance at the clock above the table, probably for the millionth time today. It was already half past 9 and Tartaglia was nowhere to be seen. An hour ago, you had tried to calm yourself down by telling yourself that he would be here any second now, that he was held up by someone or something but now, it was hard to think positive.

With a quiet sigh, you plunked yourself down on the couch. Tartaglia had stood you up, and it was stupid to deceive yourself by trying to tell you otherwise. He obviously had no interest in going out with you, it was easy as that. Perhaps he had only agreed in the first place because he didn’t know how to tell you No, or maybe he had fun going around and making others feel absolutely miserable.

You didn’t know, and you didn’t care.

No, that was actually a lie. You cared. You wanted to know what was wrong, why he wasn’t here with you right now and why he had started to act like you weren’t even friends anymore about two weeks ago. Overnight, he had changed his behavior completely, starting with not visiting the tea shop anymore through to blatantly ignoring you whenever your paths crossed. But no matter how hard you tried to make sense of it, you simply didn’t understand it.

And the fact that he invited you on a date, only to stand you up, confused you even more. His behavior made no sense at all, whichever way you looked at it.

You sighed again. In the beginning, your relationship had been so easy. You never had any trouble understanding him and you had always assumed that he liked to spend time with you. Heck, for a while you had even thought that he returned the feelings you had for him.

But apparently, he didn’t.

You buried your face in your hands, trying to fight back the tears that were welling up in your eyes. What kind of game was he playing? Did he even realize how much his behavior hurt you?

And I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) With you

“You! Stop right there!”

Tartaglia froze as he heard your angry voice. For a brief moment, he considered acting like he hadn’t heard you and just walk on by but deep down, he knew that he owed you an apology and an explanation why he hadn’t shown up to your date almost one week ago. The truth was that he really had wanted to go out with you – but at the same time, he had seen the opportunity to make you hate him by standing you up which would hopefully help him to get over you.

So much for that, he thought to himself as he slowly turned around to you. You were staring at him, your eyes filled with pent-up anger. “I was convinced you’d ignore me again,” you said, arms akimbo. “But it seems you’ve finally gathered the courage to talk to me after you skipped out on me last week.”

“Yeah, about that-“

“Stop,” you interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear your half-assed apologies. I just want you to listen to what I have to say.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. In all this time he had never seen you so angry and it was obvious that you were about to release a tirade but he knew very well that he deserved it. He deserved that you didn’t even give him the change to explain himself.

You huffed at the contrite expression on his face. “I’m not going to fall for that,” you warned him. “So don’t even try.”

Tartaglia nodded again, still not saying anything, just as you had told him.

“Great. Listen, I really don’t want to steal your precious time,” you replied in an undertone of utter sarcasm, “I just want to understand what’s going on. We’re friends, aren’t we? Damn, my silly self even thought that we could be more than that for a second but that’s not – that’s not the point now. I only want to know why you treat me like I am not in the least important to you all of a sudden.”

When he didn’t reply anything, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Hello? Haven’t you got a tongue in your head?”

“I don’t know what you want to hear, (Y/N).”

“The truth, Tartaglia,” you stated simply. “I don’t need any apologies or justifications. Just the truth.”

Tartaglia shook his head. There was no way he could tell you the truth because then, he’d have to explain why he was so afraid of falling love, why he was so afraid of being weak. This was none of your business; it was his burden, not yours. You shouldn’t even worry about things like that; you should be in your shop, happily smiling at customers instead of wasting your time with someone like him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said when the silence between the two of you became unbearable, your voice shaking ever so slightly. “If you don’t want to be with me, just tell me. I can take it. But stop acting like you care, only to ignore me the day after! Stop pushing me around like that.”

Tartaglia was painfully aware of the fact that you were on the verge of tears. Everything about your posture told him that you were about to lose your composure, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say something. He knew that he had treated you like garbage, that he had hurt your feelings over and over again but what was he supposed to do now? There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to turn back time and wipe the slate clean.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, completely helpless, while you stood there with hanging shoulders as tears started to stream down your beautiful face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I should’ve known better,” you sobbed. “I should’ve known better than to fall in love with someone like you!”

In that moment, he felt his protective instinct kick in. It didn’t matter that he had promised himself to stay away from you or that he was the reason for your tears. All he wanted now was to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be fine again.

In an instant, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his body, his hands gently caressing your back as you buried your face in his chest. “Don’t cry,” he mumbled, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Please, darling, don’t cry.”

He held you close, uttering apology after apology and patiently waiting for you to calm down. When you finally pulled away, your eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Your lower lip was trembling, almost as if you were trying to fight back even more tears. “I hate you.”

“I know,” Tartaglia replied softly and reached out to brush a strand of hair from your forehead. “I deserve that.”

“I don’t really hate you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he repeated and cupped your face with both hands, gently wiping away the tears on your cheeks before he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours in a soft, almost chaste kiss. It didn’t last long, and yet it was enough to make him realize that being in love with you didn’t make him weak. It made him strong.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

[telli1206]

A, K and Z for the ask game <3

For you @moorsgrimhilde? Anything 💞

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

Jaylos and Malvie will always be my favorite romantic pairings. No other coupling in any other fandom has ever compared. They are my loves 💕

Friendship-wise, I’m writing some Jal banter right now that’s helping me out of my writing slump. I seriously love them being little shits to each other. They’re the most fun pairing to write.

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

I think Descendants really missed out on the fantastic development arc that should have existed for Carlos De Vil, but I love bringing it out when I write my fics. The abuse he endured with Cruella made him strong, and the way he used his brains and pursued his studies to find a way out is courageous and admirable. That alone gave his character so much potential on the Isle, and especially when he had the chance to grow in Auradon. 

There’s a little glimpse of what he becomes in the movies, because Cameron really took his moments on screen to shine, but the strong, smart, snarky Carlos that’s comfortable in his own skin and growing in his own confidence is what we deserved and what we were denied in Descendants.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

My brain has been spinning with the CUTEST Jaylos idea I got from another fandom, where Jay the jock would spot Carlos at a party and just go right for him, hitting on him straight away and trying to hook up with him. And while Carlos is usually not that type, he can’t deny his attraction to Jay, and just says “Fuck, I kind of do,” when Jay asks him if he wants to make out. But Carlos quickly realizes what a player Jay is, and tries to avoid him after the party. 

And Jay should be ok with that, since he’s only into one-time hookups anyway, but instead he finds himself searching for white curls in the hallways, and getting distracted by laughs that sound like Carlos’ when he’s supposed to be flirting. So he finally decides to pursue Carlos again, and after a few tries they end up hooking up again. And after that it kind of becomes a regular thing, because Jay gets his number and texts him for secret meet-ups to make out all over campus and even in his room sometimes. They usually end up chatting or grabbing coffee or food after, and even though Jay’s never done this with any of his other hookups, he still assumes this is just a casual thing.

Until Jay gets drunk with a few friends, and notices on Snapchat that Carlos is out to dinner nearby with his friend Evie and decides to crash their dinner. He’s so drunk after that Carlos ends up having to walk him back to his room and get him to bed, and Jay wakes up to a nice note from Carlos and aspirin and water on his nightstand.

Jay feels awful that Carlos had to take care of him, since that’s obviously not how their arrangement is supposed to work, so he calls to apologize, hoping he didn’t ruin things by being needy. When he explains that to Carlos, he suddenly gets angry and tells Jay to lose his number and hangs up on him. Jay is confused as to what happened, so he talks to his friend Mal, who enlightens Jay to the idea that he might have actually been sort of dating Carlos, which he’s never done with anyone before. When Jay realizes his mistake, and that he actually does like Carlos and wants to try dating him, he tries to call Carlos to tell him. But Carlos has blocked him. Luckily he has Evie’s number and he convinces her to hear him out, and once she understands how stupid they’re both being she tells Jay where Carlos will be studying tomorrow on campus with her, and that she’ll run late so they have time to talk.

When Jay arrives and Carlos sees him the next day, Carlos immediately tries to flee, so Jay hurries into his apology and explanation, begging Carlos to give him a chance. When Carlos learns how new the actual concept of dating is to Jay, he finally relents and agrees to give it a shot with him. Cue Happy Ending and kiss🥰

*Whew* that’s the longest ramble I’ve had in a while. I hope you enjoyed it Sofia  😉

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[fandom-imagines-stories]

Run to You Part One

Derek Morgan x Reader

Words: 2474

Summary: Having been dating for a while, you finally feel comfortable enough to introduce your boyfriend to your daughter, Angelica. Derek takes on the role better than you could have imagined and you start to feel like a family. Then one day, Angelica disappears from a friend’s house and your ex husband starts making demands. 

Notes: Hey look it’s another one shot that got turned into a mini series. Whoops. Anyway, Derek Morgan, like Reid, holds a very special place in my heart and I hope you guys enjoy. Let me know what you think!

More Criminal Minds: HERE

-

You swirled the wine around in your glass, blowing out a long sigh before checking your watch. You’d been sitting there for about twenty minutes, deflecting glances from the waiter and reading the menu over and over again. You were about to call when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, the contact nearly making you jump out of your chair. You whirled around, heart pounding and breathing heavy. You sighed with relief when a familiar charming smile greeted you. 

“Jesus, Derek, you’re lucky I didn’t pepper-spray you.” You groused, feeling your body gradually calm down. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Sorry, baby, I got caught up at work.” 

“Uhuh.” You coyly turned your head away, pretending to ignore him. He ran his hands up and down your arms, giving you goosebumps. 

“I’ll make it up to you…” He coaxed, his breath hot against the skin of your neck. Damn, he was impossible to be mad at. 

“You’d better.” You surrendered to another kiss before he sat down across from you. 

While you kept up your usual cool and collected appearance, on the inside you were sweating like a pig. Tonight was the night. Usually, on nights like tonight, you would get either dumped or ghosted. Most of the time it was both. But you had a feeling, a desperate hope, that Derek was different. 

“Earth to Y/N.” Derek laughed. You hadn’t realized that you had spaced off. He reached across the table and put his hand on yours. “Where’s your head at, sweetheart?” 

“I, uh,” You laughed nervously, “I was thinking we could go back to my place after this.” The biggest smirk spread across his face. 

“That’s what you’re getting antsy about?” He chuckled, shaking his head. The waiter came back with the check and, though he offered, you took this one. 

“You paid for the last date.” You reasoned, though you also didn’t want him to shell out for dinner if he was going to run off later. 

“Independent woman, I get it.” He teased. He knew that something was off about tonight. You kept looking at your watch, fingers tapping on the table anxiously, and now your eyes kept darting from the check to his face. 

Once the check was taken care of, you both headed back out to the parking lot. Derek took your hand and stopped suddenly, pulling you into his arms. He lifted your chin so that you were looking into his eyes. You looked pretty freaked out about something and it was worrying him. 

“Okay, sweetheart, what’s going on?” 

“What do you mean? Everything’s fine.” You couldn’t even convince yourself, let alone a behavioral profiler. You took a breath and let the tension built up in your shoulders fall. “Okay, there’s something I haven’t been telling you about me and when we go back to my place, you’re going to understand.” His eyes widened. 

“Don’t tell me you're married.” 

“No!” You exclaimed. “Well, not anymore. My ex and I split a long time ago.” 

“I’m confused. You were married?” You nodded, looking down shamefully. Derek put a hand on your cheek. “Baby, you could have told me that.” You let out a frustrated sigh. 

“That’s not the problem, Derek. That’s not the part that sends every other guy I’ve dated running for the hills.” 

“You’re really freaking me out here, Y/N. What is it?” Did you really think he was that kind of guy? You bit your lip nervously. 

“My roommate.” 

-

Your apartment should have been dark, but the living room lamp lit up the room, revealing the little bundle of blankets curled up on the sofa and the fast-asleep teen in the chair. You sighed, putting your keys in the little bowl on the table and walked over to the couch. You knelt in front of it, searching for a little nose and a pair of eyes. 

“I know you’re awake, Jellybean.” You tapped her nose lightly and earned a chorus of giggles. Her eyes popped open and her arms latched around your neck. 

“I missed you.” She pouted, making you laugh. 

“Baby, it’s only been a couple of hours. Besides, you had Amy to keep you company.” You motioned to the teen who was snoring in the seat across from you. Angelica made a face. 

“Who’s that?” She pointed over your shoulder to an awestruck looking Derek. You picked her up, blankets and all, and walked her over to him. 

“This is Derek. He’s a friend of mommy’s.” You tried to read his expression, but he was just looking at her. 

“Hi Derek, I’m Angelica.” She beamed. He smiled. 

“Hi sweetheart. That’s a really pretty necklace.” He motioned to the chain around her neck. It had a little locket on the end with a picture of the two of you inside. 

“Thanks! It was my mom’s, but she gave it to me for my birthday this year.” 

“Alright, munchkin, why don’t you go brush your teeth and get into bed?” You put her down on the floor, ignoring her pouting lips. “Go.” She scampered off to her room and you slowly looked back up at Derek. “So…”

“So.” 

“I’m going to send Amy home and then can I get you something to drink?” You asked, but you were really waiting for him to run. He nodded. 

“A drink would be great.” 

After Amy was gone and you finally got Angelica to stay in bed, Derek was patiently waiting on the couch, glass of wine in hand, awaiting the explanation that sent most guys out the door. You nervously sat down beside him and took a long drink from your own glass. 

“Your roommate?” Derek chuckled, quirking a brow. You laughed anxiously. 

“Yeah… I was afraid if I came right out and said ‘daughter’ you wouldn’t have even left the parking lot.” You curled your legs up underneath you, trying to get comfortable despite the situation. “That’s also why I didn’t tell you about her sooner. It seems every time I like a guy, he bolts as soon as he finds out I’ve got a kid.” Derek nodded in understanding. 

“How old is she?” 

“She’ll be eight in two months.” You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. “They aren’t kidding when they say they grow up fast.” 

“Yeah, well if she’s anything like her mother, I’m sure she’s a piece of work.” Derek chuckled, teasingly poking your side. He seemed pretty laid back. He wasn’t gunning for the door or itching to leave as soon as your back was turned. His face turned serious, but he still didn’t seem angry. “You know you could have told me, right?” 

“It’s not you, Derek.” You stared at the wine in your glass, watching it swirl around like a crimson whirlpool. “I just have a hard time trusting people, especially when it comes to her. But I’m sure your profiler brain figured that out the day we met.” You cast him a knowing look. He shrugged. 

“I knew that you weren’t telling me something, but I always figured you’d tell me when you were ready to tell me.” He moved closer to you, setting his glass on the coffee table. “And now you have.” 

“I know that this isn’t exactly what you signed up for, and I’m not asking for you to step in and become her dad or anything like that, but I really want to keep seeing you and-” You took a breath. “Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” 

“Just a little, but it’s okay.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you both sank further into the couch. “She seems like a good kid.”

“Oh, she is.” You beamed. “She’s smart and way more creative than I ever was at her age. And after everything that’s happened…” You stopped. You didn’t want to get into that now. One big reveal is enough for one night. “She’s a great kid.” 

Derek didn’t miss your hesitation, but he decided not to push it. You would tell him when you were ready. 

-

Three weeks later

When you stepped into the kitchen, you couldn’t help but laugh. Derek was standing over the stove, eggs cooking in the pan and music playing from your speaker. 

“Alright, show me your moves. Dance with me, Angel.” He laughed, Angelica jumping and spinning around him. Derek was beaming, picking her up in his arms and twirling around, spotting you out of the corner of his eye. “Morning.” 

“Morning momma!” Angelica exclaimed. You smiled and kissed her cheek. 

“Good morning Jellybean.” You kissed Derek, smiling against his lips. “Good morning Derek.” 

“We’re making you breakfast.” Angel grinned. “We’ve got eggs and bacon and french toast.” 

“Don’t forget the coffee.” Derek added. You laughed. 

“No, never forget the coffee.” You poured yourself a cup and watched as Derek continued his playful dancing with your daughter. It was hard to believe that he didn’t know she existed a month ago. In just a few weeks, Derek had become a fixture in her life. He was sweet and funny and, most importantly, he really cared about her. “Oh, Derek, I almost forgot. Could you pick Angel up after school today? I have a bunch of meetings today that are supposed to go late. Obviously if you have to leave for a case, I can figure something else out, but I figured if you were here you might be available?” 

“I’ll let you know if we have to take off, but I should be able to otherwise.” 

“Yay!” Angel cheered, placing a big kiss on his cheek. Derek chuckled. 

“Alright, Angel, you’d better go get ready.” He put her back down. “And if you’re quick, I’ll make you an extra piece of french toast, okay?”

“Okay, Derek!” She grinned and sprinted to her room. You watched him in awe. 

“I can’t believe how good you are with her.” You mused. Derek smirked. 

“What can I say? Chicks love me.” He teased. You rolled your eyes. Dereke snaked an arm around your waist and kissed your cheek. 

“I have two sisters.” He chuckled, shrugging slightly. “Besides, Angel is a sweet girl.”

“She’s crazy about you, that’s for sure.” You laughed lightly, taking another sip of coffee. Everything felt exactly the way it was supposed to. Derek made you feel safer than you had in a long time and, even more, he made you happier than you had been in years. 

Derek gave you a quick kiss goodbye before jetting off to the BAU. You watched his car pull away as he blew a kiss to Angelica with a grin on his face. 

When he got to work, an eagerly curious face was awaiting him. Penelope had been trying to figure out who Derek’s new girl was for a while. He hadn’t told her your name, partially because it was fun to watch her squirm with not knowing, but also because he knew her too well. She’d find out everything she could about you and he wanted to find it out for himself. He didn’t want you getting profiled by anybody else on the team. 

“You can stop grinning like that, babygirl, I’m still not going to tell you.” He smirked. Garcia pouted. 

“I can’t believe you torture me like this.” She huffed. “I am your best friend and therefore am privy to any and all relationship details. Hiding them is like breaching our deepest form of trust.” 

“I have given you details, Penelope.” He chuckled. “I’ve told you I’m seeing someone, it’s more serious than a usual fling, and that you would approve of her.” 

“How do you know I would approve?” Garcia challenged, punching his shoulder. “She’s got to be one hell of a woman to be good enough for my Derek Morgan.” 

“She is, babygirl. Believe me, she is.” He put an arm around her as they walked in together. Prentiss gave the pair a smile. 

“Did he finally tell you who she is?” 

“No and it is killing me!” 

“I still think he made her up to torture us.” Reid laughed as he walked by. Derek thwacked the back of his head and everyone laughed as they went to their piles of dreaded paperwork. Derek stopped by J.J.’s office. 

“Hey, J.J. what does today look like so far? Any cases?” 

“None that aren’t going to take me all day to prepare, why?” She smirked. “Got a hot date with your mystery woman tonight?” Morgan chuckled. 

“Something like that.” 

“Seriously, we are all dying to meet the woman that finally caged our resident playboy.” J.J. whined. 

“You’ll all meet her soon enough, I promise. I just don’t want all of you scaring Y/N off yet.” He wiggled his eyebrows, content with giving her just enough of a clue to appease the beasts for a while. 

Walking back to his desk, he had to shake his head, laughing as J.J. rushed to Garcia’s office to tell her the ‘mystery woman’s’ name. 

The day passed just as J.J. had said. Without a case, it was all catching up on paperwork and studying different cases. Of course, Garcia would be looking up every Y/N in Virginia and Morgan couldn’t help but revel in her vain efforts. 

He was pouring himself another cup of coffee when Prentiss tapped his shoulder. 

“Hey, your phone’s been ringing. I was half tempted to answer just to get it to stop. Can’t you hear it?” 

“I guess my mind was somewhere else.” He shrugged. He finished pouring his coffee and went back to his desk. “SSA Morgan.” 

“Derek…” You tried to calm down enough so you could speak clearly. 

“Y/N? Baby, what is it? Are you okay?” The entire office shifted with him. They saw his body tense and his voice change with concern. 

“It’s Angelica. S-she disappeared from school. They said she was there before recess and when they came back in, she was gone. Derek, he took her. I know he did. If we don’t find her he’s going to-”

“Woah, slow down, baby. I’m coming to you, okay. Where are you, the school?”

“Yeah, but Derek I-”

“I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere until I get there.” He hung up and grabbed his jacket. Prentiss looked at him with a worried expression. 

“Morgan, is everything okay?”

“Tell Hotch I had to leave.” 

“Why? What happened?” Reid asked. Derek looked around at all of their concerned faces and sighed. 

“I don’t have time to explain right now and it might be nothing, but if it isn’t…” He hated to admit it, but this wasn’t about his ego. This was about you and Angel. “I might need your help.” 

With that, he was gone, running to the elevator to get to you as fast as he could.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[cdroloisms]

the amount of angst in the post-prison writing you did just gave me massive post-prison dream brainrot and i'm just. sitting here thinking about how sam dealt with the curious looks and glances and having to face what's he's done as a warden. and everyone else's reaction to everything because hey, maybe the prison WAS a torture chamber that nobody deserves to be locked in to be treated like utter trash.

(btw i love your writing and analysis! they give me so much life :DD)

thank you anon!! this universe is ,, Fun ,, im ngl -> have this continuation of it, w/ sapnap and sam!! it’s a bit messy but oh well

(edit: i added these two asks as well bc they fit and i thought it’d be a bit redundant to rewrite this scene lmao -> the implication that dream’s admissions abt exile mightve been the result of ,, torture is. uh. yikes.) 

(This one is DARK, please heed the warnings)

TW: PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL ABUSE (heavy warning for this one), starvation, toxic relationship, manipulation, references to the prison and exile, c!sam/warden!sam critical, violence, blood, dark themes, emotional distress, child abuse, torture

“Be honest,” Sapnap starts, quiet. “What did you do?”

Sam opens his mouth - hesitates, looks away. He should’ve known that his vague words and half-explanations that had been enough to push away most of the crowd - or at least, postpone the conversation for later - wouldn’t have been nearly enough to convince the man standing in front of him, but a part of him must’ve hoped, anyway. He’s not ready to speak, not ready to admit anything to himself, never mind someone else entirely - but ‘ready’ doesn’t matter, not when Sapnap is right here, waiting.

(He ignores how ‘ready’ didn’t matter for Dream when Sam had gone in, that first time, pick in hand and nothing but questions and rage spinning in an endless cycle in his mind, whirling together into something incomprehensible, insatiable, vicious - he’s not thinking about it.

He can’t think about it.)

“Well?” Sapnap’s voice raises, impatience coloring his tone, and it’s almost enough to draw a chuckle to Sam’s lips - he’d always been a little overeager, not doing well with silence, waiting, even as a kid. It’s part of the reason why he got along with Dream so well, Dream jumping at the chance to spend time with someone that didn’t shut him down for rambling and Sapnap simply excited at the chance to have someone that would join him on his hare-brained schemes instead of dismissing him as a dumb kid- and oh. Right.

The scrunch of his face is the same, Sam realizes, absently, as the expression Sapnap had when he was little; it’s the same crease between his eyebrows, the same slight jut to his bottom lip. Even with a new scar decorating his left jaw and the shadows under his eyes and collection of faint wrinkles belying his stress, he doesn’t look all that different - still looks young, a kid playing dress up in armor too big and too war-torn to belong to him. It’s easy to forget, but even after all the wars they’ve fought, even with all of the combat experience he’s had, Sapnap’s still barely twenty - only a few weeks out of being a teenager.

(He crushes the thought of what that makes Dream - he’s not. Thinking. About. It.)

“Hello? Earth to Sam?” Sapnap snaps his fingers in front of his face, and Sam blinks away the memories, the guilt, boxing it up and filing it neatly away to deal with - later. Never, ideally.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

Only later is now, there’s no escaping this conversation, and Sam. Really doesn’t want to be talking about this, right now. Sapnap fidgets, leaning on his right foot and then his left and then rocking back again - the feeling is mutual, then, but he knows the look in the younger’s eye well enough to know that neither of them are leaving without an explanation leaving Sam’s lips.

(Netherite and iron and smoke, bloodstained pickaxe tipping up a gaunt face, hand reaching around a too-prominent jawline with bruising force - are you going to answer my question, prisoner? Or are we going to have to do this again?

He’s not-

He can’t-)

“I-,” guilt, thick and heavy, circles his throat, chokes the words rising in his mouth. What can he even say? Can words really capture the sweat-slick desperation, the bubbling lava and heat and smoke stealing away all breath and thought, leaving nothing but a humming buzz of rage burning, hissing, begging for release? Can he really describe the endless darkness and weight settling on his shoulders, the hard edges and jagged fear taking anything soft, anything kind? Words swim in the back of his throat, try to reach his teeth, fall short; bloodstained memories haunt the back of his eyelids every time he blinks; there is so much, too much, to say, and yet nothing at all.

How does he even start?

There is no sympathy on Sapnap’s face when Sam looks, but there isn’t any cruelty either, just dark, watching eyes, lips thin and pressed together, jaw clamped shut, tense. Indifference, or a pale imitation of it, meant to hide the mess of his hair, the tremble in his hands, the helpless, desperate thing growing in his pupils. Sam understands and wishes he doesn’t; regrets, and wonders if he has the right, anymore.

“It- started, as an interrogation,” Sam stumbles over his words, stares at his hands because looking at Sapnap’s face will be too much, is too much. “I was angry. The prisoner- Dream- was desperate. That cell-” he shakes his head, remembers obsidian in his hands, remembers tearing away carpet, paintings, plants, remembers leaving the box bareboned, desolate, a cage and nothing more, “It messes with you. Screws with your head. I knew it, he knew it, but I guess we didn’t realize- I guess I didn’t realize-”

(Blood and crunching bone and shrill screams - tell me what you did to him-)

“I needed information. He wasn’t talking. I got- heated, and he laughed, and something- snapped, I guess.”

(I’ll tell you I’m sorry please please sam stop please)

“All I had on me was a pickaxe. He wasn’t talking, I was desperate - angry - I needed to know. I didn’t-”

(I just knew I needed to drag him away, he was ruining everything, he was destroying everything, I just needed him to leave before he brought down the whole damn server with him - the tnt was supposed to be a one time thing)

“It was supposed to be- one time. Was never supposed to happen, at all. But I guess I got mad - for me? For Tommy? I don’t- I don’t know, and it was- easy, you know? Take away the clock, one day. Give him less potatoes the next.”

(It was easy to do it again, I guess, mess with his invitations a little, take some of his stuff. There was nobody around but me and him and he’d ruined so much, he’d messed everything up - I thought that maybe if I took away his armor enough, he wouldn’t be able to go back. He wouldn’t ruin everything.)

“He’d done- so much. He was so awful to Tommy, to everyone- I thought I could prevent that. I thought maybe if I broke him enough, he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone again. I renamed the pickaxe Will Breaker, to remind me, to remind him, I don’t know. I-”

Sam laughs, tired, poisonous, ignoring the way Sapnap whispers, stricken, looking at his hands and seeing nothing but red. Dream’s face, bruised, bloody, but glimmering with something almost like satisfaction comes to mind - and oh. Oh.

(Bloodstained teeth twisted in a bitter smile - Sam, I thought I had to.)

He gets it now. He wishes he didn't.

“I thought- ha-” His hand comes up to his face - he’s crying. When did he start crying? ”I thought I had to.”

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.8 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N and Josh talk things over about where they stand as Y/N tries to build the courage to confess to Peter. One night on top of the roof, Y/N and Peter reveal any secrets they’ve been keeping from each other. 

Word Count: 5k

Author’s Note: This is technically the last part of Lovedust but there will be an epilogue. I was going to go a whole different direction and make it too angsty because sometimes, life works out that way but you guys deserve a happy ending ;) This series was only meant to be about three parts long but because of ow supportive and kind you all have been, I just have no words except thank you all so much. I will give a better thank you for the epilogue  but until then, enjoy the chapter. 

Warning: adult language

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || epilogue 

You stared up at your bedroom ceiling quietly, picking at the stitching of your blanket to the point where you had about four inches of loose thread massaged between your thumb and middle finger.

Three minutes. 

Peter was presumed dead for three minutes as you were giving him CPR that was literally a race against the clock. One hundred eighty seconds was the span between life or death and you couldn’t help but think of what if you had stopped after a minute? What about one hundred and seventy-nine seconds?

Three minutes. Your mind was so fucked that the only thing you could compare the time to was that Peter was dead longer than the time it took to pop a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

You thought back to the time where you had gone to California with Tony where you were alone in the hotel room while he had a conference. You remembered how scared you felt when the ground started to shake underneath you as the earth rolled underneath.

That earthquake must’ve only lasted fifteen seconds tops and yet, you felt like it was an eternity of shielding yourself underneath one of the desks that would’ve surely broken if the roof caved in overhead.

It’s odd how times works, whenever you’re in a dangerous situation, your body literally slows downtime so you can have the best chance at survival. So while those three minutes didn’t seem like a long time, the lingering fear of losing Peter after everything sent your body through emotional distress like no other.

It felt like a cruel joke; you had only come to realize you were in love with him when he was dying in front of you. What was even crueler was that even though everything seemed less complicated now that you really understood how you felt about him, it was only the tip of the iceberg.

It had been a few days since you had seen Peter since the night of the party and you felt like you were slowly losing your sanity. Your dad tried convincing you that Peter needed to be monitored for a while but maybe he just wanted you two to stay away from each other since you practically almost killed him by kissing Josh.

You loved Peter and he “loved” you yet once he was cured, he wouldn’t share the same feelings for you. What would happen once he was cured? How different would things be between you, especially since you would be having feelings for someone who doesn’t love you back? 

Loving someone who surely wasn’t in love with you felt like a whole new level of self-destruction.

Your phone rang from underneath your pillow and temporarily interrupted your thoughts. You reached under the pillow to pull out your phone to find that Josh was calling you. 

You inhaled sharply as you practically leaped out from under your covers, unsure of what to do. 

The last you heard from Josh was the night of the party but just like Peter, you hadn’t seen or spoke to him since. That wasn’t the full truth, Josh had been texting you to make sure you were okay but you didn’t have the strength to even reply to his worried texts. 

Poor Josh. He felt like an innocent bystander who got hit in the crossfire of what was going on between you and Peter.

In past relationships, you were like Josh. Your past boyfriends seem to always treat you as a rebound, a backup in case things went south and as gross as it made you feel, it was like you could sort of understand why your exes felt that way.

You didn’t want to lead Josh on, he was too nice of a guy to deserve that type of treatment. Your thumb hovered over the screen and you answered his call at the last second. He deserved that at the least.

“ Hey sorry, I was um, preoccupied. Is everything okay?” You asked as you started to pace your room.

“ I was going to ask the same for you. You haven’t been answering my texts and I was getting worried.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as a wave of guilt washed over you,” Y-Yeah I’m sorry. I’ve just been going through some stuff. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“ You don’t have to apologize, I get it. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something in person, are you doing anything at the moment? 

You rolled your shoulders back as you let out a deep sigh. In all honesty, you didn’t feel like leaving your room but if you were going to pick Peter over Josh, you also would have to owe him an explanation.

“ Okay, where do you want to meet?”

“ We can meet outside your complex, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“ Oh that’s probably easier anyway, when are you gonna come over?” You asked as you fell backwards onto your bed.

“ Um...I’m already outside.”

Your eyes widened as you scrambled over to your window to squint out towards the entrance. Sure enough, if you squinted really hard, you could make out Josh’s car outside the front gate.

“ Oh fuck! Sorry um, I’m coming out now!” You didn’t bother to let Josh respond as you hung up the phone and practically rushed out of your bedroom.

You practically sprinted across the front lawn all the way to the entrance and once you opened the gate, you leaned your body against the side of Josh’s car to help catch your breath.  

“ You didn’t have to run all the way here, I could’ve waited,” Josh said with a smile as he watched you struggling.

“ I know,” You huffed as you felt yourself calm down,” but it would have been awkward if you just stood there for five minutes and watched me walk the whole way.”

“ Okay, that’s fair,” Josh chuckled as he leaned against the side of his car beside you,” I wanted to talk to you about the night of the party. I just want to make sure you’re okay and I’m sorry if I overstepped by kissing you. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

You felt your heartstrings tug at his words as you looked down at your flip flops. You didn’t know how to explain to him that he wasn’t the one who overstepped but that the kiss was never supposed to happen. 

“ You don’t have to apologize Josh and you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. It’s just...I know how you feel about me and don’t get me wrong, I’m so flattered that you actually like me because to be honest, you’re way out of my league but um,” You awkwardly rubbed your sweaty hands against your pajama bottoms and let out a shaky breath,” I thought things were fine and that they would go back to normal but um, things kinda just happened and you were there and I thought hey he’s cute, like super cute, and Kim was being so pushy-”

“ I know you have feelings for Peter, it’s okay Y/N,” Josh interrupted as he took a moment before wincing,” I didn’t mean to interrupt you but I had a feeling that’s where you were heading with it. Plus you ramble when you’re nervous and I don’t want you to say something embarrassing. ”

Bless his soul, Josh really would be the death of you.

“ Is it that obvious I like him?” 

“ Painfully obvious yeah. I kinda figured you two had something going on but after you gave him CPR and you two gave each other that look, that’s when it all clicked for me,” Josh said as you felt the tips of your ears get hot.

“ Josh, I am so sorry. I really mean it when I say that you’re the sweetest guy I have ever met and I really do wish you the best,” You answered honestly and you felt even guiltier when Josh only shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t believe that even now as you were telling Josh you didn’t share feelings for him that he was still being incredibly sweet towards you. 

“ Same goes for you, I hope he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I have to be honest and say that I can’t get rid of my feelings for you overnight but hopefully we can be friends somewhere along the line,” Josh offered as you felt your heart snap in two.

As you looked back at Josh, that’s when you could really make out the distinct difference between the two boys. You weren’t sure if what Josh was saying was truthful, he was harder to read than Peter and even though his mouth was saying one thing, you could see that there was some pain behind his brown eyes that told a different story. 

Yet nonetheless, you admired that Josh, despite having the full right to completely guilt you and make you feel like shit because of what happened, still chose to put any malicious intent aside for your own good.  

“ Is it okay if I hug you?” You asked as Josh returned a sweet smile, embracing you in his strong arms. 

Despite the heaviness in Josh’s chest, he felt his heart flutter at the feeling of your body pressed against his. The hug was short but even in those few seconds, Josh felt himself trying to take a mental picture of this moment, something he would replay over and over as he did his best to get over you. 

After Josh had left, you made your way back into your cave and hid out in your room for the rest of the night. You had school first thing in the morning and yet, you found yourself tossing and turning yet again. 

To cure your restless mind, you left your room and headed into the kitchen to make tea. You were never the type to drink tea but you didn’t have the patience to just lay in bed, at least this way you were occupying your mind with something else.

As the water boiled, you kept your eyes on Peter’s bedroom door, your knee bouncing up and down as if you were anticipating him opening it. You wondered how he was feeling, considering he almost died and all.

You just wished you could have the confidence to just go up and talk to him, to admit that it was him all along and that you chose him. 

You poured the tea into a mug and cradled it in your hands carefully as a pair of feet made their way into the kitchen. You turned around, anticipating Peter’s face but instead, you looked up to see your dad.

“ You didn’t hear it from me but Peter is up on the roof waiting for you. Just in case if you were wondering,” Tony said as he nonchalantly dragged his finger across the countertop and peeked his head towards your tea,” aren’t you glad I made you learn CPR? I know it was part of your lifeguard course but I’m glad it came in handy.”

“  Too soon,” You sighed as you watched your dad haphazardly look through the cupboards,” and I wasn’t wondering about Peter. I’m just minding my own business and then I’m heading to bed.”

“ Minding your own business? That’s not the Y/N I know.”

“ Well, what would the Y/N you know do?” You asked as you looked down at the inside of your mug,” am I supposed to just run over to the roof and profess my love for him?” 

Tony furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head,” I never said anything about love kiddo but the Y/N I know loves to talk so yeah, I expect some emotional reunion of the sort. You’ve always been known to be a bit theatrical.”

“ And who do you think I get that from?”

“ The one and only Potts,” Tony chuckled as a small smile crept onto your lips,” I don’t know what to say because I don’t think I can bring myself to give my daughter relationship advice about a guy who lives only a few doors down. If anything, it’s against my best interest but I will make this the one exception where I will intervene simply because if I don’t, no one else will. I think you should talk to Peter. He’s been through a lot and he has some things he needs to talk to you about.”

” Well he’s the one avoiding me so maybe he should come over and say it to my face,” You didn’t know why you turned so aggressive but you took a small sip of your tea to try and ease your nerves,” I know he’s been through a lot but we both have. That night of the party was just...too much for me. ”

“ You really are my daughter, always making it about you. You gotta give the kid a break.”

“ I- Dad it is all about me. That night fucking-not sorry- sucked and I don’t know what else to say. I jumped into a pool with my clothes on and I thought Peter was dead-”

“ But he’s not dead. He’s alive and breathing and waiting for you on the roof like I told you,” Tony interrupted as you exhaled slowly,” you love him, it’s a fathers worst nightmare but even I can see clear as day that you have feelings for him, are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”

You liked to think you knew yourself better than anyone else and for the most part, it was true. Tony was probably the closest to knowing who you really were as a person and yet, everything he was saying still wasn’t enough to make you less paranoid.

“ I wouldn’t say you’re wrong but I’m too scared to say out loud that you’re right,” You said as Tony rolled his eyes,” what? What did I say?”

“ You love to talk and yet, you never say enough. I don’t have the patience to stand here and listen to you beat around the bush,” Tony kneeled down towards one of the cupboards and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the shelf,” you have a problem. Let me know how things go with Peter. Or don’t. I’ll find out anyway.”

You stood there, mouth wide open as you watched Tony playfully bump into your shoulder, what a bastard,” Yeah sure! You’re the one drinking at three am but I’m the problem?”

Tony only gave you a hasty wave before turning the corner to where the elevators were, leaving you alone in the kitchen. He was right, everything he was saying made perfect sense and yet, it annoyed you on how right he was.

You had absolutely no idea how to start a conversation with Peter now that you were sure of your feelings and yet, all you wanted to do was find him and reveal everything to him. You looked between your bedroom door and the elevators. You could either go back to bed or you could talk to Peter and nervously choke on your words like a schoolgirl.

Fuck no.

You walked over to your room with your mug in one hand but before you could open the door, your legs started to move in the direction of the elevators, seemingly with a mind of their own.

Fuck it.

You stepped into the elevator and made your way up the floors until you hit the roof access. You hardly spent any of your time on the roof since you had no reason to ever be up there in the first place but once you opened the door,  you were immediately taken aback.

The greenroof took up almost half of the roof itself, the addition being nothing more than a general garden area to look aesthetically pleasing from the sky. Since most of the energy needed to run the facility was either solar or space related, the greenroof was more of a private garden that didn’t account for energy efficiency.

A mixture of moss and summer grass covered the roof in a thick blanket that never grew beyond the border of the garden and at first glance, the brightly freckled flowers planted along the pathway seemed random but as you walked down the graveled path, you could tell that there was some element of planning that went along with it.

Along the pathway stood different hues of green bonsai trees that stood tall and proud in their wooden boxes. You were so focused on the bonsais that you didn’t notice Peter sitting on one of the benches about a couple of yards away.

Your breath hitched in your throat but your feet continued to crunch along the graveled pathway as you made your way over to him. From Peter’s spot underneath the patio, he could hear you walking towards him but kept his eyes looking straight forward, unable to tear them away from the cityscape in the far distance.

You hesitantly took a seat beside Peter on the wooden bench and tucked your legs back so you could rest the mug on your thigh. The lights that Peter had strung up a few weeks back had lost it’s brightness, leaving behind a faded orange glow in its place but it was just the right amount of light needed to where you could read his expression carefully.

“ How are you feeling?” You asked quietly as you attempted to get a feel for what mindset Peter was in.

“ Good, I feel good,” Peter said back, almost quieter than the volume you started out with,” how are you feeling?”

While both of your minds were racing at the thought of the other person, the thoughts suddenly felt almost too personal, the atmosphere being instantly filled with the conversations you two weren’t having.

Out of the two of you, Peter felt like he had more to share and yet, more to hide. You were still completely clueless on the following; A) Peter was cured B) You cured him because of the kiss and C) He loved you back

It seemed like a dream come true, Peter was still in love with you without the lovedust and you felt the same way towards him and yet, he was still terrified. As everything began to feel more and more real, suddenly the idea of being with you made his chest tighten up.

He never knew if he could ever admit it outloud but he was scared that you liked him back because what if after all this time, after all the trials and tribulation the two of you had gone through, what if you two still didn’t work out?

There was so much history between the two of you and he was worried that all of the heartbreak and pining wouldn’t be worth it in the end. He loved you so much to where he knew that he needed you no matter what. It only hurt him more to think that from your last argument, you couldn’t even bring yourself to admit to him that you loved him. 

Now that you were here in front of him, Peter would make sure you wouldn’t leave without hearing you say it back. 

As Peter tried to carefully put his thoughts in order like he had practiced, you thought back to what your dad had told you and decided that you needed to start somewhere and you had to do that by being honest.

“ I’ve been struggling these last couple of days with what happened at the party. I can’t tell how you guilty I feel for putting you through so much pain and I wish I could take it all back. I feel so guilty because it was my fault you died- did you know that? I know the paramedics talked to you but you were dead for three minutes Peter and honestly, that was one of the worst moments of my life. I mean it’s up there with what happened to my parents,” You paused as you remembered to take a breath,” I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you.”

Peter felt his mouth dry up and for a moment, it was hard to swallow,” You didn’t kill me, you saved me. I still feel like I might be in shock from it all but I don’t blame you for anything that happened. I’m sorry I even put you through that cause I’m sure it was...a lot. But don’t ever say that you killed me, none of it was your fault.”

“ It was my fault. If it wasn’t for me and Josh-,” You stopped yourself before saying more. You didn’t want to talk about Josh, all you cared about was Peter but now, the thought was evident in Peter’s mind and he couldn’t seem to shake it out of him.

The image of you kissing Josh replayed in Peter’s head over and over again as his heart ached. Josh made things more complicated than they already were.

Peter’s biggest fear was losing you but to lose you to another guy? And yet, it still made Peter feel like he was between a rock and a hard place because Peter had only meant Josh on one occasion and it was enough to give Peter an idea that Josh didn’t have cruel intentions towards you.

Just because you loved Peter didn’t mean that you didn’t have feelings for Josh and that’s what made Peter crazy. You must’ve liked Josh enough to return the kiss right?

“ He’s a good guy, I see why you like him,” Peter finally said as he shifted awkwardly in his seat, not knowing what else to say,” he would make you happy.”

The comment shakes you in an uncomfortable way, was that supposed to make you feel better? Your annoyance was jealousy in disguise, you didn’t want to talk about Josh, you were here to tell Peter how you actually felt about him but because of how Peter was delivering it, it seemed like he was giving you an out.

“ It’s not- I don’t like Josh like that.”

“ You kissed him, I saw the whole thing. Do you just go around kissing people you supposedly don’t like?” Peter couldn’t help himself and let the words slip out so easily.

It was a low blow and the two of you both knew it. 

It took every fiber of your being not to lash out at the accusation because you knew Peter had a right to be upset but you didn’t like what he was insinuating and you didn’t want the conversation to take a bad turn,” You don’t have to worry about Josh anymore. If you want me to be honest, yes, I thought there was something there but things changed. I came to talk to you because my dad said you needed to tell me something important but if you’re going to just sit here and belittle me, I’m not gonna take it. I get it, the lovedust is messing with your emotions but I’m extremely sensitive tonight, more than usual so just come back to me when you’re calm.”

You got up from your seat with a quickness but before you could step off the patio, Peter grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards the corner of the bench.

Peter felt like such an idiot, whenever he got anxious on the fine details, he had a tendency to let the big picture escape him but it was something he knew he needed to work on while he was around you. He wasn’t going to let the conversation die just before it had started, he knew his big mouth tended to escalate conversations with you but he couldn’t let you go, not this time.

“ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just frustrated because this feels so one-sided. I never know what you’re thinking because you never tell me anything. You always avoid answering the question but I need more,” Peter practically begged as you felt yourself get a bit aggravated,” I am being calm but I’m desperate at this point. I need to know how you feel about me, don’t try to change the subject, I need to know. Tell me how I make you feel.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you pulled your hand away from Peter so you could regain your thoughts without him distracting you. You were suddenly chickening out, you had never felt so nervous in your entire life and you wanted to tell him how much you loved him. You wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear but it wasn’t easy taking a step forward when you don't know where your foot will fall.

“ This is hard for me Peter, I’m trying my best and I’m sorry if it isn’t good enough but ever since the lovedust, the dynamic is different and you’ve changed. It’s so much to get used to because of...how I feel towards you,” You said as Peter let out a frustrated breath.

He hated this feeling of going back and forth, he didn’t want to hear any of it. All he wanted was to just shake your shoulders because in his mind, you had no reason to be hesitant on opening up to him,” The lovedust didn’t change just me, it changed you too! I was vulnerable and I opened up to you, I showed you how I felt about you every second of the day but you have given me nothing!”

Nothing.

That word made your blood boil because nothing? Just because it was hard for you to let your emotions out didn’t mean Peter was getting nothing back in return. Since he was infected with the lovedust, you had been doing your best to open yourself more to him and you thought you had been doing a good job.

After all those years of Peter belittling you and tearing you down, of course, you would be a bit hesitant to let down your guard and yet, you did it anyway. It took so much to get to where you were comfortable with Peter to be vulnerable, especially when you broke down from your nightmare of your parents.

To break down and crumble in front of Peter wasn’t an accident, you could only be that vulnerable if you knew that he could help piece you back together.

“ Nothing? I gave you nothing?” You spat as you felt your eyes tear up,” I saved your life! I gave you the breath in my lungs to stop you from dying! I don’t owe you anything, I don’t need to prove shit to you!”

Peter stood up from the bench and while his heart ached from seeing you so upset, he knew that he couldn’t hold back,” Don’t pull that with me Y/N, you know you haven’t been honest with me. We both know that we can’t live without the other so don’t act like you did me a favor by saving me. Why won’t you admit it, even after everything we’ve been through, you’re still scared to just admit that you might love me!”

And just like that, you felt yourself let go.

“Of course I’m scared! I’m fucking terrified Peter! Is that what you want me to say? Do you want me to admit that me almost losing you would’ve broken me? Because you’re right! Yes, I love you!” You cried out as you took in a shaky breath,” I love you so much it hurts me and I didn’t understand how badly I loved you until I almost lost you! All I could think about when I was trying to save you was never hearing your laugh and never feeling your touch and I swear Peter, if you died, I would’ve never forgiven myself. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it but I love you.  But none of it matters, you know why? Because you’re sick in the head, the lovedust is fucking with you and now it’s fucking with me!”

There it was, finally. After all of that time denying it and trying to hide your feelings to save your own sanity, you finally confessed. You had so many chances to confess that yes, it really was him all along. 

When he came into your room and comforted you through your nightmare to the two of you shouting at each other in the rain, you had always loved him. 

Even though Peter knew how you felt about him, this was the first time he heard it with his own ears and it was like hearing the symphony for the first time. Like your own soundtrack that swelled during the climax of the movie that was you and Peter, Peter could listen to you say it over and over again.

He didn’t care that most of your confession involved a string of swear words because, without them, it wouldn’t have been your true self. He knew once he admitted to you that he was cured, there would be no going back.

“ The lovedust is gone Y/N. When you kissed me- or saved me by giving mouth to mouth- the lovedust flushed out of my system completely. Banner did extra tests and he confirmed that I’m okay and back to normal all because of you.”

Your heart dropped to the floor as your eyes raked up Peter, testing to see if he was lying but he didn’t falter. This is what you were afraid of, confessing everything to him only to find out that he didn’t love you anymore but who would’ve thought it would be you to make him go back to normal.

And yet, a huge part of you was relieved because finally, the lovedust was gone. You didn’t need to worry about it ever screwing with you and Peter again but as you studied his expression, your chest felt heavy.  

You had seemingly set up your own demise,” Oh, that’s good...I’m happy for you.”

You felt yourself take a step back but Peter reached his hand out to softly hold yours. You pulled your hand away but Peter swatted your stubbornness away and held your hand tighter. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles and when he looked back up at you, he felt his heart swell.

“ And yet, even though the pain is gone, I feel more love for you now than I have ever felt in my entire life. I understand what they mean when they say love hurts but if anything, it heals even more because you made me feel whole again. When you saved me and the first thing I saw was you looking back at me, it was like I was given a second chance to love you the right way, the way you were meant to be loved.”

“You were right, the lovedust made me fall in love with you but ever since you cured me, it was only a matter of admitting to myself that deep down, I’ve always cared about you. It opened my eyes and showed me that I will never have to look further in finding the one for me because you are everything and more,” Peter said as you moved your eyes from the floor to his figure,” I love you. I mean it. No exceptions, no strings attached, no lovedust required.”

Right then and there, you were at a loss for everything you could possibly hold; no words, no breath, no thoughts. Any resentment you held had shattered into microscopic pieces that would dissolve once crushed between something as delicate as your fingertips because he said everything you wanted to hear.

“ You love me?” You said quietly to where Peter made you repeat yourself,” Are you serious? Do you really mean it?”

Peter nodded and softly let out an ‘ of course I do’ as he brushed his fingers lightly over your cheek. He cupped your face gently with one hand as his thumb wiped away a stray tear,” Can I finally kiss you?”  

Peter’s cheeks grew red as you nodded and leaned into his touch, innocently brushing your lips against his. Peter dipped his head down to close the space between the two of you and kissed you so softly, you had to pull him closer to you to actually kiss him back.

Even though Peter was the one who asked, he felt completely unprepared kissing you back. He had imagined over and over how warm your lips would be against his but now that he was actually kissing you, he didn’t think he had enough self-control to ever stop kissing you.

You never knew a kiss could be innocent and yet so intimate but as his lips moved in perfect sync, any other logistics of the feeling went away because all you could think about was Peter. You practically melted into his touch but before you could savor the kiss, Peter pulled away breathless.

“ S-Sorry, I forgot to breathe,” Peter gushed as you smiled back up at him,” what does this mean for us now?”

You traced your finger along Peter’s wrist as you thought quietly,” I don’t know but we can figure it out together.”

Peter hummed happily before dipping his head down to kiss you and when he pulled away, he fell himself falling in love with you all over again.

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[alabasterswriting]

A Thousand Answers

Because I need more Anakin and Leia content, and I will fill that tag with my own two hands if I have to.

You can find it in AO3 format here, if you prefer that:)

Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She calls to him just once, reaching into the Force with the hesitance of a child and the determination of a grieving mother, and his response is immediate. Standing before her, a shimmering blue spectre of the past. He waits, giving her the courtesy of control. It’s kinder than the one he gave her in life.

He’s not what she expected, achingly young and handsome instead of the blackened monster of her nightmares. She’s not sure whether it helps or not, to see what was. The man she came from instead of the beast she knew. She supposes it doesn’t matter. A fresh body does not a fresh start make, and she doesn’t intend to give him that start. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She’s not the forgiving type and she has the feeling neither is he.

She hates the similarity, but it makes it easier. They know where they stand.

“I have a question for you,” she says. Her gaze rests on the horizon, unable to look at this man who looks so much like her brother and her son, with her chin and her countenance.

He tilts his head, the Force rippling around her with the sensation. “I figured you might.”

Yes, he did, didn’t he? He knew what happened. What she’s lost. How could he not? The dead see all, and all that philosophical shit that never did her any good. “I have tried, for weeks now, to figure out what I did wrong. How I could have made a difference,” so that I didn’t lose him. “And I realized, that no matter what I did, nothing made any sense. I couldn’t change anything because I didn’t even know anything was wrong and I just—” she stops. Swallows her words. Pushes the deluge of emotions to the side and takes a breath. She’s rambling. Rambling to a monster, a man she despises; calling out to a beast for the comfort a father should give to his daughter and hating it.

She takes another breath. A question, she has one question and that’s it. “I need to know. What was it for you? What happened to you? I couldn’t help him, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help you, and I’ll be damned if someone else ever has to face this ugly pit I’ve found myself clawing through. So tell me. What was it that happened in your life that was so bad you turned yourself into a monster?”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. Mulling it over, perhaps. Or maybe trying to find all the problems he’d faced and gift it to her as an excuse. She wonders if she’ll buy it. If it will somehow fill the black hole that’s mawed through her chest and give her some semblance of comfort.

How far she’s fallen. Looking for comfort from a monster.

He shifts above her. He’s too tall and she’s too short, and sitting on the ground gives her no favors in this regard, but the Force paints a picture in her mind of his movements as he drifts along the physical world to sit beside her. He’s not close. He wants to be, but he knows she wouldn’t appreciate it. They’re too alike and she knows that down to her marrow.

It’s a comfort that she doesn’t want, but takes anyway. A monster remembering his humanity.

“Do you want the truth, or a history lesson?” He asks. His voice is soft and boyish, so different from the booming mechanical bark in her memories.

She snorts. “I never liked history. It’s biased and painted over far too often by victors looking to rationalize their crimes.”

He nods. She can feel it like a warm breeze against her cheek. “True. We share that sentiment.”

“And yet you did it anyway.”

He shrugs. “As did you. History is written by the victors and you are a victor.”

“Your answer,” she states, because their victories were not the same and his history a figment of a blackened mind.

He stares at her. It prickles the hair along her neck and pulls her in until her gaze has drifted from blue skies to blue eyes. They’re electric and sad and commanding from one General to another. “My answer? I could give you a thousand answers, Leia, and none of them would be enough. There are no explanations I can give that would give you the answer you want, and there are not enough reasons in the galaxy to excuse what I did.”

“Then why? If there are no reasons, then why? Why did he—” no. 

“I said that there were no reasons to excuse it, not that there were not reasons at all.” He leans in and she despises how much comfort it brings her. How warm he feels in the Force, for all that it soothes her because if a monster like Darth Vader can be that warm then surely there’s hope. “But I made a choice, Leia. I did. Not Obi-Wan. Not your mother. Not the Jedi or Palpatine. Me. Just as your son made his choice. Whatever part you played in his reasons are not an excuse for his actions, and wherever he goes from here are up to him.”

She swallows. It’s acid in her throat and a pressure behind her eyes. She hates how he can pick her apart to find the truths she hides from herself. The blame she’s trying to place. She searches his face for something -- anything that she can grab hold of and use to pull herself up from the depths she’s fallen into. “Can he come back? Like you?”

He smiles. It looks like Luke. It looks like her. It looks like her son. “Anyone can come back. It’s just a matter of wanting to.”

“And if he doesn’t want to?”

“Then that’s his choice.” He raises his hand to brush aside the tear on her cheek, before thinking better of it and bringing to his lap. She’s not sure why that hurts. “You can’t make his choices for him.”

“Then what can I do?”

“Fight. Hope. Keep him in your heart and remember who he was even when he forgets, then get up and move forward. You can’t go back, Leia, and you can’t force him to be someone he doesn’t want to be.”

Her throat is scraped raw as she says, “It hurts.”

“It does. But if there’s anything I know about you, it’s that you don’t give up when there’s still work to do.”

“Learn that from the Force, did you?”

He smirks. It’s lopsided and reminds her of a puppy. “Actually, I learned that from a young girl who lied to my face after being caught blatantly performing treason.”

“Yes, well, treason seems to be my middle name.”

“Hm, Leia Treason Organa. Catchy.”

“Fits better than Leia Amidala Skywalker.”

“I don’t know. I’m quite partial to that one.”

“You don’t get to be partial to it. She doesn’t exist.”

“No, I guess she doesn’t,” and it aches, somewhere inside her and inside the Force that that’s true. But the Force isn’t kind, and neither is the past, and Leia Organa has never had the luxury.

“Your mother would be proud, at least. Both of them.”

Her mother, the Queen of Alderaan, who wiped away tears and taught her strength, and her mother, the Queen of Naboo, who loved her despite never knowing her.

“And my father?”

He smirks. It’s sad, twisted with the knowledge of where they stand. “Immeasurably.”

“I don’t mean you.”

“I know.”

But he is. And she did. A little. She’ll give him this, and allow herself the fantasy.

Leia Organa does not spend long in fantasies. She shutters her gaze and pulls back. “Will you help him, then, while I’m off committing treason? Talk to him, or whatever it is dead people do in the Force.”

“I can’t talk to him, Leia. He won’t listen.”

“He might.” She’s not a fool. She knows how her son took Darth Vader into his mind and twisted him into an ideal to strive for. He may not listen to her, with all that hatred and resentment she still doesn’t understand, but he may for a man he thinks he wants to be. “He idolizes you. He wants to be you. And I hate you, but I love him, and if a man like you can come back, then maybe he can too.”

“He has to want it first.”

“So tell him that. Make him want it.”

“Not quite how it works.”

“Luke made you.”

“Luke was a catalyst,” the ghost stresses. “But wanting, Leia. No one can make you want it, except yourself. Because wanting it means accepting you were wrong. It means accepting that all your rationalizations were just that. I means taking responsibility for what you’ve done, and that is significantly harder than just deciding to be good. It’s seeing what you were capable of, taking in all that horror and monstrosity, and accepting it. No one can make him do that, Leia. Not even me.”

“He idolizes you.” “He idolizes my mistakes. He idolizes my shame and horror and regrets. He doesn’t want Anakin Skywalker. He wants Darth Vader, and one does not exist without the other.”

And her son will not accept that. The knowledge stomps the pieces of her heart into powdered glass and she turns away. “So you can do nothing. You are just as powerless as I.”

For once. For the first time. The one time she wants him omnipotent and he’s all too human.

He nods, despondent, with her heartbreak in his eyes. “I can watch him for you. I can be a hand on his shoulder. But I can no more bring back your son than Obi-Wan could bring back me.”

“He has to do that himself.”

“Yes.”

She nods once, pulling together the shavings of her heart and gluing them together. It’s depressing how good she’s gotten at doing so. “I understand. Watch him, then. If no one else can, then...watch him.” Care for him, she wants to say. Love him. No one else will at this point and he will not let her in to do so. 

He softens. The Force of him wraps her in a warm blanket and she thinks he understands what she can’t say. “I will.”

I’ll care for him, she hears. I’ll love him, until he lets you back in to do it yourself. 

A promise of love from a monster shouldn’t bring her such peace, but if her family is to be made up of monsters and men and gods, then perhaps it’s time she learned to embrace it. She’s spent her whole life running from him and his legacy, and it’s only brought her pain.

Leia bows her head. Not forgiveness, not benediction, not even acceptance, but a chance. Recognition for the man he was and the man he’s trying to be again. “Thank you, Master Skywalker.”

Anakin smiles, like a puppy that has since grown old, and returns the gesture. “Always, Master Organa.”

And he’s gone, as if he was never there in the first place. A hole in her life. But the Force is warm around her, waiting for her to reach out again. She’s not sure she will. She’s not sure she wants to. But the choice is nice.

An olive branch should she ever decide to take it.

Around her, the world pulls back into focus. Naboo roses, fragrant and sweet, waft in from the garden and the crystal waters glimmer under the sunlight. It’ll be dark soon. Already, the air is beginning to chill.

She gets up, picking up her skirts and ambling back inside. There’s work to do and an uncertain future ahead.

Her son made his choices. It’s time she made hers.

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

okay now that we’re in the middle of a hiatus and the fandom is mostly calmed down

I’m one of the very few people who’s actually hoping for a Lila redemption arc? I don’t want her to be friends with Adrien or Marinette or anyone she’s really really hurt, but she is still like 14 and we don’t know her full story and I honestly want to see her grow and be a person and make some actual friends and get some hobbies. Again, I think she’s burned the bridge with a few characters, but that doesn’t mean she can’t ever be friends with anyone else

and anyway, my ideal takedown/ redemption arc for Lila is one where she unknowingly lies about having several disabilities that other students in the class actually do have

BUT I don’t want it in a “oh actually, Lila, you dumb fool, I have real medically diagnosed tinnitus, so I know that’s not how it works, haha everyone look at Lila the stupid liar” kind of way

I want them to be like stupid levels of understanding and try to bond with her

(detailed explanation of my Lila arc under the cut, obviously don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with the idea of Lila being redeemed)

Lila is like “oh... actually... I can’t participate in the PE final... I have scoliosis... that I just found out about right now” and Juleka is like “oh! I have scoliosis too!” and Lila is panicking because she’s about to be called a fraud, but instead Juleka just happily sits with her for the entire PE final and rambles about stuff and is super happy to have a bench buddy

Alix mentions that she has tinnitus and Lila is like “wait what? why aren’t you in front of the class?” and Alix is like “oh, for me it’s kind of a waves thing? on good days, I can hear her from anywhere in the classroom, and on bad days, nothing can really help me hear? so Ms. Bustier just gives me lecture notes that I can read and it works for me.” And Lila is completely expecting to be called a fraud but Alix is just like “it’s super cool that it does help you, though! everyone’s different! If you ever want to compare notes about what helps, you can text me!”

Lila starts to say the beginning of a well practiced and overly researched speech about how she can’t go on a field trip because she has a super rare medical condition and Max just pulls her aside and is like “hey, I know it can be scary and you feel like you have to justify yourself, but you really don’t have to give super personal information all the time. It’s totally fine if you are comfortable, but really, I know from personal experience that Ms Bustier and this class are super understanding. You can just say ‘personal reasons’ or something and we’ll all leave you alone. You’re allowed to have privacy.” and Lila is like “huh”

this is getting long but basically, eventually she talks to someone in the class with ADHD or anxiety, I’m going to say Alya for now, so she literally catches Lila lying about knowing some celebrity, and instead of being angry or judgemental she’e super discreet about it, she pulls her aside like “hey, I know it feels hard to make friends, but I promise you, people do think you’re interesting as you are, and we care more about you than the people you know.” and she doesn’t even call Lila out for lying? she’s literally just like “u dont have to know celebrities”

and then Lila actually finds out that there’s at least one actual compulsive liar in the class. And, if you didn’t know, Lila’s not an actual compulsive liar, and I’m not going to get into a rant about that now but... She lies on purpose, and tells planned lies with an agenda, whereas compulsive liars don’t usually plan to lie or have a reason for lying. So anyway, Lila gets actually caught lying, and someone, lets just say Nino for the sake of picking a character, is like “hey i know its hard but you do still have to apologize, even if you did your best, you still messed up and you’ve got to own up to it. I believe you that you’re trying to be better but you can’t just use mental illness as an excuse.” and Lila pulls out the fake tears and is like “you don’t understand-” and Nino is (not in a rude way, just trying to be kind) like “I can’t understand you exactly, no, but I literally did have a problem with compulsive lying and I have a therapist, so if you want to talk about it I probably understand more than you know” and Lila is like “oh.”

and anyway, Lila’s arc doesn’t come through someone she’s harassed trying to defend her, and it doesn’t come from her being traumatized into being nice, it just comes from her classmates treating her like a human person, and doing their best to understand her while also actually finding ways to make things accessible to her so she stops being able to get out of things. And then it turns to “hey Lila, just so you know, you don’t HAVE to give explanations for not wanting to go places, you can just SAY if you’re uncomfortable.” and she starts getting called out on it a little bit more, but in a friendly way. Her classmates are just like “Lila please just tell us what you want, I don’t need your medical history, I’m not going to do a background check, just, say you want to borrow a jacket and I’ll let you borrow it. I literally have an extra hoodie”

But simultaneously, everyone with a disability “in common” with her starts latching on to her and opening up, and they actually hold her accountable for listening to their needs. And Lila, who already has the mindset of “oh u are legally required to help Disabled Person or everyone will hate you,” which is literally the basis of half of her plans, is now surrounded by classmates who are asking for her help with reading things because they’re dyslexic, or asking her to grab a textbook from across the room, and asking her if she has any heating pads, and, well, Mylene actually bought her some heating pads when she was faking having cramps earlier, so she might as well lend those out so that she can get more credit with her classmates

And it’s not because she *cares* obviously, she’s just doing it to get them to rely on her, and to get on their good side

and then she’s invited to join the disabled students activism club, and it would look suspicious if she didn’t join, so she agrees, and then whoops, she is now working to do actual charity work-- because it’s really nice to have such solid evidence for her claims, and some charity work that she can actually point to solid evidence for if she ever gets called out-- and honestly it is pretty stupid that its so hard to get accommodations on tests for students with anxiety, because aren’t those the students who are the most afraid to talk to the teachers-- not that Lila cares. And it’s super dumb that no one even knows proper etiquette for helping people in wheelchairs,, and people keep Leaving Things in the Hallways that make it too narrow, and-- Lila doesn’t care at all though, and she definitely doesn’t care about her “friends” in the club because they’re not her friends, and she totally does not cry when she finds out that most of them are literally self-diagnosed, and then it turns out that Mylene was actually wrong, and she probably doesn’t have Lyme disease like she thought, and no one judges her or treats her any different? they’re all just like “oh thats great! glad you could keep getting new information!”

and Lila realizes that literally no one will be mad if it turns out she doesn’t have any disabilities. Except also, she’s starting to become more and more sure that she Does have several things wrong with her, because apparently it’s Not Normal to feel constantly on guard when she’s around other people, and apparently it’s Not Normal to just have days where you literally cannot drag yourself out of bed in the morning and then get hit with terror that if you tell anyone about how numb you feel they’ll immediately think you’re unworthy as a human being, and she’s like, oh, huh, i should  look into that

and anyway Lila doesn’t even try to be a good person at first she just wakes up one day and is like “what the heck when did i get actual friends and passions and hobbies,, i did not sign up for this” but she does start making an effort to be worthy of them and she ends up growing a whole ton once she’s given a support system

and anyway i know lots of people are uncomfy with Lila and that’s fine, but i’m continuously a sucker for “evil devil child is actually a pretty decent human being once their basic needs are met and they feel safe” trope

[artificialqueens]

Something More (Taywhora) - pureCAMP

A/N - Hi Ortega, love you xx

Here’s a cheeky little girl band au in which A'Whora is sort of in love with her bandmate, Lawrence is sort of in love with her makeup artist, and Bimini has no idea what’s going on. Enjoy, bing bang bong <3

Death by a thousand cuts lingers on A’Whora’s mind. There seems to be a million ways to express how she’s feeling; the straw that broke the camel’s back, the final tipping point. The way that little things just build and build and build until their crushing weight is suddenly made noticeable to the poor fool trapped beneath them, already without any hope of survival.

Maybe she’s being dramatic, maybe poetic. Maybe that’s why she’s good at writing lyrics, why she scribbles them down in glittery notebooks that Lawrence makes fun of her for buying. They can hardly use what she writes in her free time, the need for fun, relatable and light-hearted lyrics far outweighing the demand for her emotional ramblings, but nevertheless she’s still alright at it.

More than anything, it’s the numbness that bothers her. This pain isn’t jarring, soul destroying, artistically tragic like she wishes it was. She mostly feels an ever-present nothing, with the occasional empty hole like a vacuum in her stomach that weighs on her late at night, alone in bed. The feeling is heavy and cold, but she can’t describe it any better than that. She’s tried, and the scrunched up paper and furiously crossed out words provide more than enough explanation as to how that endeavour went.

Is she ridiculous to be angry over wanting a little communication, knowing she herself hasn’t done it either? Is she hypocritical for internally begging Tayce to explain when she knows full well she’s not explained her side?

Whatever the answer, she’s an idiot for hooking up with her bandmate.

Sighing frustratedly, she throws her pencil across the room, likely to never be seen again, and shuts her notebook. The pencil flies through the air and hits the wall just as Lawrence enters, missing her head by mere centimetres. She reels backwards out of shock and then clings onto the doorframe, one hand on her heaving chest.

“Fuck me! You trying to kill me or something?” Lawrence demands, her expressions every bit as big and blown up as they are on stage.

A’Whora flops onto her bed as Lawrence sits on hers - they’re sharing the hotel room, Tayce and Bimini paired up across the hall.

“Not you, babes.” She rolls her eyes at herself, stretching her legs out as her head crashes into the pillow.

Lawrence snorts. “Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s far from fucking paradise and you know it, you nasty bitch.” A’Whora shoots back, relieved that neither of them are stupid enough to interpret any malice in the harsh way they speak to one another.

Truth be told, A’Whora and Tayce’s hooking up is probably the worst kept secret in all their band management. Tayce seems to think nobody knows, and she’s all the happier for it, but A’Whora knows for a fact that Lawrence, the entire style team and their management all know what’s going on - it’s really only Bimini, bless her, who’s in the dark about it. The second worst kept secret is Lawrence and their makeup artist, Ellie, but that’s the farthest from A’Whora’s mind currently.

“It used to be fun, you know what I mean, like? Like it’s just me and Tayce and we’re having a good time and everything, there’s no pressure for dating or nothing like that, ‘cause she weren’t ready for it.”

Lawrence blinks. “Am I supposed to be sensing a problem here, or?”

A’Whora groans. “Shut up, bitch, I’m trying to do a fucking monologue for you! Anyway, it’s just weird because I swear like I haven’t done anything and nothing’s changed at all but her texts are really friendly rather than like flirty now?”

“And you haven’t sent me off to Ellie’s room in a while so the two of you can fuck like rabbits.” Lawrence finishes, a sly grin on her face knowing that she’s just pissed A’Whora right off by interrupting the aforementioned monologue.

Crude as she is, she’s right - and A’Whora probably would’ve worded it in a way more disgusting manner herself. It’s a decent system that they’ve rigged up, honestly. Whenever Tayce texts, or A’Whora texts her, she sends Lawrence off to go find Ellie, makes up some lie about why their bandmate isn’t sleeping in their room tonight, and then they can spend some quality time together. It’s simple but efficient, hence its brilliance.

“Sorry babes. You know you can still go see her even if I’m not seeing Tayce?”

Lawrence snorts. “Nah, you’re fine. To be honest she’s fucked me right off recently so I’m not in the mood to see her.”

It’s horrible, but A’Whora’s secretly glad that she’s not the only one entangled in some kind of romantic or sexual turmoil. “Aw, what did she do?”

“None of your business, you nosy bitch!” Lawrence half-yells, but bizarrely, she’s still not mad. “You were ranting about your secret lover?”

“Fuck off,” She shoots back, “I was done, anyway. She’s just, like, reset. I don’t get it.”

She’s not strong enough to confide what she really thinks. It clouds her mind constantly, a small part of her brain daring her to just come out and say it in the malicious hope that she’ll find out how it feels to broadcast. Her stupid, selfish brain is worried that Tayce has met someone, someone she likes, someone she’d be willing to, or interested in, pursuing a romantic relationship with. Because romance has never been part of their deal, something they’d agreed on. Romance was off the table for Tayce because she wasn’t ready, and A’Whora was fine with that.

Maybe she was in the wrong for going along with the hook ups and flirting under false pretences. A’Whora had hoped, secretly, that over time, Tayce’s aversion to love and commitment might begin to soften, and surely the most natural, safe way to ease into it would be with someone who she already knew could have a fun flirty rapport with her, not to mention a metric fuckton of sexual chemistry?

Behind every flirty text held the secret hope that Tayce’s feelings would one day find the strength to break out. A’Whora hadn’t meant to get attached to her bandmate like she had, but there seemed to be fuck all she could do about it now.

“Well,” Lawrence announces, rolling onto her back and gesturing up in the air with her arms, “You’re fucked off, I’m fucked off, I say we go and get absolutely steamin’ and forget that we’ve ever felt a positive emotion towards someone who doesn’t give a fuck.”

A’Whora closes her eyes, heart sinking. “I’d actually love to, but we can’t just go the two of us, because then we’re leaving out the others. Bims’ll wanna come, and if Bims comes we have to invite Tayce and I literally don’t wanna see her because it’s so weird that I’ve been like, demoted to friend.”

“She removed the benefits,” Lawrence nods understandingly, “In many ways, we could compare her to the Tory government.”

“Could we fuck,” A’Whora laughs in spite of her own heavy misery. “You’re literally insane. Loz, what the fuck do I do about this?”

Lawrence shrugs. “I told you, my best solution is to go and get smashed! If we just drink here then we didn’t go out without anyone so we didn’t break any friend rules and they’re none the fucking wiser to our collective romance issues.”

The word romance makes A’Whora tense - it’s uncomfortable to think about it like that, almost embarrassing to dwell on her own feelings as having a romantic nature about them from a purely sexual relationship. Luckily for her, a sneaky or perhaps Freudian slip catches her attention and drags it away from her own issue, A’Whora bolting upright to stare at her friend.

“Lawrence Chaney. Did you just say collective romance issues? I thought you and Ellie were just fanny friends!”

Understandably, Lawrence is horrified at her turn of phrase, but A’Whora doesn’t miss the telltale reddening of her ears that suggests she’s said something she shouldn’t have. An eye-roll powerful enough to induce a tsunami follows Lawrence shifting herself up, glaring at A’Whora, and then scowling.

“First,” She replies, one finger wagging in front of her, “Never fucking say fanny friends ever again. Second…”

A’Whora gasps, already anticipating some gossip.

“You’re gonna get me a fucking gin if you’re gonna make me talk about this.”

-

More intelligent girls, or perhaps just less heartache-y ones, would know better than to get wasted in their hotel room the night before a show, but A’Whora and Lawrenced have never been the best at smart decisions. Ironically, it’s the deceptively smart bimbo Bimini who usually is able to reign them in, though she often chooses not to. Left to their own devices, there’s a lot of gin and a little bit of lemonade that seems to mysteriously disappear as tongues get looser and inhibitions get lowered. Before they even know what’s happening, both girls are sitting on the floor between their beds, legs stretched out before them, bemoaning their woeful, humiliating love lives.

It’s almost as if they think that if they don’t get it right now, they never will. To some extent, in A’Whora’s mind, that’s true, even when she knows, realistically, that she’s only in her mid-twenties and life goes on. But really, what is love if not an agony freezing you in time, a force that makes the past a mere blur and the future non-existent? Love is present and now, and if she misses her chance, who says there’ll be another?

(Almost everyone says there will. But A’Whora is drunk and her words are happy and her mind is sad.)

Luckily, Lawrence has been talking for long enough that A’Whora doesn’t have to spill all her thoughts into a drunken spiel that she knows wouldn’t make a lick of sense. She keeps swearing and avoiding the point, but somewhere in her long-winded ramble confessions start to unravel themselves, and a good scandal is enough to distract her for the time being.

“So I fuckin’ - aw fuck, hen, do me a favour and refill me?” Lawrence asks, A’Whora just passing her the bottle and gesturing for her to continue. “I fuckin’ asked her, y’know, are we just doing this or are we something more, like, fuckin’ stupid thing to ask honestly and I regretted it as soon as I did but then she answered and fuck me.”

She makes an effort to impersonate Ellie - a slightly higher pitched, slightly less intensely Scottish accent with something of a mockingly nervous whine to it as she repeats, “I’m keeping my options open. Fuckin’ options! I’ve no’ had anyone since her and I wouldny’ fuckin’ want to either and she’s fuckin’ got A, B, C or D all the fuckin’ above! It’s fucked.”

A’Whora gasps. “Bitch, you proper like her! You like Ellie!”

“Say that any louder and I’ll box your fuckin’ ears,” Lawrence threatens, only half kidding judging by the glare in her eyes. “Am I wrong to feel fuckin’ betrayed that I didn’t know she was seeing others as well as me?”

She snorts. “Loz, babes, I’m losing my mind at the very idea that Tayce has found someone, look who you’re talking to.”

Lawrence shrugs in agreement. “Makes me feel sick.”

There’s a pause. “Actually, that might be the gin.”

Another pause. “Oh, it’s the gin.”

She all but launches herself up and towards the bathroom, A’Whora instantly going into a flap. If Lawrence is sick on the carpet she’ll literally never forgive her, but she needs to help her friend, but fuck if she’s gonna stand there in the bathroom gagging at her. She decides, vaguely last minute, to run out into the corridor and grab some cold water from the machine, panicking and shouting her plan in the general direction of the bathroom before dashing outside. Embarrassing, but at twenty five years old A’Whora still can’t handle someone being sick.

A brief but unwelcome thought flits into her head - I’d help Tayce. She shakes it away, tells herself she wouldn’t, but a sad stupid part of her knows she could sit there and painfully gag her way through helping Tayce if she needed to, because she’s a spineless idiot who fell for her bandmate. There’s a flash of guilt for the fact that she wouldn’t do the same for Bims or Lawrence, but reasons that she has to draw the line somewhere.

The hotel has this awful chintzy carpet, a weird swirly print on a red base that reminds A’Whora of weird-smelling care homes and outdated grandma’s houses. Just looking at it makes her head spin uncomfortably - maybe she’s a little drunker than she thought. Perhaps she’ll get two cups of ice water instead, sober herself up a bit and all.

Then Tayce is standing in front of her all of a sudden and A’Whora has no idea how she’s got there.

(Did she… summon Tayce? Manifest her presence?)

“Girl, you alright? You look a state,” She greets, her accent charming enough to rid the words of their potential offense.

A’Whora vaguely points ahead of her, aware of how dumb she probably looks. “Goin… getting water for Loz. She’s absolutely pissed.”

Tayce laughs, baffled. “Babes, what are you playing at getting drunk the night before a show? Gotta make sure you shake off the hangovers before or else you’re done for!”

“Water fixes all.” A’Whora has no idea what to say. Why would she? She’s been lamenting this girl’s very existence for the past…. God knows how many hours, and now she’s here and she has to slip the besties facade back on except she’s a bit too drunk to remember how to do it properly. Sober A’Whora is going to cringe for days over this, she already knows.

Unsurprisingly, Tayce starts to follow her to grab the water, declaring “Well I’m coming with you, sounds like you’re gonna need someone sober to put you both in bed, you absolute lunatics.”

They’re just walking next to each other and yet A’Whora has never analysed her own way of walking so much in her life before this moment. Are her steps too large? Her arms swinging too much, or too little? Which foot comes next? Is Tayce thinking about how weirdly she’s moving? Should she be trying to keep pace with her or will that be even weirder and she’ll realise what a creep she’s been hooking up with all this time and fully decide against any possibility of something more between them?

They’re just walking. Just one foot and then the next.

Ahead of them, the water cooler glistens like a mirage in a desert, a tantalising goal signalling the end of their journey. A’Whora almost feels like she’s been trekking for hours next to Tayce, unsure of what to say, unsure of what her own act to keep up with is.

Naturally, she fumbles in her attempt to get a flimsy plastic cup from the stack, and then all come crashing down before she can even realise what’s happening. She turns to look at Tayce, the both of them momentarily stunned.

“Oh my god, you absolute beast!” Tayce screeches, her voice hushed for the sake of the late night but laughing all the same, clutching the cooler for balance. “We gotta pick all these up now!”

They do; A’Whora thinks about accidentally brushing her fingers over Tayce’s as they scramble to get everything, and then doesn’t. She thinks about abandoning the water and fumbling keys into locks until they fall into one another and forget everything else. She thinks about just blurting out the truth.

By the time all of the potential scenarios have flown dizzyingly through A’Whora’s drunk mind, she finds herself with two cups of water in her hands, Tayce with the same, leading her back to the hotel room and giggling as she instructs her not to spill a drop. A’Whora laughs, pretending like she’s not struggling to figure out how tightly she should be holding them.

Pretend is easy and she’s always been good at it. Pretending she’s a real rockstar with her Sing Star microphone and Playstation 2 in the living room. Pretending she’s not nervous the day before the biggest audition of her life. Pretending she’s a real musician in a band and not one of four girls shitting themselves backstage at the biggest arenas in the city. Pretending like Tayce might fall for her one day.

Once they get inside - it takes four swipes of A’Whora’s key and brief panic that she’s somehow got the wrong one - it’s clear that Lawrence is done with throwing her guts up and has settled herself in a chair, furiously typing on her phone.

“This room smells like a minibar, you hounds!” Tayce half admonishes, her grin entirely downplaying her words and making A’Whora’s heartbeat jump into overdrive. “Lawrence, what are you doing?”

“Communicating-my-feelings,” She answers through gritted teeth, each word punctuated with a particularly aggressive stab at her screen.

Out of curiosity, A’Whora peeks at the screen, and upon seeing a horrifically large wall of text typed out in the chat box with no end in sight, snatches the phone immediately. “Tayce! Hide it! She’s writing a fucking essay!”

Whether A’Whora’s drunk coordination is better than when she’s sober - hopefully not - or Tayce is just talented, she deftly catches the device and locks it.

Lawrence all but springs up, incensed. “Fuck off with that! Ellie needs to know- I’m fucking pissed!”

“Ellie?” Tayce pauses, looking down as if she’ll still see the message. “As in, makeup artist Ellie?”

“Who fuckin’ else?!” Lawrence lunges and misses.

“Knew it.” She’s adorably smug, so much so that A’Whora decides against telling her that literally everyone knows. Her perceived victory makes her face light up and she’s already so beautiful that ruining childlike glee like that should be considered blasphemous. It would be a sin to wipe that smile from her face using anything other than her lips.

She holds the phone up in the air above her head, unreachable. “Right. Well, Lawrence, you can have this back after you’ve drank this water here, brushed your teeth and got into bed, okay? I think that’s a fair deal.”

“Get fucked,” Lawrence responds, totally deadpan as she snatches the plastic cup, spilling half of it down her front and not noticing. “I will drink your magic water and then you will fuck off and I will tell Ellie that she’s a slimey wee bitch.”

Tayce laughs, unfazed. “On second thoughts, darling…” She tucks the phone into her bra and gives a little flourish. “Sort yourself out and I’ll get it back to you in the morning. I’m not having you abusing our lovely Ellie ‘cause you’ve had a lover’s tiff.”

Lawrence squints. “Fuckin’… A’Whora will get it for me. I’m sure you won’t mind feeling her up, eh hen? Though I bet your girlfriend might have something to say about it. OOP!”

A’Whora feels her face flushing, and the panic slams into her like a wave hitting the beach full force, washing over everything. At first she was glad Lawrence was drunker than her, hoping to make less of a fool of herself in front of Tayce and direct the attention onto their favourite Scottish menace, but Lawrence being drunker means Lawrence with an even looser tongue, and for someone who loves to crack a joke and make a cheeky observation at the most inopportune moment, A’Whora finds herself wishing she’s passed out snoring instead. Tayce just laughs and manages to mother hen her into the bathroom, where A’Whora spots her in the mirror, grumpily brushing her teeth like a petulant toddler in the midst of a tantrum.

“Tell you what, I could never have kids, this is bloody exhausting!” Tayce explains, her big bright smile distracting A’Whora, thankfully, from the bulge of Lawrence’s phone. At least, it’s easier to pretend, even mentally, that that’s why she keeps looking at her chest.

“God, I know!” She laughs back, faking it harder than ever and sipping her cup of water. She feels sobered up already, though she’s sure she’s probably not, all too aware of her red cheeks and Lawrence’s loose tongue and terrified something else will be said.

“I mean, what on earth was that? I don’t have a girlfriend, I can tell you that.” She chuckles as if the idea’s ridiculous. A’Whora wonders if she genuinely thinks that, if she doesn’t realise just how many beautiful men and women would fall down at her feet if she so much as paid them a glance.

Lawrence stumbles out; in the two minutes she’s been gone, she seems to have forgotten entirely about her phone, and she looks at the pair with lidded eyes. “Fuckin’ shattered, girls.”

Tayce beams at her. “Get your arse in bed, then!”

A’Whora finishes her water, and Lawrence is asleep in seconds. For good measure, they poke her a couple of times, but since she’s very clearly breathing and seems fine, they decide to stop tormenting her and to just let the poor girl sleep. Tayce sets down Lawrence’s phone on the nightstand next to her, making sure to plug in her charger so it won’t be dead when she wakes up, and the tiny act of thoughtfulness makes A’Whora’s heart swell in a manner she’s wholly embarrassed of.

As if she’s swooning at a girl charging her friend’s phone? It’s ridiculous and she knows it.

“Shall I walk you to your door?” She offers, holding her arm out. Tayce laughs and takes hold of her elbow, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Ooh, promenade!”

“You’ve been watching far too much Bridgerton, you have,” A’Whora teases her, jabbing her side as they make their way back down the empty corridor. “Do I have to start calling you My Lady or something, babes?”

Tayce swats her away. “In bed, maybe. Oh, I’ll happily be a Duke or a Duchess, I mean have you seen the pair of them? Bloody gorgeous!”

A’Whora’s chest seizes up at the casual mention of being in bed together. Is the stalemate over? Is Tayce about to explain why she’s suddenly frozen on her and decided she no longer wants to hook up? What the hell even is the reason if there’s no girlfriend? She’s just gone off A’Whora now?

“Oh my God. Tayce, I can’t do this.”

It’s out there. She can’t go back now, can’t reel it back in. She’s fucked.

Tayce stops mid-hallway and frowns, worried. “You alright? If you don’t feel well you can go back, you don’t have to walk me to my room.”

“No, not that,” A’Whora massages her temples, trying to encourage some kind of eloquent thought to help her out, trying to stimulate the part of her brain that writes lyrics, to no avail. “This, us, the weirdness, I can’t do it. I have to know what’s going on, I’m literally going spare over it.”

“I don’t- I don’t get what you mean.”

“Us!” A’Whora cries, then shushes herself, acutely aware of her volume and the people sleeping adjacent to their conversation. “You- you don’t text me the same, and we haven’t- in ages, and I just… Tayce, do you like me?”

Tayce frowns even deeper. “Of course I like you, Rory.”

“Do you proper like me? Do you like me like I like you?”

She feels like a child, enacting a schoolgirl crush with a scribbled note that asks them to tick a yes or no box drawn in pink felt tip, the kind fuzzy from little fingers pressing too hard. If anything, it’s worse than that; at least some prior planning went into those, and a clear question with a yes or no response indicating some kind of confidence. A’Whora has no idea what she’s doing, where she’s going, anything.

“Rory… do you-”

A’Whora cuts her off. “Lawrence thought you might have a girlfriend because I thought you might have one because I was ranting about us to her and how shit I feel that you’ve lost interest in me. We got drunk to ignore how shit we both feel and it didn’t work because she almost blabbed to Ells and now I’m here blabbing to you but I literally can’t help myself. I never can when I’m with you.”

It’s only when she’s finished that she realises Tayce’s expression is full of fear, and her heart sinks like a lead balloon.

“You told Lawrence about us?”

She swallows, guilt seeping in like cracks in a dam. “Tayce, I… We’re not the big secret you think we are. A lot of people know, or suspect. Is… Is that the issue?”

Tayce chews her lip, eyebrows furrowed. Every millisecond that she doesn’t speak is agony, each second another stab to A’Whora’s heart, tiny needles of time cutting into her as she waits and waits for the ugly truth. This is it, now, the swirling nausea in her stomach tells her, this is when it all ends. This is where you scare off the love of your life.

The… what? The fucking what? The who of her what?

Too late now.

“I haven’t lost interest in you. I don’t think that’s even possible. I’m like, obsessed with you.”

A’Whora freezes, expecting virtually anything but that. “You- what? But- huh?”

“Yeah!” Tayce laughs nervously, unsure of how to react - they have that in common, at least. “I mean, girl, look at you, you’re gorgeous. I was getting freaked out by how much I, like, feel, so I just shut everything down and denied it all. I mean, I figured if I was freaking myself out, you must think I’m a right old weirdo. Have I got this all wrong?”

The ice melts. A’Whora can feel the shards shrinking, the wounds closing up, the warmth returning to her in a blossoming not unlike the flowers of spring, freshening the air and sweeping away her anxieties.

“I’ve never been so happy to call you an idiot in my life,” A’Whora tells her.

Tayce cocks an eyebrow. “You dirty liar, you love calling me an idiot,” She bites back, not leaving room for A’Whora to reply before kissing her right then and there, in the middle of a hotel corridor, leaning up against the wall for support. A million chemical reactions spark off all at once, a frenzy of activity rendering her incapable of doing anything but wrapping her arms around her bandmate, her best friend, her everything, and kissing her until she can’t breathe.

When they have to come up for air they do, all gasping and pink cheeks and dazed eyes. Every cell, every nerve, every neuron in A’Whora’s body is awake and alive, drawn towards Tayce like a magnetic pull. She can’t ignore it, and can’t think why she’d ever want to.

-

“Will you fucking stay still?”

“I haven’t moved an inch, hen, your shaky hands are not my problem.”

Ellie huffs, big pink earrings dangling from her ears swinging as she moves her head. They’re shaped like hearts, the word ‘doll’ in cursive across the middle in sparkling letters, and it’s adorably Ellie Diamond in every way possible. Even irritated, she’s oddly cute.

“Lawrence! I’m not trying to make you look ugly, stay still for me!” She pleads.

A’Whora watches from her chair, face already expertly done. She woke up pleasantly early, nestled happily in Tayce’s arms after everything. They’d decided to go back to A’Whora’s room, just in case Lawrence woke up and tried to send reams of abuse to Ellie, and ended up laying together cuddling until they fell asleep. No matter how sober A’Whora swore she was, Tayce just giggled and told her there was no chance of anything more than a cwtch, at least until the morning.

Thankfully, they’d kept Lawrence’s phone away from her, but there was nothing she could do but watch helplessly as Ellie and Lawrence engaged in a battle of attrition while doing makeup.

Lawrence rolls her eyes so hard A’Whora can practically feel it from across the room. “Not to worry hen, there’s more than one girl in the band, I’m sure you’ve got options on who can look pretty and who can’t.”

A’Whora winces at the low blow, and judging by Ellie’s expression, all pouty lips and big sad eyes, she’s hurt. More than anything, she wants to rush in and fix things for them, help them do the big talk and work it all out, but she knows it’s not really her business. They have to do this for themselves, so she sits quiet and prays that they will.

“Oh my god.” Ellie sets down her brushes and stares Lawrence in the face, awfully bold and completely unexpected. “Are you gonna hang this over me forever? I just - didn’t want you to think I was too forward! I’ve been regretting it all night, I regretted it as soon as I even said it! I can’t stand you being upset with me.”

Lawrence’s expression softens. “What?”

“You’re, like, the best person ever. I look up to you so much, I don’t think I could admire anyone more than I admire you. I really didn’t mean to upset you, I didn’t want to come on too strong.”

There’s a pause - A’Whora holds her breath, and notices that just across from her, Bimini is suddenly paying attention, her phone long since abandoned in her hand as she gapes at the two of them, dumbfounded.

Lawrence throws her arms around Ellie, squeezing her in an embrace that seems too tender to be looking at, the next best thing to a kiss when in the middle of painting someone’s face. Ellie squeezes back, her lips mouthing words that the other girls can neither hear nor try to. This is for them and them alone.

Tayce enters just as they break apart, throwing herself into the seat next to A’Whora and grinning. “Hiya, gorge, what’d I miss?”

She leans over and kisses A’Whora’s cheek.

Bimini’s eyes pop open. “You and- and then her and- what the fuck? Babes, I think we skipped a few chapters!”

“You just haven’t read the book,” A’Whora winks at her.

“Right, right,” Bims nods understandingly, ever one to just go with the flow. “And is the big lesbian orgy before the concert or after?”

[fktonofwhatnow]

ok hold on. acomaf is my fave book out of the whole series (it's mostly out of emotional value, i read it when i was younger and didn't have a real understanding out trauma and abuse only that i saw a character i loved getting out of a bad situation and getting happy) so obviously i didn't mind feysand being endgame and the development all of the characters had. i can accept tamlin turned out like that is realistic due to his trauma, i can accept feyre had to flee because it wasn't right for her, but the thing is after acofs i see no point to feyre leaving tamlin when rhysand ends up doing everything they told us tamlin was evil and unredeemable for. hiding the risks of her pregnancy, putting on shields on her, having feyre need to compromise over it. i honestly felt so betrayed by that. i'm not saying feyre and tamlin were good for each other, but it doesn't feel worth it to dismiss the potential they had for what we got with feysand.

also, sarah learn to treat "ugly" trauma with respect challenge. no they don't need to learn to physically fight to fight it. no they don't need a love interest to overcome it. yes the behaviors acquired from trauma and abuse aren't pretty but that doesn't mean a person is undeserving of kindness and compassion.

i think i had a point somewhere but i can't get to it. so hope you don't mind my rambling. anyway i loved your meta about tamlin i think he deserves better too

HOLY SHIT THIS ONE IS SO GOOD OK IM SO EXCITED

Bro you are so fine, I'm the one who doesn't make any sense and I totally get what you're trying to say. (Acomaf was actually my favorite book in the series too ngl)

BUT FUCK YEAH LETS TALK ABOUT RHYSAND.

I don't think it's a secret that Rhysand is one of my least favorite characters in media, probably ever? (How do I even put this into words) He is a bad character and to me, laughably so. You know how if you've ever written a character, there's that little phase that's like "what if people don't like this character' and then you're sad for a little bit? That's how Rhysand feels to me. He feels like SJM looked at this character and thought "I can't stand the thought of people not liking this character because I love him so much" and then did everything in her power to make sure we know how great he is.

Idk if this is just me screaming into the void, but I get to this place with my characters where like, especially if they are a little more morally gray or their decisions have negative impacts, I understand that I don't need the audience to like my main character. they can stand on their own, they can own up to what they do and they can grow from it. Thats what a good character does. That's how you keep your audience rooting for them. You gotta knock them over sometimes.

SJm doesn't knock Rhysand over. She doesn't push him to make mistakes, apologize, own up and move on. Rhysand has never made a decision that ended poorly for him. Everything goes the way he wants it to, because SJm wants us to know how cool and great he is. People who are cool and great don't make bad decisions! SJm doesn't let Rhysand fail, and she doesn't let him suffer his own decisions. Everyone else suffers his decisions, not him.

Rhysand's reputation as a good person hinges entirely on the audience liking him and/or thinking he's hot. And then what happens when the audience thinks neither of those things? Ya get a rly long post like this by a lil enby who is mad all the time. Rhysand loses all credibility when you look at him through a critical lens. Not a single thing the man does makes any goddamn sense. Here I thought acosf would give us a different perspective on Feysand and I was desperately hoping that Nesta would tell us what she really sees in them and how people around them really feel, I hoped that SjM would throw us for a loop and tell us that hey, she does know that Feysand are fucking toxic as hell and ruin the lives of people around them and she wants to show us that from an outside perspective but noooOoOOOoOoOOOO...

Instead we get Nesta hating herself because Rhysand told her that she shouldn't tell Feyre that Feyre could uh die in childbirth. Hey what the fuck.

Now I don't actually ship feylin, I kinda always sorta knew, even without spoilers, that it wasn't going to work out. Tamlin isn't sjm's idea of a good partner because he's not charming and witty and dark and handsome ya know? We met Rhysand and I knew that I was going to fucking hate this romance. Which sucks because I found Rhysand so intriguing in the first book. Ngl all the time spent in the spring court was kinda boring and every time Rhysand showed up to throw dead faeries at Tamlin I was like "oooooo" and I wanted to know more about why Tamlin, this awkward, blunt and kinda shy dude had beef with this super duper sly and shady man from another court.

I don't know if I've ever said this before, but SJm doesn't let her love interests grow. Rhysand doesn't change over the course of the story because he was already a good guy and his motives were for Feyre's sake I swear, the same goes for Rowan in TOG. SJm doesn't give Rhysand room to change. She needs to get to the part where they fuck make sure everyone knows that Rhysand is a good guy and actually he was good all along so that we like him more than Tamlin. It backtracks on everything bad Rhysand has ever done because you know... He had a good reason! It's fine!

I know it's probably just because SJm doesn't actually know how to write a good character growth arc but... Like can you imagine if Rhysand stayed the bad guy? Or at least remained the bad guy through acotar and acomaf? And then when Rhysand comes to take Feyre for his bargain it really was only to spite Tamlin? What about Rhysand, taking Feyre to the night court with him once a week every month for a long time, if only to see Tamlin's eyes grow darker and emptier every time he goes, and then he really starts to fall in love with Feyre. He's been a monster all this time, angry and cold and cruel and then he actually starts to fall in love. And then to get Feyre to stay he really does try to change, he stops antagonizing Feyre, he stops throwing dead faeries at Tamlin, and he stops harassing the Spring court. He starts spending genuine quality time with Feyre, he starts to learn about her and all the things she likes and he stops trying to get her to come with him just so Tamlin will be mad. He starts asking her to come with him because he wants to be around her and he prays that someday she'll want to be around him too. What if SJm let him grow.

But nahhhhhh instead we have a character who always knows the right answer to things, and he always knows how to fix every issue, and he is always so innovative and outside the box except that he isn't. We get a character who does the same shit as Tamlin but it's ok because he had a good reason not to tell Feyre that she could very well die in childbirth. Uhhhh don't know what that is but uhhh I know he has his reasons because all he has are his reasons.

It would be so easy to hold a mirror up to Rhysand and say "look at this. Look who you are. Do you not look just like Tamlin right now?"

But nooooooooOoOOOo Rhysand doesn't get to be wrong. Rhysand doesn't get to look like Tamlin because Tamlin is evil and Rhysand is definitely NOT I SWEAR.

But yeah I think the point I'm trying to make is that Sarah thinks so highly of Rhysand that he could never do wrong. He could never be like Tamlin, despite the narrative literally telling us the exact opposite.

Like you said, we lost the potential of what feylin could have been if SJm didn't suddenly decide that her audience needs to love Rhysand as much as she does. I think feylin could have been slow and sweet and a story of true healing and learning about one another. I think it would have been kind and steady and lots of "are you ok"s and "I'm sorry"s and "talk to me"s. Everything about Feysand feels rushed and hard and fast and the rest of the world doesn't have time to catch up. It's fucking exhausting to read it ya know what I'm saying.

(also can we talk about Rhysand like dying and Feyre finding the suriel and learning he's her mate and then instead of being like "k let's put a pin in that and fuckin save his life first" she like throws him around and everyone is like "wtf woman" and she's like I neeD tO Be alOnE these people have no idea how to prioritize)

Truly, I think it's innocent to a degree. There is absolutely no harm in wanting people to like your character. The harm comes when you destroy another character with no reason or explanation other than you want people to like a different character. Villain arc? Completely out of left field. You gotta build to that shit or like... Make it so that when you look back you slap your forehead and yell at a wall "OF FUCKING COURSE I SHOULD HAVE SEEN IT"

anyways, SJm treat "ugly" trauma with respect challenge SECONDED.

WELL IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME WEEKS YO WRITE IM HAVING A HARD TIME I know it probably doesn't make any sense I can't find my braincells BUT thanks for the ask @xelly

Tell me all your acotar things I love yo hear them !!