#but i can't convey it enough to the world. how much i care n love for everything.. how much i appreciate like. what my parents do for me n

[noxtivagus]

i'm sorry

[stylesispunk]

"I Couldn't want you anymore"

Artist!Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 28). Remember that "Bee" is the reader's nickname, slightly angst, fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF. Things are getting better. no proofreading

a/n: This one is more than 5k. This one is a lovely chapter. The last one didn't do well, so I hope you like this one better. I think I will write two more chapters of this fic, but I think! I'm already working on another thing. Thanks for all those who read this! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and please, share your thoughts with me. I love reading your comments. You can send me any ask if you want. No proofreading because I'm too tired :( Happy reading!

masterlist

Was there something wrong with you?

There should have.

The constant infinite feeling of being the people pleaser had stolen things from you before. Some dreams, opportunities and chances of loving someone. You had always chosen others before even chose you, you had always hurt yourself before even thinking on hurting someone else, because that was the way life had been for you. You being the one pleasing others, you being the once giving up chances, you being the once being the second option, and now that you were the first for someone, it was scary.

You acknowledge you weren’t Joel’s first person he loved. Nor you were the first person he looked at, but you were the one he was looking at now, and you feared you weren’t enough for him to stay. Perhaps you were ashamed to take instead of giving this time.

The truth was, you wanted so desperately be loved at the same time you begged to be left alone. And how could you not if you biggest fear was ended up alone in a world where love was an idea instead of a romantic sacrifice conveying in a language only two people could understand

You just never thought you’d get this attached to him.

You just never thought you would have to wake and dream about his eyes, the prettiest you’ve ever came across with in a reality you didn’t see before. His eyes were pretty because you were in love with them, they were special because they looked at you with and adoration you weren’t able to see before. And how could you look away nod that you have seen that?

“I feel like a damn tall child, you know?” you said at Lily “It feels like I need to be told what I have to do.

looked at you with a sympathetic smile and replied, "I can see where you're coming from, but love doesn't come with a rulebook, and there's no one-size-fits-all answer to how to navigate it. Joel cares about you, that's clear. And you've given so much of yourself to others over the years; maybe it's time to let someone give back to you."

You nodded in agreement, but the fear still lingered in the corners of your heart. It was a fear that had been with you for as long as you could remember, a fear of abandonment, of not being enough. It was a fear born from a lifetime of people-pleasing, always putting others first and neglecting your own desires and needs.

Lily continued, "You deserve to be loved, truly loved, without constantly second-guessing whether you're worthy of it. It's okay to let someone in, to allow yourself to be vulnerable. Love is a two-way street, and Joel chose to be with you because he sees something in you that he cherishes. Trust in his feelings for you."

You sighed, knowing that Lily was right, but the vulnerability of it all was still terrifying. You had become so used to being the giver, the one who made sacrifices, that being on the receiving end was an unfamiliar and unsettling experience.

“What if he gets bored of waiting for me?” you asked

“Why would him?” Lily questioned.

You Sighed, a mix of clouding thoughts invaded your head "I don't know, Lily. I've built this life that I was happy with, and Joel came along, and it's like everything has been turned upside down. I love him, but it's scary how much he's changed things for me."

Lily gave you a thoughtful look. "Maybe it's not about him ruining your life, but about him being the one you dreamed about” she smiled before continued “Remember when we were kids and we dreamed about our prince charming coming to us”

You nodded at her, gracing a small smile at the memory “Fairy tales aren’t real”

“I’m not saying they are, but,” she paused to hold your hands in a comfort way “I believe there’s someone out there for you because you deserved it”

“How do you know is Joel?” you genuinely questioned.

“Oh no. That’s something only you know” she replied.

“I think he fits perfectly fine to what I dreamed of someone” you added, knowing deep inside that you should your heart won this time.

“You have your answer then, try things with him”

You took Lily's words to heart, her reassurance helping to ease some of the doubt that had been haunting you. The love you felt for Joel was real, and perhaps it was time to embrace it without the goshts of insecurity.

Lily smiled and gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'm here for you, Bee, and I think Joel truly cares about you. Give it a chance, and maybe you'll find something worth it”

“You’re only saying this because he is your brother-in-law” you joked.

For the first time in days, you felt at ease and carefree. You knew that there was so much more to life than just finding someone who will love you, but you still want drown yourself in the arms of someone without fear, and just enjoy the warm water caressing your skin.

As the days went by, you tried to open about your own feelings, gathering the thoughts and the courage to let yourself be vulnerable not in front of Joel, but you. To understand that you had the power to make choices about your feelings and acknowledge them. To feel less afraid that some else could hurt you and know that you could take care of yourself, and you will always be. But someone else could joined it, too. And you wanted it to be Joel.

Back when you two first met, you didn’t have to pick Joel. You both had crossed paths by fate and there was an instant connection that both of you ignored for so long, even when the chemistry was there. The lips curving in small smiles once you were together, the spark in the eyes. You understood you weren’t screwed, but lucky.

You weren’t looking for love months ago, nor planning to fall for someone, but Joel happened and there was it. You didn’t want to look at anyone else anymore.

And for Joel, you were the same. You were it. Yes, your heart was heavy, but it was open and ready to face every challenge that lay ahead. Whatever the outcome, you knew it was time to get the answers you'd been looking for days.

After a few days, one afternoon, as you were contemplating your feelings, you received a text message that caught you by surprise.

Joel

Can you stop by the gallery?

You smiled at the screen, not knowing what to answer,after days of silence, you couldn't help but feel the anticipation creeping in your body. Joel's gallery had become a small symbol of a story you wanted to write with him, a place where your connection had first blossomed and you wondered what could be so important for him to text after days of radio silence between two of you.

Your heart raced at the thought of seeing him again and what this conversation might entail.

You

Of course, I’ll be there at 8 PM.

The gallery had seen the beginnings of your written pages, and tonight, it might witness a significant turning point in your relationship with Joel.

As you waited for the clock to hit 8 p.m., the hours appeared to fly by. Thoughts and emotions raced inside you, with feelings of adrenaline, worry, and panic. You arrived at the gallery a bit early since you didn't want to keep Joel waiting.

You took a deep breath and gathered your thoughts before walking to the gallery, with your heart pumping with every step. When you saw the familiar sight of the gallery's entrance, you entered the space, looking for Joel. The soft glow of the gallery lights offered an inviting glow over the pieces of art on show.

Each piece of artwork had recollections of your previous meetings, each painting and sculpture giving silent witness to your romance path. You remembered the day he kissed you for the first time in front of Lauren, and how upset you were at him for it, then the first real kiss he gave you that night, when he was tracing the canvas of your face. and now, your heart squeezed at the thought of loving him so much.

Your steps echoed in the empty gallery as you reached the center of the space, waiting for Joel to come out. But when he did, he seemed speechless and confused at your presence there, as if you were interrupting his peace.

“Bee? What are you doing here?”  Joel's voice held a touch of surprise as he looked at you.

You furrowed your brows, a little confused. "You sent me a text, Joel. You asked me to come."

He seemed puzzled for a moment, and then he shook his head. "I didn't send any text."

Oh.

You hesitated, wondering if there had been a misunderstanding. "Well, I received one from you, Joel."

“You know? I’m really busy right now, Bee.” He said, telling you to leave him alone.

“But wait” he said going into his office looking for something. “Since you’re here, you should have this” handing you the keys to your flower shop. You accepted them, feeling a sense of disbelief. “I don’t know if you want to reopened it but, whatever your choice is, is up to you”

“That’s all?” you ask, dumfounded.

Joel nodded; his tone distant. "What else can I say?"

You were agape by his tone towards you.

“I- “

“I’m really busy, I’m behind the schedule with so many things because of the accident so, if you could go – “

His response left you somewhat stunned, and you were at a loss for words. "I... I didn't expect this."

Joel's expression remained a little off "What did you expect?"

You took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. "Well, I thought I came here to discuss... us."

Joel's gaze met yours, and there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "What about us, Bee?"

You felt a lump in your throat, the weight of your not so silent feelings hanging in the air. "I wanted to give us a chance."

But his face remained the same, and once again you felt ashamed at receiving nothing but silence from him all over again.

“Okay” you said defeat less, walking towards the door with your heart in your hand.

“Don’t” he called out.

Joel's voice brought you to a halt just as you were about to leave. Your heart still heavy with the weight of your words and the uncertainty of his response. There was still a mix of hope and uncertainty still tugging at your heart.

"Bee, stop" he called once again.

You turned to face him. Your heart still ached from the uncertainty of what his words were going to be.

 "Please, tell me,” He urged, his voice tinged with hope. "Because there's no way I'm letting you go for a second time."

"Are you for real?" you questioned, your tone challenging as you took a step closer to Joel.

Joel's gaze burned into yours, his eyes filled with love. You felt a glimmer of hope in your heart as you looked at him. The air between you was charged with unspoken emotions.

“I’m obsessed with you”

Joel's admission sent shivers down your spine, and for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to feel hope. You took another step closer to him, your heart racing. The room seemed to shrink as the magnetic pull between you intensified.

"I love you so much," Joel continued, his voice filled with sincerity and affection. "And I want to spend my days proving it."

The world outside appeared to slip away as you got closer, leaving only you and Joel in your own small kingdom. The air tinged with thrills, and you couldn't deny the strong pull pulling you together. Your heart crested with a range of emotions, and you whispered, "Make me believe in you, Joel."

Joel grabbed for you without hesitation, pulling you into his arms, and your lips met in a sweet, urgent kiss. The rest of the world faded away at the same time, and the love you both felt for each other became the only reality that identified. It felt like religion was in his kisses.

As you finally pulled away, the intensity of the moment hung in the air. You locked eyes with Joel, your hearts intertwined in the delicate dance of love. There was no turning back now, and together, you were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead on your path to healing and reconciliation.

The intensity of the moment lingered in the air as you finally pulled away. You locked gazes with Joel, your hearts in a delicate dance of love. There was no turning back now, and you were ready to face whatever obstacles awaiting you on the road.

Joel attached his gaze to yours, and for the first time in a while, his expression was prone to vulnerability "I love you, and I won't let you go again."

With those words, you knew that you were on the right path, you were safe and you knew your place was in his arms, no matter how challenging it might be.

"Okay, now you stay here," Joel said, gently grabbing you by your waist.

You raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were busy."

He smiled, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "I don't care. I can do things with you here."

Joel walked you to a comfortable sofa in the gallery where you could sit and see him work. He went about his tasks, occasionally glancing your way with a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat. It was a simple moment, yet it meant everything to you both. The greatest masterpiece you were creating was the art of being together, sharing the same space in peace. 

“What would you say if a take you on a date tomorrow night?” he asked

Joel continued working, but the question hung in the air for a moment before you responded, "A date? You mean like an actual date?"

He chuckled and looked at you, his eyes filled with warmth. "Yes, an actual date. Dinner and everything."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you felt a rush of excitement. "I'd love that."

"Great," he said, returning his focus to his work. "I'll make sure it's a memorable night."

You admired him and were excited and grateful for what the future held. Joel was working on a new canvas, but it felt like you were both creating a beautiful portrayal of your love story.

The next day, the sun bathed the city in a gentle, early morning light, filling your home with warmth and hope. You woke up feeling a little stuffy and achy all over, but you were so content and excited about the future of your relationship with Joel that you ignored any bad feeling. 

So, you went on with your routine, preparing a cup of coffee and tending to some flowers on your table, then your phone chimed.

Joel

Good morning, Bee. How about going to a restaurant tonight?

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of spending your night with him. It was a simple yet lovely idea.

You

Good morning, Joel. It sounds perfect. What time?

Joel

How about eight? I'll send you the location and I’ll wait for you there?

By the way, can’t wait to see you.

You

Can’t wait to see you too.

With a sense of excitement, you began to prepare for the day and eventual date, selecting the most beautiful clothes from your closet. You carefully chose an outfit that felt appropriate for the occasion. You chose an elegant red dress with a delicate floral pattern to show how attached you were to the flowers. You felt comfortable yet gorgeous in the gown, knowing that Joel was going to like how you would like.

You then styled your hair in loose waves to give you a natural and carefree look. You wanted this date to be as easy and enjoyable as your blossoming relationship with Joel.

You chose a small amount of makeup to accentuate your natural beauty as the finishing touch. You had a brilliant smile that brightened even more when you thought about him.

You couldn't help but feel a wave of happiness flooding over you as you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Today was the beginning of yet another lovely and real chapter in your journey with Joel, and you were ready to enjoy every moment of it.

But as you were ready, your stuffy nose and aching body didn’t help you to entirely enjoy the moment, so you decided to rest on your bed for a little while before going to you date with Joel, ten minutes would be enough for you to feel rested and freshen up.

But those ten minutes become three hours, and it was already ten past fifteen when you woke with a thud, your heart beating as you looked at the time. It had been two hours since you were scheduled to meet Joel at the restaurant. Panic gripped you as you hurriedly checked your phone. There were missed calls and messages from him, all of which were loaded with mounting anxiety.

Joel had made reservations at a cozy restaurant in town. He came early and waited for you, anxious to see you and make this evening memorable. However, an hour dragged into more, and you were still nowhere to be found.

Joel's impatience escalated to frustration, and he couldn't help but suspect that you had dumped him. He was upset and disappointed, and he was hurt that you had played with his feelings.

Just as he was about to leave, his phone chimed with a text message from you.

you

Hey Joel, I'm so sorry. I fell asleep. I’m feeling unwell, and I just woke up. I can't believe I missed our date. I genuinely didn't mean to. I understand if you're upset, but I hope you can forgive me. Please let me make it up to you.

Joel's frustration and disappointment were eased by your text message, which arrived just in time. He took a long breath and softened his look as he read your message, realizing that circumstances outside your control led to an unfortunate situation. It was evident that you had not intended to miss the date, and your words seemed genuine with real regret.

Joel

I'm sorry to hear you're not feeling well. Of course, I forgive you. There's no need to make it up to me. Your well-being is more important. Let's reschedule for when you're feeling better.

Joel sent the response, satisfied and beaming, and set up a plan to surprise you and take the date to your house, while ensuring you felt well and cared for by him. 

Once you had changed into your pajamas and getting ready for bed. A knock on your door caught you off guard. You hurried to the door, not knowing who it could be. When you opened it, you were surprised to see Joel standing there with a warm smile on his face.

"Joel?" you said, both surprised and delighted to see him. "What are you doing here?"

He held up a bag in one hand and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other. "I couldn't let the evening go to waste, and I couldn't stand the thought of you feeling unwell and alone. So, I decided to bring the date to you."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you were touched by his thoughtfulness. You stepped aside to let him in, and he entered with a charming grin. "I hope you don't mind me crashing your place."

You shook your head with a smile, feeling a sense of warmth and love wash over you. "Not at all. I'm just so happy you're here," you walked closer to him “Joel, I'm so sorry about tonight."

Joel smiled warmly and handed you the flowers and a box of chocolates. "No need to apologize, Bee. Are you feeling better?” he asked as he touched your face.

You sighed in relief as you felt Joel's gentle touch on your face. "I'm still a bit under the weather, but seeing you here makes me feel much better."

He nodded; You sighed in relief as you felt Joel's gentle touch on your face. "I'm still a bit under the weather, but seeing you here makes me feel much better."

He nodded; his eyes filled with concern. "I'm here to take care of you tonight, so no need to worry about a thing. How about we enjoy a cozy dinner at your place, just the two of us?"

You couldn't help but smile at his proposal. "That sounds perfect, Joel." his eyes filled with concern. "I'm here to take care of you tonight, so no need to worry about a thing. How about we enjoy a cozy dinner at your place, just the two of us?"

You couldn't help but smile at his proposal. "That sounds perfect, Joel."

and the two of you improvised a romantic dinner at your dining table, complete with candlelight and a cozy ambiance. You realized that being together at home, in such a comfortable and familiar setting, was just as special as going out. In fact, it might have been even better. You were in your little bubble and nobody’s watching as how you could love in secret.

As you shared a meal and talked, Joel's presence reassured you that he genuinely cared for you and wanted to make your relationship work. The date, despite its unusual setting, turned out to be a beautiful and memorable evening that brought you closer together.

Following the romantic dinner, the two of you went to the living room and cuddled up on the couch. You decided to keep the night cozy by watching a movie together.

You nestled against Joel's side as the opening titles rolled on the screen, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer. You could feel his warmth and the steady cadence of his heartbeat.

You nestled against Joel's side as the opening titles rolled on the screen, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer. You could feel his warmth and the steady cadence of his heartbeat.

The movie was playing, but your focus was mostly on each other. You shared soft smiles and giggling while discussing the film and created your own special moments. The bond between you felt stronger than ever, and it was clear that this one-of-a-kind date night was bringing you closer together.

Joel kissed your forehead, and his tender gesture filled your heart with joy. "I'm so glad you're here with me, Bee."

You looked into his eyes, experiencing the intensity of his feelings. “Are you staying tonight?” you asked.

Joel looked at you with a soft, affectionate smile, his eyes filled with warmth. "If you'll have me, Bee, I'd love to stay tonight."

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of contentment and happiness. "I'd like that, Joel."

Joel leaned in and placed another gentle kiss on your forehead. "I love you, Bee."

You smiled, your heart full of affection and a renewed sense of hope. "I love you too, Joel."

“Now, come to bed with me” you invited him

Joel's eyes sparkled with affection as he took your hand and stood up from the couch. "I'd love nothing more."

You led him to the bedroom, where the warm, inviting glow of soft lighting embraced you both. In each other's arms, you found the comfort and serenity that had eluded you for so long. The journey of healing and rebuilding your relationship was a process, but it was a journey worth taking, especially with Joel by your side.

As you settled into bed together, wrapped in each other's embrace, the world faded away. You knew there might still be challenges ahead, but with the love you shared, you felt ready to face anything.

With a whispered "goodnight," you closed your eyes, drifting into a peaceful and love-filled sleep, cherishing the presence of the man who had captured your heart. And as the night wore on, you and Joel found solace in each other's arms. This time, the story being written was real.

Next day, the first Sunday light of dawn painted the room in soft golden shades, you stirred awake, finding Joel still peacefully asleep beside you with his arm tightly wrapped around your waist, as if was preventing letting you go from his grasp. You couldn’t help but smile at seeing him in this light, which reflected his features just for you to witness.

You wanted to reached for his face and tracing delicate patterns on his face, but instead you kissed him softly on his forehead, and slipped out of the bed, careful to not disturb his slumber.

You felt refreshed and better in comparison to last night, and you blushed at the thought of Joel being the one who had made you felt like this.

So, in this morning, at your place, the aroma of fresh coffee waved through the air as you prepared breakfast for the both of you.

As you prepared breakfast in the sunlit kitchen, the sound of sizzling eggs and cracking dishes mixed with the smell of made coffee. Joel, suddenly awake and attracted by the appealing aroma, walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"Good morning," he said, softly kissing your neck. Instantly sending shivers down your spine. “Feeling better?”

You turned around to face him, placing your hands in the back of his neck “A lot better” you said, smiling.

As he pulled you close, Joel's eyes gleamed with an incandescent glow. "I'm glad," he said softly, his thumb stroking against your cheek. The early morning light displayed your shared grins, a silent expression of love in a language you both were learning. 

The world outside appeared to drift away as you stood there, wrapped in one other's arms. It was just the two of you, enjoying the simple joys of a morning together. The sound of eggs sizzling and plates clinking offered a relaxing routine at the start of the day.

Joel leaned in for another kiss, this time on your lips, with a cheeky sparkle in his eyes. The affectionate atmosphere of the moment spoke volumes, an unspoken language of affection. You couldn't help but chuckle as you pulled away, the sound filling the kitchen with a lightness that matched the fixing that was taking place in your world. 

Breakfast continued with shared laughter and stolen glances, filling the air with a sense of renewed strings pulling you together.

 You both stayed in the kitchen after the meal, enjoying the comfort of each other's company. Joel's fingertips stroked soft patterns on the back of your hand, a small gesture that echoed his devotion to you. 

Joel's eyes met yours with a mischievous grin. He closed the gap between you without saying anything, his lips meeting yours in a soft yet intense kiss. The warmth of his grasp along with the softness of his lips, drove an unconscious delay of time. As the kiss deepened, the world outside dissipated

When you inevitably pulled away to breathe, your eyes sank into the brown color of his eyes, expressing the feelings that now could be shared without fear. Joel cupped your cheek with his hand, his thumb lightly brushing against your skin. As if he convincing himself that you were real and this moment wouldn't be taken away from him. 

"Good morning, again," he said softly, a smile on his lips.

"Good morning, indeed," you responded, your fingertips drawing light patterns on his chest. The connection between you was real and confirmed the that new chapter in your relationship was genuine and long-lasting.

Joel's hand stayed on your cheek, a loving confirmation. "I could get used to mornings like this," he conceded, his eyes shining with affection.

You leaned in for another little kiss, savoring the joy of the moment, with a quiet chuckle.

Joel returned your kiss with delicate intensity, his fingers running through your hair as if calming down the shared passion. Every touch, every shared breath spoke of a love that survived storms you thought would never end. 

Joel's lips curved into a sweet smile as you drew back, and he placed his forehead against yours, savoring your closeness.

"I feel like the luckiest person alive right now," he said, his voice a quiet murmur reflecting the emotions expressed in this intimate moment.

"I feel pretty lucky, too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel's eyes mirrored your own, resulting in a wordless understanding that went beyond words.

Joel's thumb traced soft circles on your cheek, a comforting gesture that brought the two of you back to the present moment. He went for another kiss; he couldn’t help but savoring each second of this morning with you.

This kiss deepened, time seemed to slow down, allowing you both to get lost in the quiet urgency of the moment. The world beyond the shell you'd made in the kitchen vanished, leaving only the warmth of each other's lips and the smooth rhythm of your shared kiss.

Joel's fingers found their way to the small of your back, drawing you in closer, as if attempting to bridge the gap between your hearts. The magnetic pull of the kiss held a quiet urgency, as if both of you were reveling in the depth of emotions that had been rekindled.

Joel grabbed your face tighter, and pushed you backward until your back bumped into the counter, with more forced that intended.

"Easy there, tiger," you teased, joy dancing in your eyes as you slapped his chest playfully.

Joel, feeling the playful mood, smiled mischievously. "Just trying to make the morning a little more fun," he said, his fingers still gently tracing lines on your cheek.

"Well, mission accomplished," you said, your lingering laughter filling the space “There will be more time for that” you added.

Instead of using words, Joel leaned to stole one more kiss from you and told you he had to go home now.

Joel broke the kiss with a sweet smile, his fingertips lightly brushing against your cheek.

"I should go home," he said quietly, his voice a delicate caress in the air.

You nodded in understanding “Go before Sarah thinks I stole her dad”

Once he was ready to go, you walked him to the door. The shared smiles and unspoken feelings filled the air as if you were living a golden world of love.

Joel pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture filled with devotion to you.

"Until next time," he whispered, and with that, he stepped out.

Closing the door behind him, you leaned against it, a smile playing on your lips. You felt like a teenager figuring out what love was for the first time.

And just as you were lost in your own thoughts, there came a gentle knock at the door. Surprised, you opened it to find Joel standing there again with a conflicted expression, and tinted cheeks on a crimson color.

"Hey," he said, a nervous tone in his voice. “Before I go, I was wondering if you would like to be my girlfriend, for real this time?"

a/n: See?Just fluff.

What would you like to see in the next chapter?👀

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey @missladym1981 @littleshadow17

[starfragment1979]

I've been working on that fanfic, the one that was supposed to be fluff-n-smut, but the more I write the more plot starts creeping in, and just a liiitle bit of conflict. I was telling my spouse about this, and they joked that I just can't stop myself from writing a well rounded story, ha.

It's also turning out to be longer than I had anticipated, because of course it is. I had four scenes in mind, and I was going to post them as separate chapters just for ease of reading, but I was also going to post the whole thing at once because I didn't think it would be that long. But I just finished chapter one last week and it's 10k words, and if each chapter plays out the same way, 40k is kind of a lot of fluff-n-smut with some bonus plot and conflict. I'll probably still post it all at once, though, once it's done.

But, oh, friends, it is going so slow. I have been struggling with health stuff since early November... I thought at first it was just election stress, but after a while I started assuming I must've somehow gotten sick with a virus. My normal, everyday symptoms for years now include things like body aches and fatigue and sore throat and congestion and shortness of breath etc etc etc, which means it's so hard to tell the difference between just another flare up and being sick with something new, so I never even thought to test for covid until it was too late. I guess it doesn't matter now.

But I have been stuck in bed all day and exhausted and in pain and either not sleeping or sleeping like the dead and having nightmares every night and my brain is so sludgy that it takes superhuman strength to wrestle words out of it. Like it takes me fifteen minutes to write a sentence and then when I reread it I realized I already used half the words in the previous paragraph which I wrote the day before. I do have random better days where writing comes a little easier, and the story itself is clear in my head, I'm just struggling to find the words to convey it. But this one is gonna need some more substantial line editing when I'm all done writing, I think.

And just to be clear, I am writing these stories for myself. Like I do absolutely love the kudos and comments and the occasional Tumblr post or whatever, and I'll admit to regularly refreshing my stats page to see if I got more hits. But if I was just in this for the accolades, I'd go find a more active fandom.

I'm writing these stories because I love the characters and the lives and the world I've created for them. But also the act of writing itself is so vital to me feeling like a human being, and especially now as I'm increasingly bedbound and can't really access visual arts or craft projects, writing is one of the only ways I can practice creativity. I have lost so much to this illness, and I don't want to lose writing and stories and art, too, even if it's a struggle, even if I'm using more energy than I can afford to do it.

I don't know how to express how vital writing and creativity is to my mental health without this whole post coming across as a pity party. Every now and then, when I'm having a bad day or a string of bad days, I'll start to think, "Maybe this should be my last story, maybe I shouldn't be doing this anymore." But I don't like to think about what my life would be like without writing, and I don't want to lose that last little shred of humanity.

And whenever I start to think I should quit, I also wind up thinking up another story I want to write, and I wind up wanting it badly enough that I decide to keep going for just one more story. And then one more. And on it goes.

I've actually got the next story I want to write fully fleshed out in my head, like scene-for-scene, a lot of the prose and dialogue clear in my mind. It'll be a one shot where Flick has a medical issue, panics about it, and CJ helps take care of him. (I know, I know... it's not my exact medical issues, but there probably is some projecting going on here, lol.) And it's all so clear in my head that I'm tempted to take a break from my current story and write that one instead, to strike while the iron is hot, because maybe it's also easier for me to write angst than it is to write sex, ha. But I also think it's probably better for me to save it for later, so that I have some future plans and something to look forward to, to use my own stories as a life raft for myself.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

What if you made a part 2 of “do you wanna be friends?” where ken starts falling for the reader after Barbie shuts Ken down like at the end of the movie. Reader realizes her own worth and how her tears aren’t worth it for ken and plot twist gets with Allan after he helps her with her feelings🫢

Ooough yes ;w;

Note this is definitely longer than part 1 but trust me I had a lot of ideas for this so enjoy the angst <3

Part 1 is here!

.......

In the days following your talk with Ken on the beach, things in Barbieland have....gradually turned upside-down.

He went to the Real World with Barbie after you convinced him to go after her, but you never expected him to come back with something called "patriarchy" and use it to destroy nearly everything the women have built up here.

According to him and the few books he brought, men and horses ran the show instead--and that's how it should be in this world, too.

At first, you had no idea how quickly things escalated as he explained these things to the other dolls...until suddenly the Barbies no longer had their own agencies, jobs, or livelihoods, instead dedicating all of that to their Kens.

Of course you didn't succumb to the brainwashing, and once you realized what was happening, you made it clear to Ken you wanted no part of it. You tried talking some sense into him, insisting that this wasn't just the "reverse" of how the Barbies treated them.

It was cruel and outright degrading.

Yet he didn't seem to care, shrugging off your concerns. It's like he turned into an entirely different person, no longer being that awkward lovestruck fool who'd ramble about his girlfriend's personality and charm to you day and night.

Instead, he started talking about her "hotness" and how any Barbie would've been lucky to have him, with his fellow Kens laughing in the background and nodding along to everything he was saying.

But they only fell silent when you snapped, saying no doll in the world would love him if he was going to act like this forever, before storming away and going home.

It's there where you finally let your tears out, feeling ache in your plastic heart for all sorts of reasons--among them being why you were stupid enough to still love Ken and why you felt so guilty for getting angry at him.

Even now, part of you was still clinging to the small hope that he would've understood your song and what you were trying to convey to him..

Obviously, he didn't.

Why would he?

All he could ever think about was Barbie, while you forced yourself to stand on the sidelines and support his efforts to impress her.

Well, you couldn't support him this time. Not in this "Kendom".

When Allan came to your door, trying to find refuge from the Kens and their endless demands for massages, you let him inside. And that's where you two sat on your (non-leather) couch and talked for a while.

Despite being proclaimed his "buddy", the two never hung out much, although at this point he didn't seem to care about that anymore. He too was fed up with everything going on and asked why you were wasting your tears on a jerk like him.

You got defensive at first, wanting to say that Ken isn't a jerk.

But then you realized that what he said was actually...really smart.

It's something you'd expect to hear from a Barbie, not an Allan. But he made a valid point.

Why should you waste your tears on a guy like that? Who can't see that you've been there for him all along?

He wasn't worth breaking your heart over.

So you ultimately resolved to leave Kendom together, stowing away in the backseat of Barbie's car--which was now in the control of the humans she brought back with her. You weren't sure where she was, but you believed getting out of here was more important.

No one in the Real World would care if an Allan and a [y/n] were roaming around.

Yet one scuffle with Construction Worker Kens later....you four were at Weird Barbie's house, helping Barbie out of her depression and coordinating a plan to take back your home, no longer wanting to run away.

You worked hard to help deprogram the Barbies, freeing them from Ken's tyranny before enacting the final step: turning him and his fellow dolls against each other.

Before long, Barbieland was somewhat restored to its former glory, with the ladies' ruling being reinstated and them promising to give the Kens more recognition.

Barbie and Ken eventually made their amends, too, before she chose to depart for the Real World permanently, believing she no longer felt at home here.

It was a bittersweet goodbye, and once she was gone, you consoled Allan, who was overwhelmed by all of the recent events that have taken place. He helped save Barbieland, too, and you made sure the Madame President didn't forget that and ignore him again.

Fortunately, the Barbies were in agreement this time, inviting him to help with the rest of the cleanup--to which he giddily scrambled to find the nearest broom and get right to work.

You smiled, feeling a little bit proud of yourself for being his number one advocate.

When you turned around, however, you noticed Ken lingering near the pink slide by Barbie's dreamhouse. He was just standing there all alone, hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, still wearing the lightning bandanna.

Your anger from before had dwindled significantly, especially since you all heard his confession and realized he literally didn't know how to see past Barbie. Now you understood him a little better, and so you decided to approach him as a friend again.

"Hey, Ken. How you feeling?"

He looked up in surprise. Although he seemed exhausted, with his face stained with dry tear tracks, his smile was genuine. "Oh hey, [y/n]. I'm...still feeling kinda sad, but at the same time I feel...good? I dunno. It's weird."

"I understand." You nodded sympathetically

Sniffling, his gaze flickered back down to the ground. "Guess I should've listened to you more, huh?"

"It's okay." A reassuring smile graced your lips as you patted his arm in comfort. "She had to be the one to tell you, not me."

"Right...so um..."

"What's up?"

"Could I...maybe come over to your house later?" He quietly asked, crossing both of his fingers out of habit, although he glanced up and noticed your expression, quickly uncrossing them. "I-I mean not like that...not a sleepover or anything. I just...feel like we need to talk through some stuff."

"Oh...I think so, too." You relaxed, glad that he was finally gaining some maturity. "I'll see you tonight?"

His smile grew a little. "See you tonight."

..........

After the sun set over Barbieland once again, you had finished changing into your pajamas, unsure of whether Ken remembered to come over or if he decided to back out last minute.

You couldn't blame him if he suddenly didn't feel up to talking to anybody after all that's happened today. He probably needed some time alone to process things.

If he was ready, surely he'll let you know.

Yet you heard the doorbell ring while fine-tuning the strings of your guitar. You set it down on the table carefully before going to answer the door.

Much to your surprise (and bewilderment) it was Ken, all-dolled up in a nice sparkling vest and dress shirt. His hair was neatly combed, the bandanna and horseshoe chain necklace no longer anywhere to be seen.

"Hi, [y/n]...may I come in?" He awkwardly shuffled in place, clearly hiding something behind his back that he didn't want you to see for some reason.

"Sure. Nice outfit, by the way." You invited him in, now feeling a bit awkward yourself: here you were in cozy pjs, while your best friend looked ready for a night on the town.

Deep down, you began to worry about where this was heading, given the way he dressed up and seemed rather nervous, but you decided not to assume anything too quickly.

"Thanks." A light blush rose to his cheeks. "I wanted to look my absolute best for you."

"..for me?" You blinked. "I mean..this is a huge step-up from that mink coat, but I wasn't planning on going out anywhere. We were just gonna talk-"

"About our future together."

"...I'm sorry?"

"Our future together." He repeated, revealing the surprise to you: a small bouquet of plastic flowers with your favorite colors. "I've decided that...I'm ready to be your boyfriend, i-if you still want me."

You had to take a step back, eyes wide in shock. "Ken--are you.....is this a joke?"

"It's not a joke. I remembered that song you were playing on the beach. You wanted to be more than just friends...but you were scared to tell me because you didn't wanna ruin what we already had. That's what it was about, right?"

Freezing in place, you were now completely tongue-tied as you fumbled to generate some kind of excuse. You didn't think he'd actually hear any of those lyrics or even understand them.

"I-It's....yes, it's a song about unrequited love. But that's all it is, Ken. Just a random song I so happened to know. It doesn't mean anything-"

"It meant something to you, though. You were speaking to me through that song, and I was too stupid to realize it before. But I get it now! I understand!" With a childish grin he offered the flowers to you once more. "That was your confession, and I'm here to say that I accept it! I'm ready to be more than friends."

"...look, I'm glad you understand now. But.." Pausing, you took the flowers and set them on a nearby table, watching as his expression gradually faltered. "You and Barbie literally broke up hours ago. Don't you remember what she said?"

".....I-I didn't forget." The blond stood rigid, trying his best to keep his composure. "I'm not my girlfriend or any of that crap. I thought I could only love her, but I was wrong. And I'm okay with that. I'm ready to move on and be with the person who I should've been paying more attention to."

Stepping closer, he took your hands into his own, a pleading gaze sweeping across his face. "That's you, [y/n]. I know I was an idiot to ignore your feelings...and an even bigger idiot for bringing patriarchy here, but..I promise I'll do better. I'll be better."

"Ken, this isn't-" You attempted to speak, but he was already rambling about the endless possibilities that awaited this relationship.

"If you want, you can play the guitar at me and I'll play mine right back!"

"That's not what I-"

"I promise I won't play Push this time. I've learned way cooler songs since then and I can show them all to you."

"Ken, just listen to-"

"Oh! We can teach each other different songs, or-!"

"The answer's NO, Ken." You raised your voice in a small fit of frustration and impatience.

Those words came out harsher than you intended, but the damage was done, as he flinched and took his hands away, holding them to his chest with wide eyes.

"No as in...y-you don't wanna play the guitar with me?" His voice began to tremble.

"I mean "no" as in..." You hesitated, knowing you were about to break his heart and regret it. But you had to give him the truth. "Look, you can't just...suddenly decide you wanna be with me just because Barbie left the picture. That's not how this works. I'm not her replacement. I'm not her, and I can never be her."

"N-No, that's..." Tears began pooling in his eyes, scrambling to find a way to salvage this situation. "That's not what I meant at all! I-I'm not looking for any replacement! You sang your heart out to me, and-"

"That was back when I was naive and afraid to speak up for myself. I've changed since, Ken. Now I know my worth."

He was confused by what you meant by that, but before he could respond, he heard another male doll's voice speak up.

Not a Ken, but an Allan.

"I-I helped them realize that, of course!"

"...Allan? Buddy?" Blinking away his tears, he noticed the auburn-haired doll coming down the stairs. He was so incredibly lost as he glanced between you both, although he eventually connected the dots. "Wait, [y/n]...is he...?"

"Hold on, you didn't tell him yet??" Allan muttered to you, growing tense when you sent a slightly annoyed expression his way.

"I was getting there, but...." You stopped, looking back at Ken to see the devastation written all over his face. "Yes, Allan and I are a thing now. I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but he helped me through a lot of stuff and...I realized my heart was in the wrong place. It's with him."

"...o-oh, I...I see now. And when did this...?"

"Two hours ago, after we finished cleaning the cul-de-sac."

He felt his heart shatter into a billion plastic pieces at this news. It took all his strength not to immediately bawl his eyes out; he wasn't even sure if he had any more tears left to cry.

This stung ten times worse than Barbie rejecting him in favor of Girls' Night. But deep down he knew that he only had himself to blame.

Why did he choose to fall for you after the fact he hurt you?

"Look, I know this must absolutely suck. But..you screwed up a lot, man." Allan shook his head, a slight frown on his face. "You can't expect [y/n] to forgive you like nothing ever-"

"I do forgive him." You gently corrected him, before glancing back at Ken once more. "I forgive you. You were made to love her, and you were frustrated she didn't feel the same. That's Mattel's fault. But...you clearly haven't moved past this yet, and you're never going to if you keep giving your heart away. You need time for yourself..not a relationship."

"...o-okay. I'll focus more on me...I get it. I'm gonna go now. Goodnight." He took the bouquet, hiding his face with them.

But it did little to masquerade his sniffles, even as he turned around and tried making a quick exit towards the door, embarrassed and ashamed.

You probably didn't want to see him ever again-

Yet he froze as he felt your hand resting on his back.

"C'mon Ken, don't be like that. Could you look at me?"

"......."

"Please?"

He listened as he slowly turned around and set down the flowers, allowing you to see his face--now stained with fresh new tears. There was a tiny glimmer of hope in his eyes that you were only joking about dating Allan just to see his reaction.

Yet there was only a sad smile on your face. "I'm willing to stay friends. We can do guitar lessons together and all that fun stuff if you want. I don't plan on going to the Real World anytime soon, so..I'll always be here if you wanna hang out."

"...you will?" His voice was small, his sniffles continuing. "I didn't..r-ruin anything between us?"

You shook your head and opened your arms up. "Not a thing--oof!"

Next thing you knew, he collapsed into your embrace, and you could feel him shaking. "I-I'm just...so scared that I'll never find love again.." He cried softly. "How will I know who's the right person? Or when it's the right time? Or-?"

"You'll know. I promise." Patting his back, you sighed and closed your eyes, appreciating the fact that Allan left the room to give you two space. "For now, just..keep focusing on yourself and who you are outside of your love life and accessories, okay?"

He nodded in understanding, staying in your hold for a little bit longer before he regrettably let you go. "Thank you, [y/n]..w-will you..at least keep the flowers?"

"Of course. I won't tell Allan." You winked in a lighthearted manner, which made him smile a tiny bit.

After that, Ken properly left your house this time, his heart still aching with the pain of knowing you two simply weren't meant to be. He knew this was for the best but...it still hurts.

Once again he was wandering alone, off to wherever he and the other Kens slept.

Housing for them was still being discussed among the Barbies, although the project seemed to be a success in-progress as he spotted some dolls already moving into newer homes.

They were like the dreamhouses, except smaller with blue accents and minimal horse decorum. One seemed to be up for sale near your house.

Yet he kept walking underneath the brightly-lit streetlights, finding himself humming the tune of that same song you held near and dear to your heart.

If being friends is how he got to have you, then...sure.

He could settle for that.

[pauls-mescal]

"A Place in My Heart" - Bucky Barnes x f! Reader

Not me again trying some writing as I'm doing nothing this whole weekend hehe. I've been thinking about how Bucky would be such a fluff gentleman if he had a girlfriend or something, so I had in mind some romantic friend/boyfriend shot. Although he wants peace, being the Winter Soldier will somehow always put him and his love interest in danger.

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/S) = Your surname

Word count: 995

Bucky was always alert in the midst of the chaos in which he still lived inside his mind, mainly because he couldn't – and no matter how hard he tried – get rid of the dark past. Every day the hard and cold nightmares of a parallel reality haunted him, waking him up scared and with a trembling body, sweaty and stiffened by the memories that still sounded vivid in his dreams. The last time he didn't feel a bit out of his mind was when he moved to the new apartment, where he saw that he would have peace, comfort and even a “hug” from the place that conveyed serenity and security. Since the post-mission against the Flag Smashers, Barnes hasn't had much time to go back to dealing with the past few years in a caring way, specially because he doesn't feel like talking openly about his Winter Soldier stint as a serial killer. The new Winter Soldier was considered more “beloved”, even if he still carried with him the marks of what he tried, for years, to erase from his memory. The man woke suddenly, metallic arm clenched into a tight fist as an automatic defense, irregular heart beats and trembling hands showing signs of yet another agonizing experience. Bucky felt sweat dripping from his spore and grabbed a bottle of water, wetting his parched, burning throat. (Y/N)'s head popped through the small gap in the bedroom door, the light from the hallway illuminating a bit of your body.  

"You alright? I heard you scream.” (Y/N) met Bucky a few months ago, when you first spoke with someone experienced and who knew the amazing Captain America. At the time, the two of you – oddly enough, and Barnes was never one to say so many words, besides always keeping a frown of distrust – got along well and you knew that silent side of him, and didn't blame him. The journalist published an article in which she reported the last interactions between James and Steve, before the Captain returned to time. When you met Sam, the friend tried, in a very discreet way, so that (Y/N) could pass on government information to them, and ended up becoming a great trusthful to them. That night, you were taking care of a project while waiting for Barnes to get back from another mission, which he didn't want to say what it was. 

“Shit, it never ends,” he growled as he set the bottle on top of the nightstand. "If I had a choice, I would have asked them to permanently erase my memory." He sounded disappointed, and even though he didn't see him so well in the dark, (Y/N) could see a look of pain. The woman entered the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, resting a hand on his shoulder. She was never invasive and always respected the soldier's space, even though there she saw a true and genuine friendship between the two, and that Bucky could trust you, despite keeping himself almost always closed.  

“James, you know you need to go back and keep seeing Christina. I get it, what you went through was something you can't shake off, but you have to stay sane to survive”, (Y/S) caught a glimpse of her friend nodding. Of course, he knew that, but he often ended up closing himself off from the world, especially from Sam Wilson, who he was always with. 

“I don't know what else I can do,” Barnes sighed, holding your hand, which was still resting on his shoulder. "I have nowhere to run". The man in front of you showed such fragility, you had practically never seen that about him. You knew about the nightmares, the flashes of memory, the memories that still roamed through his super-soldier body, but you didn't know how to deal with the moments when he struggled against all the trauma he had lived, trapped in his mind without being able to get rid of them. 

“Bucky,” you called him, gently cupping his chin so that he would look at you. The crack of light in the hallway showed a body tired of fighting so much against it all. "You've been through a lot so far, you deserve to live like a guy, who we all now consider a hero." He let out a nasal laugh. “You deserve that redemption, mainly because you recognize that now everything you do is for the good of people. Fuck what they think, fuck it. I know it still hurts to remember the death of Yori's son, but that wasn't you." He looked down resentfully. (Y/N)'s words, even if painful, were quite harmonious, and made him – somehow – less guilty about his personal issues.  

“Thank you, (Y/S). Seriously. I needed to hear this. I just hope I can go back to dreaming less about all this”, he said. “How about we go somewhere tomorrow, drink some beers or some coffee?”, Barnes questioned, a smirk formed on his lips and his face already looked more relieved. The journalist nodded and smiled at her friend, getting up from the bed to leave the room.  

"Try to sleep again, tomorrow will be a new day", (Y/S) stopped in the doorway to wish him good night, seeing that he was already getting ready to go to bed again. 

“Good night, (Y/S). While you're still here, go to sleep and finish your article tomorrow, otherwise I will kick you out in the middle of the night”, Bucky shot in a playful way. (Y/N) laughed at the way he spoke to her. You took the opportunity to spend the night at his house so you could settle the matter about John Walker, and – charmingly – he asked you not to come home late. Even though he exuded a "princey man", you knew James wasn't in the right frame of mind to get involved with anyone right now, and it wasn't something you were thinking about either, even though your relationship was one of extreme tenderness. 

[b4rredteeth]

TASK #2

BHASKAR PUNIT CHANDA

I : THE LOVERS' MASK

A TALE CALLED THE MOON'S ANGUISH THAT HAS CIRCULATED ANCHORAGE FOR THE PAST SEVERAL DECADES HAS PROMPTED SOME YOUNG LOVERS TO EXCHANGE MASKS AS A PROMISE OF DEVOTION. WHAT DESIGN WOULD MUSE THEORETICALLY THINK FITS THEM ( LOOK BACK TO REVENGE OF KRAMPUS FOR REFERENCE, #ANCHORTASK01 ON OUR SERVER ) ?

This one.

SOME MIGHT CONSIDER THEM LEADING A DOUBLE LIFE IF THEY KNEW ABOUT ... 

What double life? Benny lives honesty and doesn’t make a secret of anything he does. Except maybe his drug dealing towards law enforcement. 

WHAT WOULD BE THEIR OWN DEAL BREAKER IN A RELATIONSHIP ? 

Cowardice. Say it like it is or fuck off.

WOULD THEY DIE FOR LOVE OR KILL FOR MONEY ?

Despite what he might give off, the image he tries to convey to the outside world: Benny would do neither. 

THEY ONLY HAVE ENOUGH CHANGE FOR ONE CALL AT THE PHONEBOOTH, & SOMEONE WITH GLARING RED EYES & A SPATULA IS STANDING ACROSS THE STREET. WHO WILL THEY CALL ?

… probably the only phone number he still knows by heart: his parents. 

II : THE ZEIGEIST OF THE '90S

THEIR FAVOURITE SLASHER FILM IS ( IF APPLICABLE ) …

Scream. 

IN THEIR FREE TIME, THEY ENJOY GOING OUT AND ... 

Go dancing, drinking, and finding someone to take home. 

A FASHION FAD OF THE TIMES THEY ADORE THAT THEIR FRIENDS WOULD DESPISE IS …

Adidas. Anything Adidas. 

HOW OFTEN DO THEY ORDER DELIVERY FROM PEPPY'S PIZZERIA ? HAVE THEY EVER SEEN THE WALLS OOZE GREEN SLIME IN THE PIZZERIA OR THE ANIMATRONICS MOVE ON THEIR OWN DURING THEIR TIME IN ANCHORAGE ?

Still does, he doesn’t give a single fuck about the ooze and the animatronics, he thinks management does it on purpose.

WHEN THEY BELIEVED IN CHRISTMAS, WERE THEY TOLD KRAMPUS WOULD PAY THEM A VISIT FOR BEING ON THE NAUGHTY LIST ? ( WRITE N/A IF NOT APPLICABLE TO THEIR RELIGION OR LIFESTYLE )

Yes, and despite how often he must’ve probably ended up on it, nobody ever took him away. He very much prayed he would show up. 

WHAT TALL TALE OR SUPERSTITION WERE THEY TOLD AS A CHILD THAT STILL GIVES THEM THE HEEBIE JEEBIES ?

His grandmother used to tell him about the Pontianak, an Indonesian vengeful spirit of a woman who resembles a vampire. She would use this spirit against him when he was a boy whenever he would do something stupid. She would scratch him with her nails in the dark or suggest he’d be next. Now during the full moon when he hears a baby crying or smells decay, he’s out. 

III : THE CURSE OF THE SPIDER

ARE THERE FAMILY SECRETS OR SO-CALLED CURSES THAT HAUNT THEM ? ONES THAT ARE KNOWN PUBLICLY OR FOLLOW THEM FIGURATIVELY ?

Benny doesn’t have any proof, but he knows something is up. Whether it’s about him, or if it is more of a family secret, he isn’t sure. He’s always found it strange that his parents paid so much attention to his sisters and barely any to him. Though his grandmother has suggested that it’s because he’s a boy, and he can take care of himself. He’s not so sure about it. He knows something is up, that there is a secret he’s involved in but not supposed to know. 

WHICH OF THE SEVEN SINS WOULD CORRUPT THEIR MORALS ?

Pride. From which follows Rage and Greed and Envy.

THE WORLD REMAINS THE SAME FOR DECADES NOW. IS IGNORANCE BLISS ? OR IS THERE THE SHAKY SENSE SOMETHING IS AMISS THAT CAN'T BE IGNORED ? 

It can be ignored. 

DREAMS ARE OFTEN INFLUENCED BY THE SUBCONSCIOUS & SOMETIMES DISTORTED. IN THEIR DEEPEST, DARKEST NIGHTMARES, HOW DO THEY VIEW THEMSELVES ?

As a rotten piece of garbage, not worth anyone’s time, and only ever used by people who want to feel better about themselves. Everything that was ever said by his parents growing up. 

IV : THE CROOKED FRAME

WHAT IS THEIR DEATH WISH ? MIROIRS ONLY ( BASTARDS GANG INCLUDED ) : THE PERFECT CRIME WAS CONSTRUCTED & SOMEONE ELSE TOOK THEIR PLACE. HOW DID THEY ORIGINALLY DIE ?

To go out in a blaze of glory.

MUSE COULDN'T BE THE ONE BEHIND THE TUNNEL OF LOVE OUTAGE BECAUSE WHEN THE POWER WENT OUT, THEY WERE ... 

Selling drugs on the other side of the park, trying to get into someone’s pants at the same time, which worked out perfectly for him once the lights went out. 

WHAT WOULD THEY CONSIDER THEIR CALLING CARD ( I.E. WHAT SYMBOLS, PERSONAL MEMENTOS, ETC. DO THEY PERCEIVE AS REPRESENTATIVE OF THEMSELVES ) ? 

Drugs. 

THOSE WITH INTERMEDIATE TECHNICAL SKILLS HAVE USED CRACKS & VPNS TO IMPROVE THE INTERNET CONNECTION, BUT ANYTHING POST-DATING THE 1990S IS ONLY ACCESSIBLE THROUGH THE DARK WEB. HAS MUSE EVER ACCESSED THE DARK WEB ? HAVE THEY USED IT FOR ANY NEFARIOUS MEANS OR TO PURCHASE SERVICES ?

Yes, and he still uses it. 

[royaltyoon]

hiiiii! Joongoo and Jonggun as sugar daddies, but reader is strong, proud and independent woman! hcs please? (´∀｀)♡

Thank you for the request (つ≧▽≦)つ I hope this is what you had in mind.

HEAD CANONS

Sugar daddy headcanon

[A/N]

I've been calling them gun and goo for like a year now. I swear, jonggun and joongoo sound like completely different people to me.

Gun:

Showering you with gifts and presents was his love language.

Love and affection? Please. Even gun knew he wasn't capable of displaying more than three emotions.

To him, you were his priority. But other than showing how much you mean to him by buying you expensive stuff he knew no other way to convey his feelings.

And he sure as hell wasn't liking the fact that now, you wouldn't even let him buy you anything.

It led to a number of childish arguments, which gun wasn't proud of.

"I don't need you money, gun."

"I can't hear you, princess."

"I. Don't. Need. You. To. Spend. Your. Money. On. Me."

"still can't hear you."

"I don't nee- "blah blah blah, I still don't hear you."

Gun used 'blah blah blah'. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed shaking his head in disappointment for his own self.

If you ever mention an object randomly during a conversation, it'll be home delivered to you the next day.

He didn't care how expensive it was, he had enough zeros in his bank account that could buy his next three generations an easy and luxurious life.

You often liked to leisurely roam malls during your free time, you didn't need to buy anything but you just liked looking at what was new and trendy in the fashion world.

God forbid if gun ever joined you, you'd come home with a quarter of the mall in your bags.

You had to get stern with him, because his stubborn ass would just never listen.

But the next time he joined you, he bought himself a ton of stuff just so he can show that the stuff he bought you costed lower than what he brought himself.

Even spelling it out to him didn't seem to penetrate his thick skull, so you took extreme measures.

"princess, are you really not gonna talk to me till I don't return the stuff back?"

"....."

"I'm not gonna fall for the silent treatment."

"......"

"fine, I'll return it tomorrow. Just so you know, its not very classy for someone to return stuff they brought. I'm ready to taint my reputation for you. You've gotta love me after this."

"And I do."

All in all, he loved how independent you were, if something ever happened to him, he knew you would be able to handle yourself.

You weren't naive so he didn't have to worry too much about you.

BONUS:

Gun called out your name, gaining your attention. He slowly opened a small velvet box, revealing a beautiful ring with a diamond settled atop it. You already knew it would cost more than the number you had in mind.

Your eyes rolled and a sigh escaped your lips. "I already told you I don't need you to buy me anymore jewelry. I have enough. Return that back."

He just blinked at you blankly for two seconds, "Princess. I'm proposing."

Goo:

Much like gun, goo had the habbit of purchasing stuff without a glance at the price tag.

Goo loved money, if there's anything he took seriously, it was money.

But he didn't hesitate for a second before spending it.

"I worked for it, so I get to spend it however I want." He always said that.

Limits? Pfft, this man had no limits.

He would buy you stuff before the words would even leave your mouth.

"Goo, I want-

"A dress? Okaaay, I just brought a dress I think would look good on you. It delivers at home tomorrow, so make sure to recieve it."

"what the. No i-

"you need jewelry? Hold on. This might take a while, oh there you go it's done. It'll be deliver- wait! What does this mean by no home delivery?? They expect us to walk in there and personally buy it? Why even bother having an online website? What kind of customer service is this?!"

"Goo."

"yes, sweetheart."

"..... I just wanted you to go buy some bread."

If you ever told him that he didn't have to buy you anything and that you could afford it in your own. He would be over the top dramatic about it.

Also, he would probably get anxious about why you ask him not to buy you stuff, so you will have to reassure him every once in a while.

"listen to me you, rich fool."

"yes, sweetheart." He spoke through his smushed cheeks between your two palms. "I don't need you to buy me a penthouse."

"but why? You should have a place to live."

"I'm not homeless, I literally live with you here. So I don't need you to buy me anything."

"You don't like me anymore, sweetheart, is that what this is?"

"how did you even reach that conclusion?? I literally live with you."

"Then, is that penthouse too small, I did think it wa-

"I don't need you to spend your money on me."

"You don't need my money? Then why are you dating me?"

"I'm dating you because I like you not your money."

"yeah, that doesn't sound right."

You will probably need a lot more reassuring for him to finally realise that you aren't in this relationship for the money.

Even after he gets it, he will probably be just as dramatic as he was before.

You will also have to teach him now to manage his money and spend in limits.

BONUS:

"uh-oh what'd I do now?" He questions as he walked into your shared room looking at the glare you're giving him.

"That." You point your finger to a small box placed at the table. Goo's eyes widened at the sight of the tiny velvet case.

"I found that while cleaning. Did I not tell you to stop buying anymore jewelry?" You glare at him with crossed hands and legs.

"sweetheart. That's a wedding ring. I was planning on proposing. Now that's a surprise ruined."

[muffindaddystyles]

KISMETS.

Harry Styles x fem!reader.

Slow burn, platonic love and jealousy clićhes.

Fluff! Fluff! Fluff!

Frenemies and dad!harry.

Author's Note: The concept's kinda weird but if you've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Phoebe Buffay carrying child for someone. You've got it my pal!

MASTERLIST LETS TALK! PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

"Can ya stop breathing like, THAT!?" She whisper yells twisting to give him a sharp glare full of spleen elbow poking at his side abs, "Like what!?" He half squeaks peering down at her with doe eyes palms flat at sides to convey his surprise.

"Like a train engine whistling -- it's annoying." She mutters rolling her eyes and turning back to listen to instructor.

"Now, I can't even breath without ye' comin' fo' me throat?" He grits with a kink of brows and when she confirms with a no --- He gasps dramatically. It's gonna be a long journey of Hell for them. Harry hates her hormones. Little bitches.

Or

Y/N is carrying a baby for Harry and his girlfriend ---  but something went downhill.

//

Twinkling droplets of crystal rain pelts against the bricked road subsiding harsh noises of surrounding but a nettled groan caught everyone's attention ‐‐‐ stares turning in direction. Have you ever wanted to just disappear under a warm invisible cloak and enjoy the drollery aspects of life without worrying? Because this is what Y/N wants at the moment as she stands under the bus stop shelter with few people beside her and the british showers starts pouring mocking at her for not carrying an umbrella with her.

Everyone leaves when the bus didn't arrive — who remains behind's Y/N huffing and pouting wishing for rain to stop. When it didn't she muttered a 'fuck it' before risking catching a cold and stepping under the pitter patter with her books atop her head for less damage.

Trying to punch in the passcode of society's gate with shivery fingers perhaps it opens before that startling her wet-y self. Similar car drives near her and a head pops in from inside with his big goofy smile and crinkles by his charming eyes, "Ni!" She exclaims pushing away the drippy hair sticking to her lips with her pinky.

"Pet you're gonna catch a cold. Want me to drop ya?" Niall kinda yells over the rain's loudness. She sighs fog whirling infront of her. Shoves her hand in her trench coat's pocket to seek for heat instead it's all icky and drenching.

"No it's just a tiny walk away. I'll manage — call me will tell ya how my class went." She waves him looking at him from her shoulder while rushing away towards the most elegant house in the block. Niall gives her a thumbs up from before getting out of sight and she tries to hop over the puddles of water to make it to doorsteps.

The water she brings from outside pooling at the dark timber floor - it trails behind her past the pink door as she rushes jumpy-ly where the most hot's in the house and apparently it's more than she expected, "ouch. ouch my eyes!!" She screams covering them at the sight of Harry butt naked pinning his girlfriend against the wall near fire place. Her face turning into a tomato at the horrendous raid but she seems pissed and well . . displeased that Y/N ruined a mind boggling orgasm for her.

Before, they could disattach from eachother to unravel their humiliation Y/N jogged up to attic into the guest room slamming her forehead against the door to knock away the embarrassment. She always barges in Harry's house without announcing but sometimes she forgets he isn't alone everytime his girlfriend comes to live by every two weeks (it's his fault too that he never locks the main door as anytime anyone's coming at his place). Changes into clothes she forgets at her visits, tries to dry her hair with a towel that no-more smells like Harry but expensive fabric softeners and has a pep talk for a minute to show herself down infront of them.

Instinctive voices coming from the Kitchen and she pads towards it. They act like nothing happened. Like Harry wasn't dick deep into Chessie moments ago. Harry ushers her to barstool and hands her a cuppa tea moving on with a kiss to her head. It still gives her butterflies even though how many sense awakening scoldings she gave to herself at 3 ams.

"'M sorry." She squeaks with a wavering smile wrapping her palms around the mug. Harry cackles softly brushing the underbelly of his nose as Chessie cordinated the cutlery drawer, "'s okay moppet. we finished our business when ye' left." Y/N almost choked on her hot beverage gulping it down when Chessie shocked gasp throwing little socksies that were laying ontop of the counter at Harry. Are those of toddler? Adam's out of town so there's no way it could be his daughter's socks. Maybe Chessies's one of friend's?

"Should've called me t' pick y'up. Niall was loafin' around too —- wear it you're turnin' blue, pet." He comes back with a swarmy chunky knitted sweater Anne gifted him at his birthday handing it to Y/N and sitting opposite of her pulling Chessie with her wrist into his lap clearing his throat to bring Y/N's attention back from eyeing the socks on the floor. Her eyes flicker between them chest tightening at the love and glow that radiates from Harry when he looks at her.

No. She's not jealous. Mightyyyy bit yeah –- cause she could never be this lucky to have someone as Harry. He's the most caring towards her since ten years been her compass to the home she wanted, her anchor saving her from sinking and the sixth sense of a blind to her. In fact she thinks he's her soulmate and not every soulmates needs to be romantically involved some could watch them growing beautiful in love. Y/N's doing it. Admiring the maturity of his life with the person that truly makes him enough---or she thinks so.

"How was ye'r meditation class?" Harry asks (she took a semester off as she was unable to haul the burden'; Harry convinced her how her health should be her first priority) breaking a cookie in two giving half of it to Chessie who thanks him with a kiss in return, "Was good been feelin' great!" She chirps pulling the sleeves of the sweater that's drenched in cinnamon vanilla-y smell with lingers of what comes of as Chessie's scent. She assumes they cuddled shit loads.

To subside the gnaw in her brain down she finally asks the question pointing at the sock that nobody gave a heed to pick up, they stop chewing looking at eachother to come up with something. Chessie's face distressed knowing Harry wouldn't hide it from Y/N. He tells her everything and sometimes it could be too personal to share.

"Erm. . I bought 'em — 'cos. . " Harry stammers and Y/N smacks her hand atop her mouth avoiding from giving a shocked reaction, "Oh my goodness ye' guys are pregnant!?" It was enough to make Chessie flinch and hike down Harry's lap.

"No! 'S not what ye'r thinkin'." He shakes his head making Y/N confused. "Then you bought it fo' your fingers? Cause that's the only body part it could fit." She teases him to break through the insight tension around and he chuckles shaking his head grabbing Chessie's hand rubbing her knuckles how he used to when Y/N's anxious and over the edge.

"We want to have a family." His words low as he looks at Chessie but she shrugs in return as 'in it is what it is'. Y/N stomach twisted at that. The thought that one day He's gonna have a family of his own and the little bubble that Y/N would be privy to made her throat dry. Because she has no-one despite Harry and he deserves the whole world not just baby keeping Y/N everytime.

"So . .? What's the problem?" She raises her brows looking between them noticing Harry's fingers fiddle with the flower tea mats, "There are complications from Chessie's side." Chessie sighs in disappointment and Y/N ponders over the idea, clocks working and spindling wildly in her mind.

"I could do that for you guys — since I took a semester off --–" She puts the offer nervously and both of their jaws went slack Harry with an adoring grin while Chessie in hitting shock. "--Erm we could go through a traditional surrogacy."

"Are you sure?" Chessie asks squeezing her shoulder and Y/N nodded taking both of their hands, "Anything for ye' guys!" Harry's eyes glossing over and he leaves his spot sprawling his arms calling for her, "Gimme a hug pet. Life saver ye're - we're gonna take care of ye." They group hug tightly and excitedly.

Sometimes actions could speak much more than words because the lies that words hold could ruin the great bondages.

. . .

They went through the medical procedure two days after Her, Harry and Chessie being guided by their acquired doc. She was nervous and sweaty but Harry's presence beside her soothed out any negativity that was building inside her brain. By womb the babies would be Harry's and Y/N but legally Chessie's and Harry. She's just wishing that everything goes alright cause that happiness of them is million worthy to her.

People might call her stupid and brainless for going through sickness, crankiness, back pains and the pain during labour just to give those babies to someone else (she's too afraid to call them her's cause she knows her emotional attachments could be very destructive) but she loves Harry and love makes you do those thingies.

At the moment she's on the toilet seat eyes bolted shut counting threes with the pregnancy test in her wavering fingers. "Please it better work." A squeal of surprise leaves her lungs when her eyes fell over the two positive lines quickly dragging her panties over she tumbled outside where everyone's waiting for her.

"You guys are pregnant!!" Sounds dumb right? She announces loudly. Harry's and Chessie's heads perked up while everyone cheered beers spilling from the rims. She flashed grins to each one of them splitting her gaze away from Harry giving Chessie a celebratory kiss.

"Thank you. Oh my god, love! Can't belive it." Harry held her from shoulders giving her a toothy smile and it puts her off that Chessie didn't say anything just a nod along Harry. "Me too." She breathes out as he leads her to sofa sitting her cautiously. "We'll visit the doctor tommorrow." He reassures popping his head from Sarah's neck as she hugged him tight.

"We're gonna have a little Y/N and Harry running and pooping it's nappies soon." Everyone went silent. A grimace on Y/N and Chessie's face. Niall doesn't know when to shut up does he? Y/N's gonna strangle him alive. Harry laughed out aloud not caring about the thick tension in room, "I'll rip ye'r hair if you'll turn me baby into a golf freak Niall." His baby.

Niall raises his hands in defence, "No guarantees Harold."

. . .

They had a check-up and Y/N indeed's pregnant. Harry's over the moon. Kissing her forehead. Thanking her for millionth time – to the point she told him to let her watch telly in peace and shut up. Chessie bringing her organic vegan dishes that Y/N isn't a fan of but eats nevertheless under Harry's stern gaze. "'S not about them only I want ye' to be healthy too, pet. Can't be selfish now can I?" He'd insist.

When she'd be sick he'd be at her side giving her back rubs while Chessie stood at the doorframe of washroom. Y/N thinks since she's pregnant her womanly instincts has gotten more sharp as she sensed something's off between the pair.

He'd be at her flat early morning waking her up to have a morning walk with him not giving in her grunts and whines. Who'd want to leave their crispy warm bed to just be out in the cold? A fool like Harry only. Making her brekkie afterwards as a reward giggling and massaging her shoulders when she'd gobble down food like a greedy squirrel, "Easy there love. 'S all yours."

Chessie's back at LA. They had a small argument because Harry wants her to be participating in all of this as much as he's. But, her priorities are not set for this. They never were.

Y/N was at Harry's place nibbling onto chocolate cupcakes Anne sent specifically for her with a note ("my grandchild shouldn't be privy to their Nana's bakin' skills all my love to Y/N." along a winky smiley) when she spilled cold milk all over her nooked tee-shirt. Harry gave her his clothes to change into and baby wipes but she warded him with a scoff that water exists. She has become more feisty with each passing day.

Was discarding the tee when her gaze fell over the sveltest of bump in the mirror taking her breath away. It makes her realize it's all real. She never touches her belly in fear if she'd she will never stop. Now, when the pads of her fingers skim alongs the skin it strips shivers down her spine. She always wanted this. Not in this scenario though. Shaking her head of the thoughts she slips Harry's hoodie over it climbing down the stairs and it causes Harry to snap his head in alert. He stops chopping the carrots spinning to see Y/N standing feet away from him.

"My baby bump's showing." Her voice almost a whisper and it widens Harry's pupils as his hands fell in air midway between them hesitant to reach her, "Can I see?" She bobs her head shyly cheeks blazing red while revealing the bump for Harry to see. It's not like he hasn't seen her before. He has. But, this's more intimate than all of that. It made him fall on his knees. He's a sensitive person in general. Pure from heart but during this period it seems like he's pregnant not Y/N which's quite amusing too.

"She's beautiful." His gaze full of adoration. "She?" Y/N furrows her brow with a smile. He bobbed his head with a grin, "Think so our baby's gonna be she." Now that's the problem cause Y/N doesn't know which ours he's talking about.

"My pregnancy instincts says it's he." He scoffs, "Bet!?" She rolls her eyes forwarding her fist to do the hand shake they do while betting, "If you loose your pink macbook gonna be mine." They solid the deal with their traditional shake.

"Can I touch it?" Harry's asks politely. When she gives him permission he spreads his warm palms flat against her tummy tongue tied with the affection boozing in his veins for the baby that's not out in the world yet. Y/N eyes flutters and her fingers twitches by her sides from carding them into his hair. This's wrong she scolds herself. Her hormones all over the place.

"You wanna send a picture to Chessie?" At this his lips thinned and he gave her a curt nod standing up to fetch his phone, "Sure. But she might be busy..." on the verge of spitting his words in vile.

. . .

Y/N was reading a crime mystery book. Stroking the side of her baby bump carelessly. Cosy in her blanket hoodie telly murmuring in the distance. "Your dad's taste in books is shit, innit?" She peers down with a smile. It's the first time she's talking to them. "We'll read loads of good books together so that when you'll grow up – I could know what to gift you on Christmas." She tries to grab more popcorns from the bowl but it's empty. "Wanna be best aunt out there!!"

"Will you miss me? As much as I'll when we'll be separated?" Tears well up at her waterline. She huffs through her nose running her hand down her belly several times. It's coming; the breakdown she was toiling for days. "I know it sucks I cant be your mommy." Her cravings kicking in and all she want's a strawberry oreo icecream.

"Oh no. Seriously? I'm sad and ye' lil bean want an ice? Let's call your daddy and see what he got." She rings him and he picks up on the third one. Voice groggy from the sleep. She wants to feel bad but she isn't when all her taste buds could think of is strawberry flavour.

"'M cravin' strawberry ice-cream bad. . . Is it possible for ya to bring one?" He's already throwing duvets off his body reaching for his phone and wallet, "No worries pet I'll be there in tick."

"What the fuck Harry? It's three in the mornin'." Chessie groaned from beside him throwing pillow at her face. "We already stored her fridge with alot of food — " She squints about to change the side.

"She's carrying a baby for us Chess. Ye should know better since ya didn't wanted to." She sits up like bullet folding her arms against her chest.

"Thank you for throwing it at my face, H." He doesn't even spare her a glance walking outside and Chessie wants to scream at the top of her lungs. Why did she even agreed to this?

. . .

When he bought her ice-cream she throws herself in his arms kissing his cheek and he giggled in return feeling good when her bump pressed against him. They ate ice-cream with a bantering mess discussing names of the babies, the one that Chessie and Harry decided, him telling her about the little onesies they bought hearing that Y/N stood up taking out a little bag from the chests of drawers.

"I hope you wouldn't mind." She mutters showing him the lil knitted gloves and Harry slid his palm above her's wrapping them snugly, "I don't want ye' to think ya can't love on 'em 'cos after all it's ye'r womb they belong too." Her lip wobbles at his words and she stuffs her face against his chest fisting the hem. It fred away butterflies inside Harry. He sucka his lip. He shouldn't be acting like this. He has a girlfriend that he's gonna have a baby with. They're happy or atleast he thinks so.

They've been bestfriend for years and those feelings never drowned him. Is it because now she's having his babies? Maybe? Harry tries to convince himself.

When he looks down Y/N's drooling onto his shirt deep into slumber. He pecks her hair slipping his arms under her to hold her firmly against his chest. Laying her on the bed tucking her under blankets.

. . .

It sounds like multiple thuds as doctor hovered the ultrasound device over her gelled cover belly. Her belly growing way faster than it should. Her gaze glued at the ceiling fingers crossed. Harry and Chessie holding hands tight gazes fixed at the screen both of them confused at the disoriented image. They all were on the edge of their seats waiting for their turns. Y/N wished that someone could give her a huge warm hug to soothe her nerves down. But, in the first place she shouldn't be worried about the gender as it's none of concern but theirs. It's getting hard day by day.

"It's twins!" Doctor announces chirply getting a wave of silence in return. But, soon the room filled with happy giggles and gasps of Harry as he went to hug Chessie who's expressionless from shock. Y/N pouts wishing it was her. Smiling at doctor when she squeezed her hand in consolation. She's frightened though. How could she deliver two babies? To deal with the roughness that comes along them? Gonna be pretty hectic.

"We hit a jackpot, innit?" He grins down at her kissing Chessie's cheek last time before leaning down to hug her. "Gonna be super carin' with ye' now." Y/N gives a pat to his back in return awkwardly eyeing as Chessie left the room hastily.

. . .

It rakes against the wood harshly as Chessie glided keys of Harry's house towards him without a word. He puts the baby guide book aside arching his brow, "I can't do this anymore. I want an out." Dread. Seeping down Harry's bones.

Guarding himself down he grits, "What do ya mean you want an out? We agreed with full consent of yours Chessie." She shakes her head furiously.

"I didn't sign up for two of 'em Harry I could barely be there for one!!" He puts his elbows on his knees head lowering, "But you wanted to have a family with me didn't ye'?" His eyes tearing and she throws her head back in annoyance finding it difficult to make him understand.

"No. No – No. You wanted a family! Because of your continuous protests I gave in. Told you I wasn't ready for all of this bullshit now we are here." She emphasises. Harry stands up from his seat towering her pointing a finger at her.

He's rageous. Could burn this house down. How could she be so mean? Cowarding back at the last moment.

"Don't call it bullshit." He spits full of venom for the woman he mighty love and she snaps her head other way, "Congrats she finally ruined us and couldn't be more happy – now that she's having your mother fuckin' babies." He stumbles back knocking the coffee table lungs congesting.

"Don't drag her in all of this she's innocent." She laughs ironically looking him square in eyes yelling like a maniac, "Gave her your sperms now you can't hold back from fucking her. I knew it. You were fucking her behind my back weren't you?" She thinks of him like that? A cheater? He loved her and she always thought he was cheating her.

"Don't yell. I don't want to see ye'r cruel face when I come back home." He tries not to croak mustering strength to walk away from her. Exposing himslef to freezing weather locking himself in his car and crying his heart out. Sky crying along him. He punches the steering wheel brutally shouting "why's?" Head falling atlast as he thought of all his dreams shattering at his feet.

She caged him instead of giving him shelter. Replaced the butterflies he used to get from her with a burning hell in his pit, should've been mother of his children now she's just an ex.

The excruciating part is how he's gonna tell Y/N about this? She'll be crushed.

. . .

"Oh my god . . ." It was the roar of thunder that startled her but something else took her attention away. That tinsy kick protruding the taught skin of her belly, ". . . which one of you?" She was extra happy today. It's swimming in her head. It's just a thought but sharing it with Harry wouldn't kill someone. She wanna ask him if she could've one of the babies. It's just she's too much into the moment that she forgot she still have a degree to complete. A career to pursue and a life she always wanted.

When there's a knock at door she tries to stand up with the support of armrest a hand on her back. A gasp falling from her mouth at the sight of Harry's clothes soaked and another when he looks up with bloodshot eyes. Tears dried cheeks and heaving chest seeming utterly devastated.

"Pet what happened!?" She grabs him from elbow pulling him inside and he falls onto his knees smashing his cheeks against her showing tummy -- a sob recking through him, "Harry you're scarin' me. Tell me what happened is everything okay?"

"Chessie don't want these babies - sh-she didn't wanna ruin her career but atlast agreed . . . n-n now she doesn't want 'em 'n wants an out." He stutters. White noise deafening Y/N's ears and she steps back with expressions as if she's scared. Horrified of the future.

"It means she never had complications? She just didn't wanted her body to go through all of this." When Harry didn't fill in to her inquiry she flopped onto sofa from the shock shoving her face into her palms giving out a cry of hurt at her stupidity.

"God. I'm such an idiot!" He shakes his head crawling towards her with sad eyes and lil hiccups, "No please don'tcha say that. We'll figure it out yeah? Never wanted this t'happen." God. How bad he wants her to assure him that it'll be alright.

"You'll figure out what, huh!? Leaving them just like she did!?" Swear Harry felt a dagger jabbing it's way into his heart more upsetting tears spilling down his throat. "I hate you guys. They're none of your babies from now on. . ."

"Leave." She orders him wiping her tears roughly with the sleeve of her jumper. Running out of breath with each sniffle. Raises her hand stopping him to step forward and protest, "I said leave before I make you!!" He nods inhaling breath of remorse looking at the ceiling for a second then to her.

"Before, that want ya t'know. I still want 'em. They're mine. How could I not? love 'em. Hope ya'll forgive me." Then it's just sobs of Y/N taking over the buzz of telly as the door ticks. He didn't leave though. He's too afraid to. His back sliding against her door knees closing against his chest letting it all dawn upon him. His green luscious orbs hooding with sadness and the fluff of his curls.

Dunno if Y/N would be able to forgive him.

. . .

He woke up to a boot nudging to his thigh squinting up to find Niall stating down at him with consoling eyes. Poor Harry slept in the hallway. His neck sore and limbs stoned.

"Heard it 'lad. Was suspicious with Chessie long way." He helps Harry stand up patting his shoulders, "Y/N called ye'?" He grogs rubbing his eye with knuckles. When Niall confirms he quips with pleading eyes in a low whisper knowing he'll get his hair ripped if that furious little mama bunny will find him outside.

"Ye' think she'll forgive meh?" Niall chuckles to light up the situation, "'course H. Do ya think our pet's that ruthel—" He bites his tongue. Harry's gaze following the snap of his neck when the door opened revealing Y/N in a lilac chunky sweater. Puffy eyes and swollen lips. Harry feeling like a dickhead at her condition. It's all his fault. Then their eyes fall at the piping hot cuppa of tea in her hand.

With a stoic face she hands it to Harry and pulls Niall inside slamming the door at curly boy's face. So, she knew he was there sharing a door with her the whole night.

. . .

"Isn't it a good thing thou, love?" Niall smiles. He's chill in all of this. Watching it unwrap. They were meant for eachother Niall thinks so, "You wanted one of 'em and ended up havin' a whole bean can." She groans throwing her peach plushie at his chest. A smile swirming up her lips at his silly statement now that she's more stable less sad.

"You're the absolute worst, Ni!" He holds her cold hands tugging her close to make her look, "Want ya to forgive H. He did nothin' wrong, pet." When she pouts ruffling the silk strands of her rug with her feet he grabs her chin.

"Remember how happy he was? Don't go mad on him yeah?" She bobs her head not meeting his gaze. Meanwhile, there's knock at the door and Niall takes it laughing to himself softly at the box of doughnuts with a note.

"What is it?" He's already flopping beside her hooking his nimble finger around the white doughnut with rainbow sprinkles, "If I'd have known pregnant ladies gets treated this way. Would be havin' one baby every year." She smacks him in belly and unlatches the note reading it with a sucked lip.

Ye'r antenatal class's tommorrow. Don't forget to take ye vitamins :)

How gentle, calm and optimistic Harry could be needles her some.

. . .

Harry's waiting for her in the car fiddling with the radio. He isn't gonna lie. He's been going through a heartbreak. To cope with it he wants to accompany Y/N in her parent craft classes. When she waddles towards his car cosied up in a yellow baggy sweater and a cardigan Harry remembers she stole from him ages ago he mighty scrunched his nose in adoration at her cuteness.

Her nose pink and cheeks flushing as she slips into her seat, "Can you stop bringin' me stuff. I know how to take care of myself." She nips at him when he forwards her a kale smoothie. He doesn't seem to mind. Both, of them knows very well she's trying to avoid drinking it. She finds it yucky!

"Wanna take care of ya'll is all." He mumbles putting it in her side's cup holder. Ya'll .She regrets it instantly. Damn his puppy eyes!

. . .

"Mr. Styles and . . . Miss Y/N." The instructor calls them and they both raises their hand awkwardly as if in elementary school. "You're the parents of twin right?" She asks. Y/N wanted to say that their supposed to be parent ran off from the fear. But, she couldn't. Could never. It'll be like rubbing salt to his wounds. Bestfriends don't do that shit even in their most anger.

"Yes." She confirms. When Harry didn't. Scared if he might say something wrong. "Ok then! Lay your mats n' have a seat." Harry guides her with the little of his hand on her back. Her shoulder nudging his taut chest, and goosebumps pimples at her skin when his fingers brushes the side of her belly as he helps her sit down.

She takes an all rounder of the room and none of the parents looks like they're here to prepare for war unlike them. She shyly waves at the two mothers beside her and Harry twinges his lip equally flustered as her.

They start with relaxation and breathing exercises. Telling Y/N to let herself loose in Harry's arms. She fumbles with the hem of her sweater when his fingers gingerly winked at her sides and the lull of his breath hit her earlobe.

"Can ya stop breathing like, THAT!?" She whisper yells twisting to give him a sharp glare full of spleen elbow poking at his side abs, "Like what!?" He half squeaks peering down at her with doe eyes palms flat at sides to convey his surprise.

"Like a train engine whistling -- it's annoying." She mutters rolling her eyes and turning back to listen to instructor. "Now, I can't even breath without ye' comin' fo' me throat?" He grits with a kink of brows and when she confirms with a no --- He gasps dramatically. He hates her hormones little bitches.

It's gonna be a long journey of Hell for them.

. . .

"Are you hungry?" He asks turning the heat on knowing how cold her feet could get in the span of seconds. She huffs trying to buckle her belt and it squirms a fond smile out of him at her cute effort to be put in place due to her bump. If he'd coo. She'd rip him into tiny bits. It's better if he gazes away.

"Does it mean emptying your pocket?" She arches her brow sinking into her seat. "Bitso. . " He chuckles softly drumming at the steering wheel.

"Then I'd love to." She adds with a smirk. Clasping her hands atop her heart outta excitement. It makes him shake his poof of hickorey curls at her silliness.

They end up taking a takeout of onion loaded cheese burgers. Greasy fries. An iced-tea and a box of cookies from Babara's shop a block away from Harry's house.

"Wanna choose fo' ye'rself?" He asked her before going inside and she denied with a worried expression. Not knowing how she'll explain all of this to Babara who's her one of the good friends from UNI. Harry respects that. If she isn't ready to talk about it he isn't gonna pressurize her. They've been dodging the serious talk since she let him take to parental classes. Knows one day or another they've to decide how it's all gonna work.

. . .

Good food can make you more high than actual drugs. Licking their fingers off now they feel all sleepy and lazy sitting on the comfortable sofa watching telly with hooded eyes.

Harry's cheek smushed adorably against her baby bump ears tuned into what his babies are talking about.

"You know what? 'S not about winners or loosers. Bu' I won." She bubble hiccups slumping deeper with sugar rush hitting her. "Huh? Harry mumbles eyes drooping. The cotton balls of snowflakes glittering outside, collecting at the window and foging them up.

"I get to have babies of my bestfriend and this nice foodddd — 'n what did Chessie got? No babies and no happy feeling of being their mother." Harry shots up from his snooze blinking up at her and she quickly takes it back regret eating her alive, "'m sorry it slipped."

"No!!" He almost shouts cupping her cheeks making her look at him. His dimples deeps that someone could scoop them like an ice-cream. He gives her an eskimo kiss that makes her veins run with glittery blood.

"I wan' ye' to be the mother of me babies." No hesitation. No dithering. Just him asking for the tinsy bit of her heart. For her forgiveness. For the love they've kept blind eye for years. "We'll figure this out, yeah?" He murmurs their lips brushing and breaths kissing. Pulling back with a forehead kiss.

She lives for forehead kisses makes her shallow tin heart explode with glittery firecrackers.

She nods to give him the affirmation that she wants what he wants.

.

[yandere-wishes]

⭐Yandere Joestars⭐

(Parts 1-7 + Bonus Charcter: Joseph and Johnny’s characterizations are based off @dear-yandere​ ‘s interperations) I tried to write this mostly in the Joestars' POV. Their respective darlings resemble lifelike dolls rather than human beings to further illustrate how out of touch with reality the Jojos have become.

Warnings: Gore, kidnapping, dehumanization.

Edited: By the amazing Peri!! (@tealyjade-libran )

⭐Jonathan Joestar is possessive. ⭐

It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it...

It's an old saying, one that Jonathan remembers from an antique storybook his mother use to read him. It didn't mean anything back then, when he was still an infant too young and new, to fully comprehend what "owning" and "losing" was. But as the years ticked by faster than any clock could keep track of, things started to change. What had once been a passing quote in a chivalrous story about knights and dragons, soon turned into the epitome of Jonathan Joestar's life. 

Soon love wasn't about saving a princess or impressing the neighborhood girls with his boxing skills. No, all too soon love became about own and guarding. 

There may have been a time -long before "Jojo" and Dio met- when Jonathan was just like any other gentleman. Tender and sweet, flirtish at gatherings and charming in ladies' companies...but that was a Jonathan from a could-be-past that had been demolished the minute Dio Brando stepped foot onto the Joestar estate. From then on things depleted all so quickly. Everything Jonathan had come to unconsciously cherished had been so easily stripped from him by his beloved new "brother". 

Everything he loved had been killed, destroyed, or broken in some inhuman way. His friends had abandoned him, his lover had distorted him, his father didn't even notice him...

"It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it". The second time he hears that phrase, it freezes him to the pavement, his body star-struck like he just received a message from the heavens. Although it's rather peculiar, why "heaven" would convey a message to him in such an unholy place. 

With Dio having practically kicked Jonathan out of the mansion and countryside. Jojo had no other place to go but the back allies of London. Sure he still tried to be home for supper and bedtime and any other time his father may get an inkling of his absence. But when there was no need to 'appear' Jonathan took to the London streets away from Dio and his lackeys. 

In fate's bizarre game, it's in a backstreet that reeks of days old licker and rotting flesh of paupers that no one has bothered to bury. That Jojo hears that life-defining idiom once more. His dulling sapphire blue eyes follow the mist of those melodious words. Staring until they're practically itching to cut through his sockets and run after those little words. But they stop right before they can leave their eyelets, they stop and stare at the figure that strolls out of the shadows, in such a way, that would make Jojo's father slap him across the face for being "barbarous".  

It's luck or fate or maybe even destiny that leads the heir of the Joestar legacy to meet his darling in the slums of England. 

"How my heart resonates when I lay my weary eyes on your enchanting face..."

There's an odd sweetness about the naivety that surrounds his little friend. A sort of innocence that comes with not knowing about the hell that he's gone through. It's charming in a moderate way, his darling can't come to despise him if they haven't got a clue who he is. Keeping both his worlds as far apart as possible is really the only option left. Dio and his friends can't hurt his new friend? Lover? Companion? In actuality, Jonathan really doesn't know what you are to him. At first, you're merely a distraction from his crumbling, lonely shell of an existence. A sort of invisible pillar holding up London's bridge before it collapses into the  River Thames. Sure he views you as another person, unlike the other noblemen Jonathan has no desire to treat you as anything less than a respectable young lady despite your social statutes. 

 Dio can have the noblemen and ladies, he can have all of George's affection and favor, Heck Dio can have the whole goddamn world for all Jonathan cares. So long as he has his darling, his sunflower, his only means for living, then he will be content. 

Jojo lost everything he once loved, but he swears it to every star in the night sky that'll preserve his darling from the wickedness that runs this cruel world. He'll cherish her while she's still in his arms...

He'll protect her, just like the knights did in the old bedtime stories his mother would tell him. 

"...I swear on my honor as a Joestar that I shall never lose you to the likes of anyone, I'll be a true gentleman, a true knight and I'll protect you from any who wishes cause you harm."

⭐Joseph Joestar is Protective and all so patronizing.⭐

Why must Love hurt so much?

It's solitude, pure utter solitude that attracts Joseph to his darling. Oh sure, he must have known them from an earlier time in his life, back when the words Hammon and Ripple just sounded like fancy dessert names. Back when he was still a naive kid wishing on every goddamn star that he could just meet one of his parents for a fraction of a second. Back when life was easy when everything made sense. That's when he first met his darling. Although all so many years ago he probably just thought of them as the little sister he never got a chance of having. 

There's a numbness growing inside him now that his life has slipped off its axes, hurling into unknown darkness that plagues him in the form of Pillarmen and red gems. 

Everywhere he looks there's a reminder that nothing's going back to the way it used to be. No waking up to Granny Erina's voice calling him down for breakfast, no running around chasing Old Man Speedwagon. Everything is gone, replaced by Lisa Lisa's brutal training and Ceaser's endless taunting. 

Day by day nothing changes, but once he looks back every little thing is different. Ruptured and mangled into something unrecognizable. 

But then there's his darling. Someone -or rather something- that's still the same. Just like before. Her smile is still the same as ever, bright and cheery as she runs up to him wrapping her arms around his abdomen muttering about how much she missed her "Dear Big Brother".

(Y/N) is a comfort, a familiarity in a strange new world. She's something so frail and vulnerable, not to mention naive. Thrusted into a world where horror writers don't dare venture into. It's so likely that she'd be captured by one of Kar's zombie vampire things or -even worse- charmed by Caesar’s silver tongue. 

It's thoughts like these that haunt Joseph at night, keep him up and wandering into her room just to gaze at her sleeping form. He's lucid enough to know how it might look. Like he's the bad guy trying to take advantage of a defenseless little girl. But he can justify his actions, he's her big brother, he has to watch over especially when she's at her most vulnerable. If Ceaser ever tried anything or some vampire freak snatched her away in the dead of night, Joseph would never forgive himself!

But what does he get for all his efforts? What does he get for all his sleepless nights and hours upon hours of worrying? Just a small smile and a fleeting kiss on the cheek. No sincere, "Thank you big brother," or, "You're my hero Joseph!" Nothing, nothing worthwhile anyway. 

Now it's a competition, a battle to the death if it has to be -funny how he takes this more seriously than his match against Wamuu.- He's competitive by nature and he's willing to do anything to earn his darling's affection once more. He doesn't care who he has to beat within an inch of their life so long as he can have his darling back in his arms.

There is an aftermath to all of these, once all the fighting has ended and the battle's won. Once Joseph has finally claimed his prize. There's a certain way his darling has to act. She’s got to smile and play the role of the dotting little sister once more. Just so Joseph can justify his actions...

"And your next line is, 'I love you more than anything else big brother Joseph!'...at least I wish it was." 

⭐Jotaro Kujo is cold and sadistic.⭐

Never learned how to love...

A lover by Jotaro's book is nothing more than a walking, talking doll. Someone who cooks meals, irons clothes, and kisses him on the cheek before he leaves for the day. Sure they have other uses, in flares of passionate moments, they're something to hold onto, another pair of limbs to get tangled in. Something hot and solid, someone to push down, to weigh his force on. 

That's it, that's all there is to it...

A lover and a convenient toy are one of the same. 

He knows it's wrong to think about someone that way. To deprive a living thing of all their thoughts and feelings just so it's suitable for him. But at the end of the day who wants to hear idle chatter and gossip or go outside for walks in crowded areas. All too social, it's all so troublesome. All Jotaro wants is a closed-off life, away from the scums of the earth...away from people in general. 

It's such an inconvenience to seek out a lover, to hassle through dates and meetups in hopes of finding someone that clicks. Jojo would even go so far as to call it wishful thinking. So it has to be a pure accident that he even meets his darling. They're just someone who gets tangled in with the crusaders. A perfect living perception of 'wrong place, wrong time'. Someone who's life gets blown to bits and shambles just because fate decided to play a cruel joke on them. 

And that's what piqued Jotaro's interest. The desperate, depleted look of pain cemented over their face. The sparse dying gleam of determination that blazes within their eyes. Oh, what Jotaro wouldn't do to snuff that little ray of hope. To watch as what little purpose they have is ripped from their arms. What he wouldn't do to see them in pain...

Pain is submission, that's really all Jojo wants. A darling submits, not out of their own free will, but because every little thing they've ever loved has been slaughtered, all that they cherished has been stolen from them. 

But it's not enough 

It's never enough

Although Jotaro adores the looks of anguish that decorates his lover's face. There's something more satisfying about maltreating them. About leaving marks all over, about leaving bruises that never lose their violet glow. He's claiming his darling, physically and mentally. Not a single day goes that Jotaro doesn't remind his lover who they belong to. From verbal taunts that plague his darling's mind day and night, to punches that break bones leaving them paralyzed on the floor begging for help, to cuts that are just a little too deep to ever heal properly. 

Even when his darling is behaving, even when the poor little thing does everything her lover tells her to do, there's still going to be some sort of violence directed at her. Some backhanded remark about how useless they are just because they couldn't follow his mother's recipe. Some sort of blow just for greeting him 'too late'. Trivial things morph into punishments, just for Jotaro's sick amusement.

At his core, Jotaro is an unresponsive man, one with no regard for how others feel. He's distant, it's a trait he can't change. He likes how he does things, how there's no room for slip-ups when it's only him. Even his darling isn't someone he'd consider opening up to. Their opinion of him doesn't matter and their feelings are irrelevant. Most days he's gone until the last possible moment, leaving his darling an endless amount of time to mull over every word and scar. 

But here's the catch.

As the clock ticks by, as the nights and days begin to merge into an endless existence, as all hope burns in the pits of hell, darling's mind is also going to stray. Ever so slowly losing its perception of reality. 

'Maybe' spiders begin to spin webs of doubt through darling's empty cranium. The isolation begins to bite at her skin like the razor-sharp fangs of frostbite. They start to crave Jotaro's harsh touches, they start to miss the venom-like words. Every insult and slap to the face is welcomed, all the misplaced anger and death threats start to feel like sweet kisses and flowery touches. 

Poor darling no longer sees big scary Jotaro as a monster. They've lost the ability to see him for what he truly is.

And what happens when Jotaro does finally come home? Oh, how little (y/n) will ravish in the gut kicks and loathsome words. How she'll take every beating with a sweet sugar-coated smile.

Cause this is her life now. A meaningless existence that revolves around Jotaro and his bleak personality. A life that's only worth living when Jotaro is around.

Is it even a life?

"Yare yare daze you're such a hassle, be glad I keep you around...”

⭐Josuke is obsessive with delusional tendencies.⭐

Maybe I'm the one you'll fall in love with next...

Just like his "father" Joseph, Josuke is stuck in a perpetual state between diaphanous and phantasm.

There's something all too wrong with Morioh nowadays. The narrow streets and verbose buildings have started to feel like a transparent cage. The town has always been small, barely reaching a population of 3,000 despite all the new families that keep moving in.

Nevertheless, everything has dulled, faded, and withered into a monochrome collage. The layers of repetitiveness had finally begun to pick at Joskue's nerves...

And yet somehow, by some diabolical twist of fate. In the mists of the oceans of familiarity, Josuke’s eyes grab onto some shimmering pearl lounged into between the crowd of familiar faces. 

Sure he's seen this girl before, but he's never actually seen her. Never stopped to look at the odd way their eyes twinkle like newborn stars or how their skin shimmers with the glow of a thousand suns. 

One second is all it took, a fleeting compliment as you passed by Jojo in the peppermint flavored afternoon. Your hair flowing like a tapestry of the galaxy as you disappeared in the crowd of dead pulsars. Not a care in the world, not for him, not for anyone.  

Destiny was definitely up to its old cruel tricks again. 

He's not stalking. Josuke will swear on his grandfather's grave that he'd never "stalk" a harmless little girl, like some distorted maniac. He just happens to bump into you at the beauty parlor when he's picking up a new brand of hairspray. And it's totally an accident when he meets you out in the abandoned fields! Honest! It's not his fault fate wants the two of you to keep meeting, it's not his fault that you guys are meant to be!

It's not technically a friendship that you two start to build up, it's far from one. Friends don't dream about sugar-filled kisses behind school walls. Or about ice cream that tastes like scandalous touches and candy induced moans. No, Joskue isn't your friend, he NEVER wanted to be your friend. He knows that! He knows what he wants...but with each passing day, he's beginning to doubt that you know that. 

He'd never realized he's been so sensitive on you. So entranced by your out of tune voice that muttered rather than spoke. He's seldom been so eager to throw a punch and crack his knuckles on someone's skull, just for saying you looked "lovely today". 

Whenever his eyes don't land on you, a rage-filled volcano bubbles in the pit of his gut, uncontrollable anger that festers inside of him, like lava waiting to spill out and burn anyone that wanders too close. His palms itch with the need to hold you, to feel your soft skin rubbing against his. 

The jealousy is always there, pricking at his skin like rose thrones. Until they inevitably cut through his flesh and make him lose his composure. He's ready to kick and punch and hurt and kill anyone that comes too close to you, anyone that saunters off their orbit and makes a beeline for you, disturbing the balance of solitude that Josuke so eagerly sets you into.

Sometimes in the dead of night, when the world has finally dozed off, Joskue's mind begins to wonder. He thinks the way he feels about you is the same way an addict feels about his drugs. Maybe to him, you're even more addicting than heroin and ecstasy...and yet he can't quit you, he just doesn't want to quit you. Nothing in this world could compare to your sweet voice that tickles his ear when you lean in, to whisper a secret, or the may your full lips move when you throw another honey-filled insult at him. 

He prefers when you're alone when he's the only one you talk to. 

Sure there are exceptions like everything in life, although in the end  

there's a sort of backhanded irony.

It's those exceptions that are going to hurt him in the. 

Josuke trusts his friends, he knows that Okuyasu and Koichi would never do anything to hurt him...

But you're not on that list and to be fair you're surely the only one who can truly hurt him.

You fall for a friend of his. Not him, not the boy that's been driving himself insane just to earn a smile from you, not the boy that let you get away with insulting his hair and poking insults at his look, not him never him, it just can't be him.

"You're like an older brother to me"...Did you wash your mouth with acid before you spat those words at him? Did you intend to lace your words with knives and blades and rubbing alcohol before you stabbed him? It's figurative, sure. But it might as well be literal. No pain, no cut, no punch from any stand would ever hurt so much! You really don't know what you do to him, do you?

"I'm happy for you," it's a lie, blank and simple. Automatic words that he's practiced in the mirror a thousand and one times. He'd rather watch you suffocate on your own blood than in the arms of another man. He'd rather break every bone in your body than watch you kiss one of his friends. 

How on earth had he ever come to love you? Someone as cruel and cold. Were you even human? You resembled some ice stand more than a flesh and blood person. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM.

He really hadn't meant for it to become an addiction, he hadn't meant to get all so used to the crunch of bones beneath his foot, and the bloodied lips quivering, shuttering out apologizes for having the gall to utter your name in his presence. But there's only so much a teenage boy can take, only so much torture that he can bury inside with a moonlight smile. 

Addictions really do funny things to semi-sane people, huh?

It's a split-second decision, done in the heat of an all so regular moment. It's just a simple half-hearted punch when you beat him at another videogame. Then another

And another

And another

Then a crack, another and another, and before either of you knew it you're on the floor screaming out in pure agony. 

Josuke vows he's not being cruel when he breaks your bones so delicately. He can justify every crack, every fracture. Although it's rather repetitive and in certain cases borderline petty. 

Five broken bones on your left leg just for "kissing" your new boyfriend. Your right leg is bent at an angle you're sure it's not meant to be. All because you hugged said new lover before going to class. 

Josuke's once liquidy blue eyes that held the softness of clouds have been dulled over by a sort of thick mania. His once soft touch is nothing but nails digging into already bruised tissue. His lips wobbling as stray tears flow past his eyes. Muttering apologies and stuttering curses at both you and himself.

It's not really like his darling can leave after that incident. Josuke is known around town as the boy with a diamond heart. There's no way in hell anyone will believe what he did to you. It's just better, safer, to stick close to him, to swallow the indignities and paint a loving smile over your face when you gaze into his depraved eyes. 

It's better to pretend to love him, rather than have another limb broken...

"Come on (Y/N), it's just a little crack. If you promise to give me a tiny kiss I'll let Crazy Diamond fix you right up."

⭐Giorno Giovanna is sneaky and manipulative. ⭐

Sono pazzo di te. Sei la cosa più bella che mi sia mai capitata...

There's a sleekness to Giorno, a cunning that's hidden behind layers of charisma and charm mimicking that of his birth father's. It's so easy for him to fool his darling into believing that he's a charming prince from a storybook. He's the good guy trying all so damn hard to make his dream a reality. He's admirable, he's noble, he's Giorno Giovana, the golden boy.  

It's not like he ever intends to hurt his darling. He'd never dream of laying a hand on them, he's all too familiar with the wounds that come from endless beatings. The bruises and phantom pains, that get worse as the days slip by. He knows real pain, and unlike all so many others on both sides of his family, Giorno doesn't want his lover to experience an uncia of it. 

He'd never repeat what his stepfather and mother did to him. He's going to try and do everything he can to make sure that his darling is safe...

Because isn't that what's important? To make sure the one you love is safe. To make sure they don't get swept off their feet by some masquerading drunkard or taken advantage of by some fanciful sadist. 

Giorno will do anything to keep his darling safe, even if it means tampering with their mind a little. Nothing too serious, he'd never even considered changing anything about them. Although isolating them isn't completely off the table and a few verbal threats are fine from time to time. Just for precaution...

Giorno is a rather determined boy, he'll go to any lengths to isolate his lover. Scaring away friends by letting Gold Experience give them a small out of body experience. If they're persistent then he can't guarantee that that out-of-body experience will simply remain an experience much longer. It's not out of malice, but it's what must be done for the sake of his darling, the only other thing he cares about.

There's a shift, a difference between the young naive Giorno Giovanna, the golden boy with starry eyes, and the new boss of Passione, the Mafioso who holds the whole country in the palm of his hand. 

Oh sure, as a simple Soldato Giorno was dangerous in his own right. But Don Giorno? He's the sort of monster written about in the grimmest fairy tales. Wearing the appearance of a true king but underneath the luxury suits and priceless watches, he's just another greedy, fire-breathing dragon.

As the Don of Italy's most influential gang, Giorno's manipulation tactics have gotten rather ....hazardous. He doesn't have time to waste getting rid of every single person that poses a threat to his darling. If someone looks their way, he'll send some goons to take care of them. 

Although it's so much easier to keep his lover locked away, he even has the perfect excuse now. He's the head of the mafia, he has all so many enemies who jump at the opportunity to hurt him in some way. So he has to keep his defenseless little lover locked away in some mansion that's all so far away. 

He's also a bit more violent now. Giorno's more physical, ready to break a bone just for a wrong word or a cracked jaw from a punch for even asking to go outside. He blames it on the stress of running an organization...although it's more likely that all the power from passion has begun to rinse away Giorno's caring side. 

"Cuore mio, Resta con me per sempre"

⭐Jolyne Kujo is clingy and obsessive and delusional.⭐

I can't stay away from you...

Jolyne is a rather condescending yandere. Her rough ragged exterior does little to hide the clingy neediness that writhes inside her shattered heart.

She's soft, dependent, desperate at best. Wanting her darling to approve of every tiny trifling thing she does. Needing their words of praise and approving smiles to have the courage to live another day. 

At times it seems like the only thing keeping Jojo alive is the  "good girl!" and "I'm proud of you!" her darling throws her way. Chanting the words of praise with closed eyes and fluttering smiles of anxiety. 

It's difficult to make her sweetheart realize how virulent this relationship is, far too hard to call Jolyne a Yandere. The derogatory term applies to someone who ceases all control from their lover, who locks them in a basement, and throws away the key. It applies to murders and 

stalkers and lunatics that roam the streets in the dead of full moon nights. It applies to those who were thrown into Green Dolphin for a reason.

 Not to some girl whose life has been demolished over and over and over again. 

Not to the girl with a star birthmark that follows her darling around like a lost puppy in the freezing rain. 

But even Jolyn has her limits. She's been let down time and time again, abandoned and framed by those she thought she loved unconditionally. From friends to boyfriends to even her own father, everyone leaves, they take what they want, and then they leave. 

Flesh like strings, stitched into a web of antithesis and distraught moods, act as a  solid, interchangeable reminder of who really holds the power in this relationship. Of how Jolyne can go from needing her darling to controlling her darling in just a fraction of a heartbeat. She loves them, she swears she does...but they need to stay close to her, they need to only think about her. 

Her addiction gets worse as the days tick by. It's less romantic, less loving. Morphing into a dependency, a compulsion. Rotting thoughts of her darling suddenly leaving, plague her every waking moment. The once semi pleasant conversations between her lover and her friends, get cut off like a severed limb. 

Even Hermes and Foo Fighters aren't "good enough" to be around Jolyne’s lover. She's all so, scared they'll try to take them from her. Stealing the ONLY good thing in her life.

There's a certain degree of control that Jolyne's willing to give to her darling. A sort of freedom to make, revolting appalling choices, so long as they include her. A freedom to boss her around and make her submit. Her darling is free, so long as that freedom revolves around Jolyne.

"(Y/N)~ don't look at them! You should only focus on me! I'm supposed to be your world!"

⭐Johnny Joestar is sadistic and manipulative.⭐

Arrogance disguised as affection...

It's all degradation, all harsh words that sting worse than bullet wounds. Glares from dull wicked blue eyes that might as well kill, cause it's better than the alternative. Smirks that make being alive so damn distasteful. Kisses that engrave the lingering taste of rotting lead into your tongue.

Johnny isn't sweet, he doesn't smile at his little sweetheart. He doesn't pat their head and kiss their temples while uttering sweet nothings into their blushing ear. No, his lover doesn't deserve a honey-coated life. They don't deserve to have what was stolen from him by his so-called "loved ones". Instead, he uses them as a living dart board, for both his acid-laced words and bullet-like fingernails. 

There's no love when it comes to Jojo. He doesn't want to waste time on something so frivolous as a "significant other". But he does like having someone -or rather something- to play with, a form of entertainment that bends at his will. Not a pushover, not someone who's too proud either. But a living doll that can take a few verbal spats and survive an armada of fingernail bullets through the stomach. 

Oh, sure he wants to break them, having a toy that's so conflicted, that questions their own sanity is so much more fun. But it's the intervals that count. Johnny wants to be the one to break his darling. To engrave the helpless look of distress into his memory. He wants to preserve every scream, every tear. That's the whole purpose of even keeping a darling. 

Johnny rarely lets his darling out of his sight. It's so much easier to play with their mind if he's the only one they ever talk to. They'll become so easily dependent on him if he's their only companion. Although sometimes Gyro can get a little too touchy and friendly. And there will be occasions when Hot Pants start to pry into the darling and Jojo's personal life. But the incidents are few and far between. Not like Johnny minds, if anything these minor secondary "meetups" are useful to the paraplegic jockey. They refill his darling with the most precious thing..." Hope". Just so Johnny can beat it out of them all over again.  

There's a darkness that resides deep within Johnny. A toxicity that laces his actions. His life is miserable and he's damn well sure it'll always be that way.....

So why not take his lover down with him?

"Don't you love me darlin' ? Cause I certainly don't love ya."

⭐Jorge Joestar is delusional and obsessive.⭐

What if we lost our minds, together?

A love story better than his parents, that's all Jorge wants. Flower field dates, and quick lingering kisses before midnight. Something sweet, that doesn't have a macabre end. A romance without body-snatching vampires and zombies that shed their flesh. Something normal, gentle, lovable. 

Although with the family he's been born into and the kind of things that keep finding him. Jorge doubts he's ever going to get such a hopeful love life. He's all so desperate to carve a life for himself outside of his family's shadow, but in the end, it's simply eager wishing. 

He's not exactly sure what he's even looking for in a lover. Someone sweet but strong-willed, an average answer. Someone who bears a sort of resemblance to Lisa Lisa. Not physically but rather mentally, he's not a coward, he swears he's not, but he just wants someone who can protect him. A fair exchange in his eyes. His lover will guard him against the bullies and freaks of the island and in turn, he'll protect them from the grim ghouls that run amok through the world. Although when push comes to shove he isn't sure if he'll really be 'protecting' his lover or running away and hiding somewhere with them.

He just wants to fall in love and not go insane, a reasonable request, if he hadn't seen the worst that the world has to offer. It's just wishful thinking, sweet dreams for a boy designed to attract trouble. 

He doesn't want to have conversations with his dead lover's head. He doesn't want to wear their skin and waltz around town. He doesn't want any of that creepy, supernatural stuff that destroyed his parent's love. 

He just wants normal. But as the years slip by Jorge's grip on "normal" slowly begins to decay.

Normal is something, but what that something is has become a blur. Normal isn't vampires and zombies and ghost clowns that throw nooses around people's necks...Yet on the other hand maybe it is? 

He's so far gone that he can't even differentiate between methodical and irregular. His brain's capacity to understand the difference has gotten so altered and broken.

Once he finds his darling he does try to act like the ordinary people of the Canary Islands or England, depending on where he's residing at the time. He tries to follow the mode, just to impress his lover. It's a façade, a bloody masquerade that's bound to deteriorate once he and his lover have settled down.

Although a poetic, domestic life had always been Jorge's dream, he soon comes to learn that it just doesn't suit him. Jorge's paranoia starts to increase. It's comical at first, the way his eyes dart to closed doors, half expecting a killer to emerge. Although the same paranoid tendencies can become rather smothering at times. He's all so certain something is going to jump out of the shadows, some creature with sharp fangs and knife-like claws is going to rip his lover's body to rags. 

He's gotten rather umbrageous now that he's the one who's married and living in the Joestar estate. His tendency to run away from any form of conflict has morphed into a rogue-like sense, much similar to a rabid dog barking at anyone who gets too close to its territory. He keeps his darling locked away inside, triple-checking the locks to make sure no one or thing can get in. He avoids the probing disquieting neighbors who still speak ill of his widowed mother and murmurs about the "curses" bestowed on the Joestar bloodline. Sometimes even getting physical when the insults shift towards him and his new lover. 

Punches are thrown.

Insults exchanged.

And then the door and windows are locked once more.

Leaving both Jorge and his darling in the chilling company of the semi alive shadows.

It's safer in the basement. It has to be safer down there. After all his mother kept his father's severed head down there for decades before anyone found it. So it's only sensible that his lover will also be safe, tucked away in the darkness of a brick room some few meters under the earth. He's not acting like his mother -and deep down he prays that this isn't something his late father would ever even consider doing- It's a thin line of justification, but he can reason with himself so long as he knows it's not something his other family members have ever done. He does try to keep his darling comfortable down there. Buying them the most luxurious furniture and comfortable bedding. Constantly bringing them new forms of entertainment. 

Keeping them in this preserved state is what any reasonable person would do. Not just another insanity driven Joestar.

"It's for your own safety" he's repeated that phrase an umpteenth amount of times, although every time the sculpted words leave his tongue, Jorge becomes less sure of who he's really trying to convince. 

Jorge is all so sure that he's doing all of this for both his lover's safety and to erase whatever misfortune follows around the Joestars, like an airy plague. Even his enrolling for the great war is done with this mindset...

Even though in the end it's also this mindset that gets him killed. Leaving his darling a wide window to freedom. 

"Darling, what do you think when you look at me?"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

[theangrypokemaniac]

There's a sneering attitude that the dub is inherently inferior solely for being a dub, and when I say 'dub' I mean the American one. No one attacks the South American interpretation, funnily enough, or the variety that exist globally.

Why not if foreign languages are so abhorrent?  Do you think it's kewl to hate America?

That's so original you know.

If the moan centres on the dub changing certain things, well that's a pointless stance, because it's impossible to do otherwise.

What's accepted in one country is not always permitted elsewhere, so either you make those alterations or it's never shown. I'd prefer seeing a slightly toned down version rather than have it never reach the West at all.

This is without considering the technical obstacles that a direct translation brings. The words do have to fit the mouth movements, and if they don't, truncation must follow.

America and Japan are different; the population of the former are not going to comprehend the references to the latter's history and culture, which necessitates some divergence from the original to give it mass appeal.

Anime is a branch of entertainment. It has to attract the public's good will to stay in business. If impenetrable, it'll fail, with all the resulting unemployment and finacial losses that brings.

Those in charge of dubbing understandably think they're on safer ground promoting familiarity rather than the strange, but that's not to say Pokémon was stripped of its identity. On the contrary, it was like nothing I'd ever encountered before.

I may have watched Western cartoons then, but the idea of doing so now is silly. I won't give time to any modern animation unless it's Japanese. Growing up on the dub has not produced an ephemeral fan less serious or 'true'.

The 4Kids dub had wit, humour, deep emotion, suggestive comments and flights of fancy. The voices fitted the characters well.

Unlike the current one, where everyone sounds on the verge of vomiting, but then they're clearly working with substandard material on a miserly budget. You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear after all.

Dubs can be bad, but the very state of being a dub doesn't confer worthlessness automatically. Considering the work gone into them, attempting to gain your favour, it seems rude not to appreciate the time and energy spent in production.

Knowing a little about history, sub-only fanatics remind me of the kind of folk who opposed an English Bible, because it was too good for the oiks to read the word of God.

Of course it was alright for them, rich enough to be taught Latin, but not so much the ordinary man.

It amuses me how dozens dismiss the dub, but see no hypocrisy in using its evidence to further their ship or anti-ship arguments, so it can't be that revolting.

It's also bizarre that so many hold sacred the sub of a series currently in a frenzy to shed every aspect of its anime and Japanese origins, leaving a vague, rootless ghost, supposedly making it easier to slip down the gullet of the masses.

Pokémon I've seen referred to as a 'gateway drug', as in the anime that introduced a generation to the entire concept. This means the dub. You would not have got enough kids in the late Nineties to read a screen rather than watch it, and even today most would lose interest rapidly.

Where would you be without that dub? Unless you're Japanese, your first experience of Pokémon will have been a dub, and if not the American, the one where you live, which was only made because there was the funds available.

You may have then progressed to watching the sub, but only because that dub stirred love in your soul.

Where would the franchise be without that dub? You think Pokémon would've grown to be a world-wide obsession raking in billions by itself? No, it'd still be a solely Japanese phenomena, and most likely never lasted this long.

Its decades of supremacy rests on the quality of that dub. It sold games and merchandise to kids by the ton, giving an incentive to keep the series going. If you're not a fan from the first wave, then your favourite era would have never existed had it not been financially attractive carrying on.

The team who wrote the first film actually preferred the dub, moved to tears by its emotive use of music, therefore they aren't so precious as the fans.

Where would anime be without that dub? Pokémon brought it to the West. A handful slipped through previously, but made minor impression.

To those who would dismiss Pokémon entirely in favour of more 'worthy' output such as Studio Ghibli, I would say that Pokémon, first the games, then the programme they inspired, must have an integral quality to have caught on in Japan, which isn't exactly short on similar concepts.

To have gained popularity in a crowded market, and so fervently a dub became an option, can only have come about because it held a certain magic.

It was the dub that smashed a hole in the cultural barrier, setting free the tidal wave to engulf the world. In Pokémon's trail followed Digimon, Cardcaptors, Monster Rancher, Yu-Gi-Oh! et cetera.

Without Pokémon, I doubt they'd have been translated, and definitely never broadcast on mainstream television. That came about as channels desperately hunted down anything Japanese to serve as the next craze.

I really appreciated the effort made by 4Kids in converting every aspect of the series to suit American tastes, including changing text on signs, letters and books into English. I assumed this was standard practice until I watched others.

I could never be as involved in them as I was Pokémon because of that block. It was like being denied access to the deeper waters, fenced into the shallows, and implied a rushed dub, with little care shown but to chase the same crowd and money.

If personified, the dub 'n' sub wouldn't be one human being, but rather identical twins: the same to a casual observer, but easy to tell apart by the more attentive.

It's like the games: Red and Blue are versions of a single adventure, but not totally one. Take the dub and the sub the same way. They are parallel dimensions running on separate rails, and beyond reconciliation, and that's before we consider that, sub and dub alike, each generation has only a faint relation to its predecessor, working on its own whims.

Everyone has a favourite, or can like both, and there's nothing wrong in that, but so many are proud of the fact they hate the dub, as if it conveys a revered status of supremacy.

When Disney films are shown abroad, they too are translated, and I'm sure references and jokes are redesigned to make sense to the locals. It's no use selling yourself as a comedy then being surprised when the audience refuses to laugh, having no idea what you mean.

If people prefer that one, for being what introduced them to Disney as a whole, or as a fond memory of childhood, then so what?

I don't mind if their view of a character is minutely at odds with mine, having seen the original, because what they think is canon to their version, so can't be wrong.

I don't go round declaring every Disney dub to be pathetic by its nature, that viewers of them are of a lesser breed of fan for preferring their own tongue, even though more of the world's population understand English than they do Japanese.

If you enjoy one tailored to your country there's no crime in it, just as I like one at least comprehensible to mine. It's not even my culture, but I pick it up mostly.

The choice must be made on which to follow, and this blog runs on dub canon, as that has a claim on my heart. Just because I don't acknowledge what takes place in the sub doesn't mean I'm unaware of it, but it has no bearing on what I write.

The idea that the dub alters things willy-nilly without rhyme nor reason is also mistaken. Often it does it because the original does not make sense.

In the sub, I know Nanny and Pop-Pop are just a couple of old duffers taken at random and dropped in to a castle, supposedly as James's far away nannies.

Oh yeah, that's a cushy position. You doing a lot of child care from miles off?

Mind you, it used to describe 'em as 'caretakers' on Bulbapædia, as if Nan serves as housekeeper whilst Pop tends to the garden.

That's right. Ma and Pa finally got some work out of this pair of freeloaders.

They're not related, remember? No, no, absolutely not, no way. Of course their style reflects that. They just gave Pop a 'tache, thick eyebrows and a bigger nose, and Nan got a bun and lines in her hair, but there's certainly no connection. Oh no. Such a thing is ridiculous.

They're NOT family. No. Yet Hoenn James still panics they might learn he's joined Team Rocket, spending the whole episode trying to hide the truth.

Why? Who are servants to criticise the son of their employers? Why should their opinion be of any consequence to Hoenn James, especially when his parents, fiancée and butler are cognizant of reality?

Children of aristocrats are usually brought up by governesses, thus develop a stronger attachment to these figures rather than their parents, but that isn't the case here.

James lived with Ma and Pa, not the codgers minding the castle. He would have very little contact with distant employees compared to those who waited on him daily, so why seek out their approval?

Hoenn James apparently was permitted visits to Nan 'n' Pop, which is strange considering they're not relatives. Why them and not any other house-stters?

That's right, Ma and Pa sent their son to one of their properties without them, entrusting him to the care of two shrivelled pensioners of his size that he barely knew, and who could keel over at any minute. There are no other servants present. Apparently Nan and Pop clean an entire castle by themselves.

Oh, and they run a makeshift Pokémon sanctuary, but since it's not their home it has to be done with Ma and Pa's blessing, who also have to pay for it, but they're eevul aren't they?

The idea that somehow Nanny and Pop-Pop have not cottoned on to James's occupation by now is risible.

Servants gossip about their masters. I bet the entire household of his home know, and so in turn does the county. That Nan and Pop remain oblivious proves how isolated they are, for no one's thought to inform them.

When it came to dubbing it, they were made his grandparents, removing all the above nonsense. Of course he visits his nan and granddad, it's their gaff and their money funding the place, and it is likely his mother or father would keep James's job a secret, for fear the shock would finish 'em off.

It should do really. If they're not bothered by it that's a sign of where his rapscallion ways were inherited.

They aren't facially akin to Ma and Pa, but display the same additions, so if staff it's bloody lazy, as if nannies have to resemble your parents, but inventing a blood link excuses the slothful characterisation.

Every reference I've seen on Tumblr relating to the coffin-dodgers calls them Nanny and Pop-Pop. Apparently the dub decision is met with universal approval. It does have redeeming aspects then.

Now the sub writers, rather than ignore this development, took to it too. They aren't exactly bursting with ideas these days and are probably grateful for the lifelines offered.

Remembering James had parents, they forced a likeness between them and Nanny and Pop-Pop. How else do you explain the inexplicable ageing, even when Sinnoh Ma and Sinnoh Pa are younger than Ma and Pa?

I've also known for years that the sub has this woman as Jessie's foster mother, not Ma Jess, but that's stupid.

I can grasp the idea that Jessie and Ma might have endured extreme deprivation, considering that's what Team Rocket has brought to Jessie anyway, and that they may have lived at the bottom of Mew's mountain prior to Ma's death.

What I find difficult to take in is that social services (or as they're known where I live, the S.S.), however notoriously awful they are, would give a child to a mad bitch in a shack with no running water.

Come on, they have to at least pretend to be concerned for Jessie's welfare.

As Jessie is very young, bereavement can't have befallen her in the distant past, so how can she be happy this soon after becoming an orphan? How could the grieving period be a cherished memory?

If that woman's creaming off the money, why hasn't she fixed the place up by now? Where do the payments go, sniffing glue?

Then there's the depiction. If this is just some daft bint never to be mentioned again, why do they conceal her face? Who cares what she looks like when she's unimportant?

Here's another figure from Jessie's past. She isn't disguised, and why not when she too briefly appears and is then forgotten?

Who was she?

The only sort of characters they tended to hide were other members of Team Rocket:

During the early scenes featuring Giovanni, he was enveloped in shadow, adding both intrigue and a sense of menace.

Madame Boss also got this treatment, even though there was probably no intention to ever feature her in the anime. What's the use in keeping an appearance a mystery if it'll remain masked?

With that pattern, it implies this woman is in the same category, like Ma Jess.

When it came to animation, it definitely was intended to be a foster mother. Not her real one. No.

What did they do?

They gave her Jessie's skin tone and purple hair hanging down her back!

You know, like Ma Jess?

Any colour would've done. Any at all, and being anime I do mean any colour, but no. The choice was made to give her the looks of the exact person she's not meant to be!

Is it that surprising the dub simplified things?

I don't mind if you like the dub, sub, both, or any from around the world, but I'm tired of the smug condescension, as if we all agree the sub is the only one that counts, and that dub fans are grunting troglodytes, or not 'proper' aficionados.

None of us would be here were it not for the dub. Pokémon would not be here. I think it deserves some respect for how much of a difference it made, to my life and to yours.