#but i need to make and foster friendships with people first
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Fun fact about me: it is nearly impossible to get into a romantic relationship with me. I am the ultimate prize because:
I am asexual and sex repulsed, which means you can't come on to me by being horny
I'm also demiromantic, which means I won't feel romantic feelings until I've gotten to know you, which apparently can take anywhere from 3 months to 2 years depending on severity. And I lose interest in people fast, so the foundation has to be strong from the start.
BUT, when I do fall in love with you, you can rest assured that it is real, because it will always be fostered on a strong friendship.
Basically, all of these factors combined means that the correct approach is:
1. Go into it expecting nothing more than an acquaintance.
2. It's out of your hands from there on, buddy. What happens happens. I may fall in love, you may not, you may be in love from the start, I may never fall in love.
We have to be an incredibly good match for romance to be possible. I don't blame the guys who have tried in the past, I didn't even know enough about myself to really be able to warn them 🤷
#why am i posting this?#because I've recently learned a lot of stuff about myself#including the fact that i want romance in my life eventually#but i need to make and foster friendships with people first#so. now you all know that
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˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
adjustments (paige x reader)
summary: you and paige just started dating but you’re not used to signs of affection
content warnings: none
You grew up in less than ideal circumstances. Moving from foster family to foster family, constantly changing schools, having to pack up and start life all over again in different states and cities. You lacked everything that your peers had. No best friends, no family, no stability. Nothing in your life was consistent, you used to try and fight it but as you got older you started to think maybe that’s how you would be forever, alone in this big world with no one to lean on when you needed them.
Going to college changed that though, you knew you’d be in one place for years, seeing the same people everyday, building routines and friendships and relationships. It scared you. It scared because it was new. It felt like you were learning to live again, learning to trust. You were experiencing things at eighteen for the first time that most people experienced when they were eight.
When you met Paige, you dreamed of her being your best friend. She showed you love and compassion and care. She asked you questions you’d never been asked before. She made time in her busy schedule to see you. She introduced you to her friends and they quickly became yours too. She was your best friend and then she wasn’t. She was confessing her feelings for you and you were confused. You didn’t understand. Paige was acting like what you imagined a best friend would but saying she wanted more.
You were forced to be honest with Paige because you liked her and didn’t want to lose her. She was understanding and said she was happy to take things slow, at a pace that was comfortable for you. But it didn’t take you long to realise you shared the same feelings for her and you’ll never forget the smile on her face when she asked you to be her girlfriend and you said yes.
You’ll also never forget the way she frowned and chewed on her bottom lip when she pulled you into a hug, pressing her lips to your forehead and you jumped away.
“I’m sorry. No one- no ones ever done that to me before.” You had admitted.
Paige being Paige understood and reassured you that it didn’t make her feel any differently towards you. You guys could take things as slow as you wanted.
You had been dating for almost a month now and your heart still raced at the slightest of touches, your skin tingled every time she was close to you and you’d pulled away from every kiss after just a few seconds, the feeling being too much, too quickly.
Never in your life have you craved a hug, never have you wanted someone so close you almost mesh into one but you’d had a bad day and all you could think about was being in Paiges arms.
“Oh hi baby.” Paige smiles as she opens her apartment door to you.
You had come round unannounced, straight from your last class of the day.
“Hi.” You whisper, voice almost breaking as you do.
“What’s up?” Paige asks, brows furrowed as you walk inside.
“Bad day. Could I- could I have a hug?” You ask and your hands shake as you do, this was a foreign feeling for you but it would be for Paige too. She wasn’t used to you asking for hugs or even wanting to be touched.
“Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. C’mere.” She coos, arms opening immediately for you to walk into.
Paige encapsulates you in a tight hug, her arms firm and strong around your body, her chin rested on your head. It takes you a moment to hug her back but eventually your arms snake around her waist and you squeeze her, never wanting to let go.
“Is this OK?” Paige checks in.
“More than.” You reply, voice muffled from the way your face is buried in her chest.
“Let’s go to my room.” Paige says letting you go and you already want to feel her again so you slip your hand into hers as she leads you through her apartment.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but cuddles always help me after a bad day.” She says sitting on the edge of her bed, hand still linked in yours.
“I’ve never cuddled with anyone before.”
“Will you let me show you what it’s like?” She asks tenderly.
You nod and Paige shuffles back on her bed so she’s laying down, propped up slightly by a few pillows. She taps the space next to her and you slip your shoes off before climbing onto the bed.
“Here, shuffle down. Put your head on my chest.”
You do as she says and it takes you a second to find a comfortable position, nestled into Paige but once you do it feels like you’re two pieces of a puzzle fitting together perfectly. One of her hands is running through your hair and the other trails up and down your arm and you feel as though you’re floating, the events of the day washing away with each stroke.
“That feels nice.” You murmur as you move your arm to rest over Paiges stomach.
“It does, doesn’t it?” She agrees.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me baby. You don’t need to earn my affection. Not now, not ever.” Your heart pangs at her words and suddenly you want to touch her. Every part of her. You want her skin under your fingertips, her lips on yours and you want it now.
You look up at Paige who’s already looking down at you and you bring your hand up to her face, gently stroking her jaw and her eyes flutter shut. Your finger traces up and over her brow bone, down her nose and across her lips, “You’re so beautiful.” You breathe out, heart racing.
Paige is quick to prop herself up and her hand finds your hip and positions you so you’re fully laying down. You gasp at the sudden movement, “Is this O-” Paige begins.
“How about I let you know when it’s not OK? Just keep going.”
Paige is straddling you now, knees at either side of your waist. Her hands start on your face, pushing your hair back, they trail down your neck and your breathing increases as they palm over your chest and down your stomach, “I’ve dreamed of this.” She rasps, her tongue running along her bottom lip as she looks down at you, eyes hooded and needy.
“Kiss me…please.” You practically beg, your hands now planted on Paiges thighs.
She leans down and kisses the tip of your nose and your eyes close as her lips find yours in a gentle, passionate kiss. Her lips are soft and plump against yours and you can’t hold back the throaty moan as her tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste her and it’s euphoric. She detaches her mouth from yours only to press kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Fuck…her lips on your neck feel so good. You hold her head in place as she sucks and nips at the sensitive skin before poking out her tongue to soothe the spot.
She moves down to kiss your collarbone, her hands are under your shirt and yours are in her hair, “You’re so perfect.” She groans, eyes flicking up to look at you and you let her head go, hands frantically pulling your shirt up and over your head tossing it onto the floor.
“Shit.” Paige hisses as her eyes trail down your exposed torso. She leans down, peppering kiss up your stomach and your head flies back at the feeling. “Don’t stop.” You plead and she doesn’t until you feel as though every inch of your skin has been touched by her lips.
Your hands are having a field day exploring your girlfriends body, you squeeze her flexed biceps as she hovers over you and you tug at the neckline of her shirt wanting it off. She removes it in one swift movement so you’re both left if your bras. Your fingers trace over her toned abs and she flops down next to you, taking your hand and guiding it over her stomach, “I love feeling your hands on me baby.” She tells you softly.
“I love having my hands on you. I can’t believe it took me this long.” You say pressing a kiss to Paiges shoulder.
“I would’ve waited longer. As long as you needed.”
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
a/n: bro 😔 starting to feel touch starved like reader. ive been single so long
#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#wcbb#wlw#lgbtq#fanfic#lovegalor333#paige x reader#oneshot#paige bueckers imagine#sophs works 🪽
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Yandere! Kiyoomi Sakusa General Profile
Yandere! Kiyoomi Sakusa x fem!reader
TW: kidnapping, stalking, drugging, controlling behavior, Kiyoomi is secretly a wee bit of a misogynist, he makes a few comments about Reader's weight but there's no explicit descriptors, allusions to reader purposefully hurting themself, reader suffers a minor concussion but it was an accident, implied noncon, mentions of physical abuse, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 10K
DARLING PROFILE:
Considerate
Kiyoomi is not an especially generous person. He’s civil, sure, and adheres to social customs enough to not be considered too rude, but he’s never really understood the need to stick out one’s neck at the expense of others.
And so Kiyoomi is equal parts intrigued and frustrated by a darling who’s empathetic and cognizant of others’ desires and wants. He thinks it’s admirable, if not a bit naïve, but it’s not until they stick their neck out for him that he really begins noticing them.
It’s small things – offering him the package of communal sweets first so that he can have the first bite, their smile seeming too big when they tell him that they know he hates when other people touch his food first. It’s the way they always ask about his day, asking about specific details when his blanket statement of fine doesn’t seem to be enough.
(And specifically, it’s the way they ask about how he felt, rather than simply what he did. It makes him pause and think, glancing at them like they’re crazy, but finding himself slightly intrigued because he can’t remember the last time someone had asked about his feelings.)
It irritates him, more than anything, but as his friendship with them grows, Kiyoomi finds himself almost growing protective over how invested his darling is in others. It’s dangerous to be so selfless, don’t they know?
They’re practically asking to be taken advantage of, and while Kiyoomi tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care in the beginning, it becomes harder and harder to maintain that air as his feelings slowly begin festering.
It’s just a sign of stupid kindness, he thinks, but it nonetheless draws him in, desperation to be seen by his darling insatiable.
Smart
Unfortunately, Kiyoomi is a bit of a snob. And although his profession isn’t exactly academic, he still likes to think of himself as a man with decent taste, or at least someone with a good head on his shoulders. And so, having a darling who is equally as intelligent is something that Kiyoomi absolutely must have.
He can’t tolerate a ditzy partner, finding himself growing too irritated to stand being around them. Instead, he needs a darling that’s quick-witted, perhaps even snarky like him to match his wit and challenge him intellectually.
Despite what proves to be a distinctly possessive and controlling edge in his relationship with his darling, he does truly find their intellect and ability to think for themselves wildly attractive.
(He limits this, of course, feeling that his thoughts and feelings are ever so slightly better for his darling’s wellbeing, but it’s still a significant source of where his attraction is stemming from.)
And because Kiyoomi needs to have been friends with his darling for a significant period of time before his infatuation fully settles in, his darling needs to be smart enough for him to feel like they’re an equal in a platonic, friendship-based setting.
They don’t need to be a genius, but Kiyoomi respects those who are inquisitive and able to foster a healthy curiosity about the world around them. It’s sweet, and while he’s never given much thought to having kids (because while he feels he’d be a decent father, he’s not sure if he could handle having such disgusting things latching onto his leg or drooling over his shoulder), the mother of his children absolutely must have a good sense of judgement and wits about her.
It’s just so appealing to him, and even as his obsession festers and grows, eventually trapping his darling away, he still expects to see that fire in their eyes, loving the way they seem to understand what he’s thinking without him even needing to say it.
Flexible
Because Kiyoomi is so particular, in order to develop a friendship with him, his darling needs to be flexible. They need to be able to understand his preferences, and understand that he’s moody.
A stubborn darling that butts heads with him will only lead to Kiyoomi growing frustrated, and instead he’d prefer someone who’s more complacent with his own desires. It’s a trait that Kiyoomi is a bit embarrassed to say he finds attractive, if only because it’s an admission of knowing that he can be difficult to be around, but the comfort that his darling provides for him in this aspect is one that makes his feelings grow exponentially.
He wants to feel comfortable and cared for in their presence, and a darling that’s willing to do whatever he would prefer not only soothes his anxieties, but it spoils him in a way that makes his heart flutter, his cheeks blooming ever so slightly pink and his palms clamming up a bit.
It’s just so very sweet, and it leaves him feeling only more eager to be in their presence, desperate to spend every waking moment he can with them.
And as his infatuation continues, this is a key trait that allows his feelings to fester and grow to the degree of feeling constantly on edge without his darling in his sight.
He’s able to insert himself into their life more easily this way, able to control every aspect of their life, keep them away from potential suitors, keep them looking at him and him only.
Clean
This one isn’t as imperative, but similarly to matching his intellect, Kiyoomi appreciates a partner who’s naturally cleaner. He’s comforted by the knowledge that his darling isn’t dirty, that when he gets brave enough to reach out and oh so carefully, hesitantly run his fingertips over the soft skin of their palm, that they’ve washed their hands recently.
He likes knowing that the wonderful, lovely scent of their hair is a mixture of their natural scent and shampoo, making his eyes roll to the back of his head because he just wants to keep inhaling and inhaling, breathing in as deeply as humanly possible to consume as much of them as he can.
There’s this subtle sense of pride that settles into his chest when he enter their apartment for the first time, pleased to see the way their living-space reflects his own – perhaps with elements of their personality, maybe more colors or patterns or photographs of friends and family, but it’s almost too easy to see himself pulling his darling into his side on the spotless sofa sitting in their living room.
It’s disturbingly easy to fantasize about pulling the covers of their well-made bed over his head, black curls brushing against his darling’s navel as he travels lower and lower, listening to their gasps and moans as he greedily laps at the spot between their freshly washed legs.
It’s just reassuring, and it only pushes his obsession deeper because he takes it as yet another sign that he and his darling are entirely compatible, a perfect match that he’d be a fool to let go.
GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:
Gradual
Despite his status as an internationally known professional athlete, Kiyoomi’s habits haven’t changed much since his youth. He’s still not especially interested in any sort of romantic relationship – he’s picky, incredibly so, and it takes him an extremely long time to feel comfortable enough with someone to actually be willing to be open and vulnerable with them.
(Particularly in the context of anything intimate – he needs to be very, very comfortable with them to reach the point where he’d willingly kiss them, touch them, or, god forbid, be inside of them.)
He’s not fully against the idea, but he’s realistic enough to know that he’d be a hard partner to please, and he just isn’t all that interested in finding someone. He’s got his career to worry about, and with all the traveling he does and his own personal idiosyncrasies, it would just be easier to not have a significant other.
And frankly, this mentality sticks with him – you have to have known Kiyoomi for quite some time before he develops feelings for you. At the absolute minimum, he must’ve been truly friendly with you for three years; that way, he can solidly say he finds you tolerable, that you’re acceptably clean, not too annoying, someone he doesn’t hate being around.
And even once his feelings begin forming, it’s a slow process – he doesn’t just suddenly wake up and decide that he’s in love with you. No, it’s much more gradual, much more subtle – he doesn’t even know it’s happening until it’s too late, after all.
It starts off as little things that he notices; a new haircut of yours (it was just a trim, something small and something even you had difficulty noticing) that he comments on absentmindedly, telling you it looks nice, this hairstylist is much better than the last one.
He’ll notice that you’ve changed your style a bit; maybe you bought a new pair of pants and you’re a little nervous about wearing them because they’re cute, but it’s a new color or a new cut or just a little bit outside your comfort zone. (He’ll blink and stare when you settle into the other chair at the café, your nerves getting the better of you as you ask what he’s staring at, only to get the rather flat response are your pants new? I like them.)
He's always been observant, noticing little things about you, but normally they’re things about your personality, or things about your likes or dislikes. He knows your favorite ice cream flavor, and which brands to avoid when he’s buying you some for your biweekly movie night (something you had to beg him to start, but now he finds himself looking forward to – enough that he’s counting down the minutes in practice that day, dark eyes glancing at the clock every few minutes and sighing lightly at how slowly time is moving).
He’s always known you were a bit of a klutz, and that your spatial awareness leaves a lot to be desired, just because he knows you. You’re tight friends, after all. But lately the things he’s been noticing are less platonic and less general, and more relating to your looks.
He’s never noticed that you have a fleck of another color in your eyes – it’s pretty, and when you turn your head just right in the sunlight, it makes your eyes glow.
He’s never noticed that you fill out your clothing very well; he’s gotten teased for spending so much time with you, sure, Hinata or Atsumu’s dramatic assertions about how the two of you must be more than friends always making him scoff and roll his eyes, disgusted by the implications. But now he finds himself wondering, late at night, with guilt gnawing at him, what it would be like to actually undergo those implications – being physical with you, that is.
His gaze is lingering on your pants a little more than usual, dark eyes staring just a hair too long at your ass, the jeans tight and accentuating every curve you have.
He’ll force himself to stop thinking about it, wondering where the hell that thought had sprung up from, rolling over in bed and shutting his eyes tightly, praying for sleep to come and for the images of the few, accidental times he’d seen you in your bra to stop flashing through his mind.
He notices that his thoughts towards you are changing a bit, but he tries not to think about it. You’re friends – aside from Komori and his teammates, you’re his closest companion, and developing feelings for you would ruin the fragile thing you have. Except his denial of his feelings doesn’t magically make them go away – he’s noticing how often he touches you, without even consciously realizing it. When you hand him some cash to repay him for some snacks he bought you, your fingers brush against his, and he actually freezes when he feels it.
(Your hands are so fucking soft – not hard and calloused like his, not rough and scratchy from years of smacking rock hard volleyballs.)
He never realized that he unconsciously let his hand rest on the small of your back when you guided him through crowds, trying to find the shortest route to minimize his discomfort. (He’d always liked that about you – your acceptance of his dislike of large crowds and germs, never making him feel weird or like a freak for it. You’d even shared an irrational fear or disgust of your own, just to make him feel better – it didn’t, but he appreciated the sentiment.)
Small things begin compiling up for Kiyoomi – things he’d never really noticed or thought about before, but now seem to be at the forefront of his mind. And yet, he still represses his feelings – no, he doesn’t want a girlfriend, and if he acknowledges his feelings for you, he'll want to push your relationship in that direction, to not suffer in silence because he wants more more more.
And yet, as time passes, Kiyoomi finds that he simply can’t not acknowledge what he’s feeling – it’s too much, too strong for him to ignore. His heart physically aches when he’s not around you, his mind racing and whirring with thoughts of what you’re doing, how you’re feeling, who you’re with, if you’re thinking of him.
It’s overwhelming, and it gets to the point where Kiyoomi literally cannot function without recognizing just how far gone his feelings for you are – it's effecting his playing, his relationships with his teammate, his eating habits, even his sleeping. You’re just too all-encompassing, his feelings to fucking intense – intense enough to leave him staring at his ceiling night after night, the bright screen of his phone illuminating his bedroom as he scrolls through photo after photo after photo of you.
Always you.
Possessive
Kiyoomi’s feelings, while strong and nauseating and so, so very good, really end up intensifying to an unbearable level from a single, main cause – he absolutely cannot stand watching you interact with other men.
He can’t repress the way jealousy claws at his throat, making his mouth taste sour and his gut twist because who the fuck is that man you’re talking to?
All it takes is one instance of a man flirting with you while Kiyoomi is present for these feelings to spark up – frankly, he's shocked that the man had the gall to approach you when you’re with someone as famous and handsome as Kiyoomi Sakusa, but perhaps he’d only felt confident enough because you were smiling at this stranger, standing close to him, laughing at a joke.
His fists clench up, dark brows drawing tight as he watches, the bustling café too loud for him to pick out exactly what’s being said. Seeing the way another man looks at you makes his gut sink, and even once you return back to him (with the food you’d ordered for both of you, since you know how much he hates talking to strangers), he can’t shake off his sour mood. From that moment forward, Kiyoomi is forced to confront his feelings – specifically, the ugly, twisting mess of emotions he feels whenever you’re around another man.
He grows possessive of you remarkably fast, hating when your attention strays from him, particularly if the new target is another person. Another man, really. It makes all these insecurities begin sprouting up in his chest – things he thought he’d long moved past, doubts and self-criticisms that make him feel weak, helpless, pathetic.
When he sees you catch eye contact with the man passing you on the sidewalk, your smile and small good morning makes him think about whether this stranger can stand being in a crowd for longer than three minutes. (He probably can, something Kiyoomi can’t – this man could take you to all those concerts you talk about, and he could take you to fun amusement parks and be in the crowd at sporting events and museums and all sorts of things that Kiyoomi can’t.)
When he sees you laugh and apologize to the man you nearly ran over with your shopping cart in the grocery store, Kiyoomi can’t help but notice how easily the man’s smile comes, his entire aura radiating positivity and happiness, the little tease and joke he makes in response to your apology making Kiyoomi’s hair bristle, unease sitting in his chest because no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t be so carefree and socially comfortable.
(Would you prefer someone more confident and natural in social settings, someone who can make you laugh so easily and introduce himself to strangers, shaking their hand and telling them with any sort of honesty that it’s nice to meet them? Kiyoomi hopes not, please be no.)
He grows pessimistic at the prospect of you interacting with others, because Kiyoomi recognizes that he probably isn’t your type. It makes him feel insecure, worthless, ugly, but more than anything it makes him panic, his fingers shaking and his knee bouncing because he absolutely cannot allow another man to come along and sweep you off your feet.
He needs to do something – and do it quickly, because you’re beautiful and gorgeous and funny and sweet and smart and so fucking perfect, and surely another man will realize that soon and you’ll be gone forever, all while he’s left to watch and stand by, forever regretting that he let this happen. And so, Kiyoomi decides that his only option is to try and limit your time with other men – meaning, he needs to monopolize more of your time, keep you with him, your company limited to only your family, coworkers, and him.
It’s the only way – and while he’s never been particularly subtle about anything, even you will be shocked at how blatantly he acts on this desire.
He's calling you up more, sending texts with flying fingers asking if you’re busy tonight, if you’d like to move your movie night up a few days, if you’d like to go get lunch at the ramen shop Bokuto won’t shut up about, if you’d like to stay the weekend with him at the VRBO he’d already rented on a beautiful little lake.
(He won’t tell you he’d chosen that one specifically because there was both a lake and a hot tub present, meaning he’d get to see you in your swimsuit hopefully more than once, but still.)
He becomes desperate to get your attention solely on him, and while you’ll be surprised, you won’t give it too much thought. Kiyoomi’s always been a little strange, and if he wants to further your friendship, you wouldn’t put up a fight.
But then he’s also scowling when you bring up the name of any other man, even when you’re alone – talking about any of your friends or any of his teammates gets him clenching his fist so hard his perfectly manicured nails dig into his palms, sometimes even pressing hard enough to draw blood.
You’ll notice his discomfort, the way he tenses up, how his voice gets terse and he talks less than normal, and when you ask him about it, he’ll only bite out an I don’t want to talk about another man with you. It’s cryptic, kind of, and it’ll take you aback, but you’ll respect his wishes, mentally noting how odd his behavior is.
And really, that’s how it’ll all progress – you’ll write off Kiyoomi’s strange, possessive behavior, which only makes him further push the envelope, not allowing you to talk about another man in his presence, or even look at them or stand close to one. It’s too much, and it’ll make you uncomfortable, but Kiyoomi’s too far gone.
And frankly, before you pluck up the courage to actually seriously confront him about it, it’s too late – your mouth is already being covered with the chloroform rag, your body going limp and landing in his arms, the sound of him deeply inhaling next to your hair and the low whimper he lets out making you dread when you’ll awaken even more.
He just wants your attention on him, and even more than that, he can’t accept the idea of you leaving him – you’re close, you’re friends, even though the word makes him spit, and he won’t let you leave him. You aren’t allowed to, he won’t let you. So don’t even bother trying.
Controlling
Tying into his more possessive traits, Kiyoomi slowly begins morphing into someone you hardly know.
He becomes blinded by his obsession with you, allowing himself to become more and more omnipresent in your life, worming his way into every little aspect of the way you live, from who you spend your time with to the clothing you wear. Though he’s not particularly subtle, the beginnings of his more controlling behavior will actually spark up long before he realizes how he feels for you.
Much before he’s come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t mind waking up with you wrapped in his arms every morning, he’s telling you that you really should consider waking up at a more reasonable time. It doesn’t matter if you’re a chronic oversleeper, or if you rise with the sun every morning – you’re always doing something wrong, really, and Kiyoomi will point it out to you.
(This is done in a genuine effort to get you to healthier, though. It doesn’t really feel like it when he’s criticizing you for your lack or overindulgence in sleep, his words snarky and cutting, but the motivation behind his prodding into your sleep schedule is to make sure that your body is getting the appropriate amount of rest. To make sure that you’re taking care of yourself, really – because Kiyoomi simply doesn’t trust that you know how.)
Long before he realizes that he wants to press kisses against the column of your throat and feel your soft, warm pulse underneath his lips, Kiyoomi recognizes that you don’t take perfect care of your skin. You could always use a better moisturizer, a better toner, take more time in the mornings and evening to make sure your skin is glassy and smooth and soft.
(He won’t insinuate that you’re ugly, of course, because Kiyoomi is many things but not a liar. But that doesn’t mean he won’t make comments about how he thinks you’ve gotten more pimples recently because your creams are expired, dropping skincare recommendations on you unsolicited and without batting an eye. And when they arrive on your doorstep the next day, shipped with the fastest service possible that you know costs nearly double the regular speed, you can’t even truly get mad at Kiyoomi – after all, his skin is perfect, and maybe he does know more about skin care than you do. The least you could do is try the new products, right? It would be rude not to.)
He’s always been a bit controlling about how he wants things done, but where you’re concerned this is only amplified – it’s a response to caring about you more than anything. He loves you, feels such deep, horrible yearning for you that he feels he must have a say in your life. He’s a successful man, with the last puzzle piece of his life missing being a sweet, loving wife who dotes on him and he on her in return.
And perhaps it’s a coping mechanism to make up for all the years of feeling ostracized, having minimal friends and even less romantic pursuits, finding himself suddenly feeling the pressure to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect because can’t fuck up what he has with you.
He’s become too dependent, too reliant on your presence in his life, and he becomes all-consumed and paranoid at the thought of accidentally doing something to dissuade you from wanting to spend time with him. He won’t change himself for you (or, at least, not too drastically – just enough to keep you interested in him, just enough to keep you in his life), but Kiyoomi is putting every possible effort into making sure that everything goes according to plan.
Expensive dinners are meticulously analyzed, dark brows furrowing at each potential obstacle as he mentally rehearses for the date.
(He’ll order to smoked fish fillet, and you’ll have either the pasta or maybe the salad. But wait. Is it rude to recommend the salad to you? Would you perceive it as a comment on your weight? He wants to see you eating more vegetables, but he doesn’t want you to think he finds your body displeasing – absolutely not, not when he spends most mornings with a hand pressed against the shower wall, water mixing with sweat and dribbling down the curves of his back, other hand feverishly pulling and tugging at his cock, your name slipping between his lips like some sort of prayer.)
He's planning out who will attend your wedding, the seating arrangements, the colors and flower choices, even what your dress will look like and how you’ll style your hair. (It sounds sweet, really – except that it isn’t, because if things don’t go exactly how he’s expecting them to, Kiyoomi will panic, worry eating away at him because no no no! Everything needs to go according to plan, otherwise things will fall apart and you’ll look at him with disappointment and just the thought is making it hard to breath and he needs to see you right now and reach out and touch you and hear you say his name fuck fuck fuck -)
He becomes overly concerned with every little behavior that you exhibit, always making a comment on this or that, his eagerness for your approval (and your obedience) making it difficult for him to notice the way you roll your eyes or how you hesitate, slightly offended at the way he tells you to stop eating like you’re poor, chew slower.
Everything is done with the intent of trying to better your relationship, to make sure the two of you are as compatible as possible, but the execution will leave you often times feeling as if he’s purposefully belittling you, your irritation and anger growing but then tapering out when he looks at you with those eyes.
It’s hard to stay mad when you’re nearly his only friend, the authenticity in his voice when he says that he loves you making it hard to stay mad at one of your closest friends. Just don’t say that – it’ll have his eye twitching, something ugly clawing at his chest because in what fucking world are you two just friends?
DEALING WITH RIVALS:
As a general rule, Kiyoomi does not handle jealousy well. He’s always been an envious person, but once his attachment to you forms and he becomes aware of just how badly he needs you – both emotionally and physically – his jealousy only increases, his intolerance of other people greedily sucking up your time lowering monumentally.
Because really, that’s what it is, isn’t it?
Other people – worthless, unknown, people who don’t even really know you like he does – wanting your time and attention all for their own selfish, gluttonous desires. It’s disgusting, frankly, how these people think they have any right to see your smile, to hear your voice, to feel your hand brushing against their own when you’re handing something to them.
(And oh, what an experience that is – Kiyoomi’s entire body stiffens up when he feels your skin against his, his mouth feeling dry and his pupils dilating because god, you’re so soft and warm and he’s never felt this urge before – the urge to reach out and take more, to keep touching you and feel his way up your arm, to press against the curving bones of your collarbone, to thumb over the plains of your ribcage, to take a handful and squeeze what he’s sure are two very, very soft and supple breasts… Just the thought has him breathing heavily, staring at you with this look that makes your skin crawl ever so slightly, the intensity and the concentration nearly scaring you.)
His possessive streak is bad enough that he finds himself actively seeking out men who may be interested in you when he’s in public with you – you’ll be happily chatting away, animatedly waving your arms as you tell him about the latest episode of your show you’ve been watching, and while he wants to be listening, to give you his full, undivided attention and watch the way your mouth moves when you speak, how your eyes light up, hear how you occasionally say his name, the lilting Ki-yoo-mi making his knees weak, he can’t focus.
Instead, he’s glancing around the cafe you’re sitting in, mentally noting every man and what they’re doing – there’s a brunette in the corner with his laptop open, what looks like email after email being fired off with rapt, quick fingers flying over his keyboard.
An irrational pang of fear shoots through Kiyoomi – do you ever receive emails at such a rapid pace? How often do men email you, and is truly as professional as you claim? How well do you know the mind of a man looking at you as nothing more than a walking pussy?
Another man is sitting near the fireplace, his phone in hand a scowl sitting across his features. He’s practically yelling into the receiver, telling off what Kiyoomi presumes to be his secretary because of some misplaced papers. Kiyoomi winces, grinding his teeth and clutching onto his coffee cup tighter because has any man ever yelled at you like that? Have you ever been screamed at, wrongfully blamed for something, or have you ever cried because of some horrible, lousy man?
(Kiyoomi isn’t a particularly violent person, but the mental imagery of leaving the man’s face purple and blue makes something warm and fuzzy and good settle in his chest, a sense of satisfaction and a rush of adrenaline nearly making him dizzy.)
Even the cashier has Kiyoomi on edge – he’s smiling like an idiot, greeting each customer with that infuriating, chipper tone of his, and it’s immediately making your coffee partner irritated, wondering with only the smallest big of insecurity whether you’d like that more – someone more outgoing, someone more friendly, someone less difficult than him.
Every time he's with you, the constant feeling of sizing up the other men in the vicinity is always weighing him down, the fear that you could potentially lose interest in him and instead develop an attraction to someone else leaving his paranoid and quite frankly scared – you wouldn’t leave him, would you? You wouldn’t abandon him, would you?
The thought is enough to make him guide you towards a less crowded area, back towards his apartment, back to where it’s just you and him – how it should be.
Kiyoomi knows he shouldn’t have let you talk him into coming to the supermarket. There’s a reason he pays for his groceries to be delivered to him – it’s too busy, too loud, too many unaware people walking around with no regard for personal space or respect. It’s irritating, really, but you’d been looking at him with those pearly eyes and fucking pouting, and how could he have possibly said no to that?
Not when you were saying his name with that low tone of yours, practically purring it, making it nearly impossible for him not to snap and tangle his fingers into your hair, to pull you as close as physically possible and suck hickey after hickey into the sensitive, delicate skin of your neck. He’d been a goner the moment you’d brought it up, and it’s only now, as he’s standing at your side in the bread aisle, that Kiyoomi feels the full regret of his decision.
After all, the rather attractive blond man at the end of the aisle certainly hasn’t slipped his notice – the man’s tall (though not as tall as Kiyoomi, of course), decently muscular (though Kiyoomi knows he has much more definition in his quads, the lines dancing along his thighs and calves drool-worthy compared to the stranger’s), and staring rather intently at the shelved loaves in front of him.
It makes Kiyoomi’s eye twitch; he’s purposefully placed himself between you and the stranger, hoping that this vantage point blocks as much of the man from your view as possible. You’re too engrossed in your selection process to really notice, Kiyoomi knows, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying, the nagging voice in the back of his head urging him to minimize your chances of even acknowledging this mildly attractive stranger.
He’s still got that familiar unimpressed look in those dark eyes (mixed with a touch of adoration as he watches you bite your lip and furrow your brows, the sight pulling at his heart and almost, almost making him forget all about his jealousy), and that look only darkens as he hears footsteps on the linoleum flooring behind him.
He moves closer to you, opening his mouth to tell you that you should just grab the nearest loaf and leave, but the man beats him to it. His voice is timid, scared, even, and for just a split second it leaves Kiyoomi feeling smug – for all this man’s physical attractiveness, surely you wouldn’t want such a meek, submissive man. Not when you could have someone like Kiyoomi – someone stronger, more masculine, more dominant, more of a man.
The man’s question is innocent, all things considered – he reaches towards the loaf of bread you’d already stashed away in your shopping cart, pointing a finger and asking where did you find that?
Immediately Kiyoomi’s stiff, every muscle in his body going taut because no matter how you react to the man’s question, he won’t like the result. Your mouth parts into an adorable little ‘o’ that gets Kiyoomi biting his lip, before you smile and point towards the opposite end of the aisle, answering with a chipper, oh-so-fucking-cute response of right down there!
Kiyoomi’s brows knit together as the man thanks you, moving forward to go in search of the loaf you’d guided him towards. As the man passes, those dark eyes settle on his figure, leaving him to pick up his pace, the heavy weight of Kiyoomi’s stare making him noticeably uncomfortable.
As soon as the man is out of earshot, Kiyoomi snatches your wrist, his grip tight and making you nearly wince, his other hand reaching out to grab the loaf you’d been eyeing. Come on, we’re leaving, is all he says, walking with purpose in the opposite direction of the man.
You’re out of the grocery store before you can blink, Kiyoomi slipping his credit card back into his wallet and guiding you towards his car. You’re confused, really, and as you blabber on about how he didn’t need to pay for your groceries and ask about what’s gotten into him, Kiyoomi can only usher you into the front seat, throwing the grocery bags into the trunk and taking a final glance around him. The man seems to still be in the store, and Kiyoomi clicks his tongue, a small pang of relief racing through him.
As he settles into the driver’s seat and puts the car into reverse, he glances over at you, soaking in the sight of you in his car with his old sweatshirt on. His lips quirk up at the edges, the smile small, before stepping onto the gas, driving away from the store and trying to forget the sight of your smile being aimed at someone else.
He grips the steering wheel hard, focusing on the sound of your voice to calm him – your voice saying thank you for the ride, Kiyoomi, you’re the best.
(A sound replaying over and over and over in his head later that night, with the too-bright screen illuminating your photographed face and casting shadows over his naked body covered in a light sheen of sweat. The best, huh?)
TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:
Really, as soon as Kiyoomi realized that his feelings for you were something so much deeper than he could ever imagine, he’d begun planning for your eventual relocation to his home. There’s a variety of reasons why he’s so eager, so insistent: it’s easier, and it makes more sense.
Because really, while Kiyoomi doesn’t want to steal you away, he doesn’t really have much of a choice, does he? You’re too independent for your own good – you’re always going out and doing things, seeing people, putting yourself in a position not only of meeting potential love interests, but also one of danger.
Kiyoomi rationally knows that you’re strong and can make informed decisions, but there’s a part of him that slowly grows to doubt your abilities. It’s not that you’re incapable, but more like you aren’t the most qualified to make choices about your own health and life.
And really, doesn’t it make more sense for him to guide you? Kiyoomi, who is successful, wealthy, the pinnacle of health and fitness, and much more calm and collected than you. Surely he knows better – and you’d agree, wouldn’t you?
You always seem to support his choices, laughing and telling him that he’s so predictable and logical whenever he rants about his teammates and general annoyances. You always sound so in awe of him, the praise and tone going directly to his head, making his palms feel a little clammy and his voice getting a little hoarse because oh, being seen and complimented by you feels very, very good.
And so really, it only makes sense that Kiyoomi steals you away – he’s already controlling, but he isn’t with you at all hours of the day, and can you really be trusted to be constantly making smart, responsible decisions every waking moment?
You don’t know what’s best for you, and in order to have you in peak health and keep you utterly, completely his, this is the only way. But to Kiyoomi’s credit, he gives you ample opportunity to willingly come to him. His attempts to ask you out are, objectively, not particularly romantic, but his requests for you to stay the night are met with little resistance from you.
It’s typical, after all, for you to stay over at his place in his spare bedroom after you’ve drunk just a bit too much, sleeping off the tipsiness because Kiyoomi will be damned before he lets you out on the road in the wrong state of mind.
(Not for the safety of others, of course – solely for you, because if you were to get injured or, god forbid, die, Kiyoomi genuinely thinks he may never recover, the pain and guilt of losing you driving his mad with grief. Besides, you look very, very enticing all tangled up in his spare sheets, your pretty body so scantily clad in the t-shirt he’d loaned you and a pair of workout shorts that ride very, very low on your hips. Enticing enough to have him standing in the doorframe of the room, entirely motionless as he watches you slumber, swallowing thickly and not letting his eyes drift from your form for sometimes hours on end, just watching and waiting.)
But then those requests to spend the night start happening more days out of the week than you’re comfortable with, happening multiple nights in a row, so much so that you’re starting to spend more time at Kiyoomi’s place than your own – and so when you start denying his requests, he resorts to one final tactic.
Of course, it doesn’t feel good to be unscrew a few things under your bathroom sink as he ‘uses the restroom’, but it’s necessary. When you call in a panic later that day about how your apartment is flooded and your landlord is furious over the water damage, Kiyoomi will try his best to be sympathetic, to not sound as flat and mildly pleased when he offers to let you crash at his place for a few days until it all gets sorted out. He’ll mess with your piping first, then your thermostat.
(He’ll tell you on the phone that losing your heating during the height of winter isn’t a joke, I don’t care how many blankets you have you’ll still freeze to death – and who’ll have to organize your funeral? Me, so don’t be selfish.)
Then he’ll go so far as to start stealing things out of your apartment – of course, he’s always been a bit heavyhanded in ‘borrowing’ your things (mostly inconsequential things that he knows you wouldn’t notice, like little knick-knacks or pairs of clean socks – things that make him feel more connected to you and are the perfect size to fit underneath his pillow at night, of course), but then he starts looting away more serious items. Your books go missing, your jewelry, cups from your cupboards, even going so far as to steal your laptop or your speakers or anything else he knows you’ll miss.
And when you’re running to him and telling him that someone’s targeting your apartment, that you’re feeling unsafe, that you think someone’s been repeatedly robbing you and breaking into your apartment, he'll only sigh and tell you that you’d be stupid to not live with him for a while, that you’re practically asking for death by staying in that tiny little thing you call an apartment for any longer.
And in the event that you’re still planning on living on your own after all these attempts to force your dependence on him, Kiyoomi will see no other option – having you live with him is like his own personal heaven, and he’ll be damned if he loses the feeling of falling asleep under the same roof as you, of hearing your pretty snores and seeing the peaceful expression on your face as you slumber.
You’re just too damn perfect, and so you really, really shouldn’t be too surprised when Kiyoomi’s got the rag held over your nose, his words cold in your ear as he tells you to stop struggling, you’re only making this harder. After all, he’s made himself perfectly clear – it’s not his fault you didn’t pick up on the signs.
As a captor, Kiyoomi retains a lot of his mannerisms from before stealing you away. He’s still a bit harsh with you, his tongue biting and cold, but the difference becomes that Kiyoomi doesn’t bother trying to hide the nature of his feelings anymore.
You’d been aware that his interest shifted from a more platonic to romantic nature sometime along the way, but now there’s absolutely no way to misinterpret his actions – not when he’s resorted to making you sit so close to him on the couch, those dark eyes expectant when you don’t immediately shuffle into his side. He’ll stare for a while, before sighing, like it’s all some big chore, then grabbing you and forcing you to practically sit in his lap, all the while grumbling about you being so damn difficult, aren’t women supposed to love cuddling?
He’s making you take all your meals with him, forcing you to sit at the modest wooden dining table, the rather bland meal of white rice, fish and a roasted, unseasoned vegetable looking less appetizing with every day.
(He won’t let you cook, however – his protective tendencies show most when it comes to you being in the kitchen, if only because he doesn’t trust you to not injure yourself. There’s just too many possibilities – you could cut yourself, burn yourself, use the cheese grater or the potato peeler to tear off a layer of skin, you could squeeze lemon juice into your eyes or get jalapeno residue at your waterline. There’s just too much that could happen, and while Kiyoomi would absolutely love to have you entirely dependent on him if you were to become injured, the idea of knowingly letting you hurt yourself makes something bitter tinge in his mouth, his legs getting restless and his fingers twitching because he needs to do something to prevent that from happening.)
He’s curating a wardrobe for you, making sure to dress you in his favorite colors, rich fabrics, comfortable designs, things that he thinks will make you happy but still fit his tastes. (And besides, you’ve always complimented him on his own fashion choices – surely you’d trust him on this too, right?) There’s lots of complimentary colors and designs to match his own clothing, enjoying the way you two look right when you’re together, a smile gracing his lips and prompting him to twirl a lock of your hair around his finger, bringing it up to his lips and letting his tongue dart out ever so quickly, just to catch a small taste of you.
He’s controlling, always dictating what you do, what your plan for the day is while he’s gone, but it’s always done with the intention of trying to keep you safe and what he hopes will make you happy.
He’s investing a large portion of his very generous salary to getting the best supplies of any hobbies you have (as long as they revolve around music, art, anything that couldn’t possibly hurt you), always demanding you show him the progress you’ve made that day. It’s a desire to get you to interact with him, but it also makes pride swim in his gut to know that you’re getting better using the things he bought for you.
(And perhaps, there’s even some small part of you that’s improving to impress him… Just the thought makes him gulp heavily, having to shift his pants ever so slightly because the idea of you wanting to impress him, to seek his approval, to make him happy gets him hot under the collar.)
Life will become very monotonous with him. It’s a routine, with any deviation planned out in advance, Kiyoomi finding comfort in the order and consistently. It helps quell the anxiety stirring in his gut when he’s away for tournaments or away-matches, his knee always anxiously bobbing as he imagines what you’re doing.
He’ll whip his phone out nearly ever five minutes, tapping into the multitude of cameras he has set up around the apartment just to keep an eye on you, visibly relaxing when he sees you tucked up into bed, stepping out of the shower, or even reading on the sofa.
(He’s harsher than normal when Hinata bounces up and asks what he’s looking at, his words dripping in an extra layer of venom as he tells his fellow spiker to get away from me, it’s a private matter. Because he’ll be damned if he lets anyone see you in any sort of intimate, raw way – you’re for his eyes only, and Kiyoomi would rather cut off his left hand than let the redhead get even a glimpse of you.)
Kiyoomi is omnipresent, a trace of him present in every aspect of your life, and while it’s exhausting, humiliating, enraging, you’ll eventually grow tired of trying to rebel. He’s a patient man, but you can only handle so many derogatory comments, so many failed escape attempts (he has the best, most up-to-date security measurements around the apartment, of course) before you decide it may be better to simply accept this as your new fate.
After all, Kiyoomi isn’t that bad, right? You’d been friends for years – you know he’s a good person, and perhaps this is just a lapse in his judgement. Maybe he’s not thinking clearly. Maybe he’ll lose interest in you, or decide that what he’s doing it wrong.
You’ll cling onto the hope, repeating the mantra over and over in your head, but by the fifth year of living under his lock and key with a baby nursing at your breast, it’ll be very, very difficult to pretend that this isn’t your reality.
So really, it’s in your best interest to just accept him, to accept this – you’ll be happier this way. He promises.
PUNISHMENTS:
In general, Kiyoomi is actually remarkably patient with you. Somewhere deep down, below all of the twisted, dark manifestations of his feelings, he does truly love you. And while his controlling behavior and the way he expects you to give him all of your time, attention, energy, and focus is exhausting and at times dehumanizing, Kiyoomi never truly wants to hurt you.
And as a result, it’s unlikely that he’ll ever lash out in a way more substantial than verbally. He’d never physically hurt you, as seeing you with even the slightest discoloration or bruise makes him near inconsolable, anger seeping into every part of his body because you absolutely cannot be hurt, not when he’s the one who’s supposed to be your perfect, caring, protective partner.
He won’t take away your basic rights, either – though, in all fairness, they’re effectively gone once he realizes the depth of his feelings for you. He forces you to spend all your time with him, share meals and wear the clothing that he picks out for you, and so aside from forcing himself to be present while you relieve yourself or perhaps feeding you with his own hands, there really aren’t too many personal rights that he could take away even if he wanted to.
Kiyoomi does have a tendency to be a bit mean when he gets frustrated or afraid, however. You’ve always known this about him – his snarky personality is what initially drew you to him as a friend, but there’s something more cutting and biting about the way it feels when he’s looking at you with a mix of such devotion and anger, the love pooling in those dark eyes scaring you even more than the way they crinkle at the edges, wrinkling dotting his forehead as he frowns and scoffs at you.
It’s hurtful, really, when he makes comments about things he knows you’re insecure about – perhaps your weight, your smile, your curves, your laugh, your intelligence, anything and everything because he needs to make you understand how you’re making him feel, how it hurts him just as much as it hurts you.
It’ll make your eyes sting, the venom in his voice enough to make you crumple in on yourself, and it’s only after Kiyoomi’s left and calmed down enough to breath normally again that he realizes just how truly devastated his comments make you. He’s softer, after that, approaching you with shaking hands and a tone that’s laced with something almost akin to fear, calling your name and pretending that it doesn’t slice through something soft and vulnerable and weak inside him when you flinch at his touch.
He’ll be kinder after that, spoiling you with your favorite foods (even the unhealthy ones, which would normally never be available to you, what with Kiyoomi’s obsession with keeping your diet squeaky clean), watching hours upon hours of your favorite movies and shows, even material purchases of new clothing and expensive jewelry.
It’s not enough to truly make you feel better, but as time passes and the realization that Kiyoomi is truly all you have in this lonely penthouse apartment of his, you’ll grow to appreciate it, even if his words still echo in your head.
But really, what primarily sets Kiyoomi off is your disobedience – his controlling tendencies are so ingrained into him by the time that he’s stolen you away permanently into his home that he simply cannot handle when you aren’t utterly compliant with his every whim and wish.
In his fantasies of you living with him and staying by his side, fueled by possessive need, you’re always so eager to please, doing anything and everything you can to make Kiyoomi happy. And when you contrast this idealized version of your behavior, it’s a rude awakening for him that you aren’t truly happy with him yet, that things aren’t as perfect as he wants them to be. And so, as a defense mechanism he lashes out, spitting out words and lies that make both of your hearts hurt.
But truly, what really warrants the term ‘punishment’ is what happens when something even bigger happens – when you hurt yourself. It doesn’t even have to be purposeful; it still results in utter, blind panic consuming him, his heart racing in his chest and a cold sweat dripping at his brow because you’ve somehow managed to cut your thumb while he was at practice.
It makes him see red, desperation tinging his movements, making his hands tremble and his feet practically flying as he rushes you into the bathroom, applying too many anti-bacterials and wrapping your thumb tightly enough to nearly cut off the circulation. It’s pure, unadulterated dread that seeps into his bones, a panic like he’s never felt before, and this leads to the most extreme reaction Kiyoomi will have to your behavior – that is, he doesn’t like slipping the pill into your food, but your body needs time to rest. You need time to rest. He needs time to simply hold your limp, unconscious body in his arms, clutching onto you like a lifeline and pressing you as tightly against his body as possible just to prove to himself that you’re here, that you’re alive, that you haven’t left him.
Kiyoomi doesn’t necessarily like drugging you, but it’s the only way to keep you from hurting yourself again for the next day or so, the only way to make sure you don’t have a repeat offense.
You hadn’t meant it – really, you swear you hadn’t – when you’d left the shower curtain a little too open. The water wasn’t supposed to be splashing out and leaving a puddle directly outside of the tub.
You know how Kiyoomi gets – irritated by the mess, those dark eyes clouding and frustration settling across his features because you’re so damn clumsy, can’t you notice when the shower curtain’s wide open? As you glanced at the clock sitting against the stark white walls of the bathroom, you bit your lip. He would be home any minute now from practice, surely needing to be in the exact space you currently were, aching to get every bit of sweat off his skin.
The towel clutched in your hand wasn’t absorbing as much as you needed it to, the gray already turned a dark, near black color despite how much water was left on the tiled ground. Cursing, you sat back on your heels, resigning yourself to needing to dirty another one and having to deal with Kiyoomi’s multitude of questions.
But as you shifted your weight, hands braced against your thighs to sit up, the sudden impact of the back of your head against the edge of the marbled countertop make you cry out, the stinging sensation followed by a dull thud making you collapse down. Clutching at the injured area, tears pricked at your lashes, body curling up into a feeble position despite the water now absorbing into the freshly clean clothing you’d just changed into.
Your vision was hazy, everything looking warped and bent, and you only very distantly hear the sound of the multitude of locks on the front door opening, Kiyoomi’s grumpy I’m home resounding through the apartment. His footsteps are heavy as he wanders through the rooms, slowly growing in speed and weight as he begins worrying, unable to find you.
But you do hear when he gets to the bathroom doorway, wide gaze catching sight of your curled-up form and the slew of curses falling past his lips as he immediately drops his bag and stumbles down to you. You’re clutching your head and through your bleary eyes you can see the way all color has drained from his face, eyes blown wide.
He doesn’t bother asking what happened as he scoops you into his arms, adrenaline coursing through him and forcing him to run through the apartment to your shared bed, settling you down as gracefully as possible. Before you can orient yourself he’s already pressing cold cloths against your scalp, shoving thermometers into your mouth and compulsively checking your pulse points, terror still running through him.
He’s muttering under his breath, what sounds like your name mixed with mantras of she’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay, though it sounds less like a statement and more like a hope.
It doesn’t take long for you to slip into unconsciousness, only being awoken a while later by Kiyoomi’s thumb stroking at your cheek, his eyes red and watershot, as if he’d been crying. Drink this, he tells you, holding a glass of what looks like water out to you.
When you don’t move, he grimaces. Please.
Your sips are slow, your head feeling like cotton, and Kiyoomi watches with baited breath, a hand still placed high on your thigh over the covers of your shared bed.
Those dark eyes are still fixed on you as you lean back, sudden exhaustion rolling through you, your own eyes fluttering closed once more. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out once you wake up, but it’s early morning now, from the looks of the barred window, and as you slowly come back to consciousness, trying to ignore the sharp pain in your head, you notice Kiyoomi standing at the end of the bed, seeming to loom over you.
He doesn’t say much, only rushing forward to grasp at your hand and once more check your pulse, sighing with relief when it comes back steady and normal. He doesn’t let go for a long time, still silently staring, watching the way you squirm and wince as your headache throbs. And when you eventually wander out of the room that night to see him making dinner, you won’t bother asking why the calendar shows that two days have passed, nor why there seems to be a thick rubber padding on every desk, table, and counter corner you see. It’s not worth it, really, because you already know the answer.
And as Kiyoomi spots you, the small smile that spreads across his lips makes your skin crawl, your thighs shifting weight as the lacy panties you know you didn’t have on previously tickle against your skin.
Sit down, love, dinner is ready.
And he can only smile when you do, something flickering in his heart at the sight of you looking at him with wide eyes, all confused and pretty and so very pliable. Sure, your concussion is no small injury, but the way you’d been sleeping so soundly in his bed, the smallest snores slipping past your lips and your body seeming to mold against his when he’d pulled you against his chest made him almost grateful for your clumsiness.
Stupid girl, he chides to himself. This is why you need me, can’t you see?
OVERALL DANGER:
8/10
While Kiyoomi himself isn’t inherently dangerous, what makes him such an intense yandere is his blatant disregard for hiding his feelings from you. He doesn’t care whether you see how deeply obsessed with you he is, whether you become aware that he wants nothing more than to keep you with him forever and ever.
Kiyoomi is resourceful and follows through with his plans and goals, so once you’ve gotten his attention, you can kiss any ounce of freedom goodbye. He’s controlling and possessive, and it’ll almost feel like you aren’t even yourself anymore, but Kiyoomi will always be there - looking down at you with an impossible to read expression, before a small flush will coat his cheeks and he’ll gently flick your forehead, telling you that he loves you and that he’s happy to have you with him, where you belong.
Of course, it’s not like you have a choice in the matter, but there’s something deliciously pleasant about pretending that you want to be here, something that makes his heart race and blood rush to both his cheeks and between his legs.
Kiyoomi is a tricky case, because your initial friendship with him and the odd charm of his strange idiosyncrasies will leave you naively blind to the way he slowly devolves into a deeper and deeper state of obsession. You can’t see the way he begins losing himself, all his time and focus beginning to shift only to you, and by the time you truly realize just how far gone he is, it’s too late to get away from him.
Because Kiyoomi has thought of absolutely everything – it’s practically impossible to get away from him, and really, can you so easily disregard years of friendship once the warning signs become clear? Are you so inhuman and cold as to pull away from your closest friend once he starts acting strange?
Perhaps you’re the crazy one here – a sentiment that Kiyoomi will only encourage if it means getting you to touch him, if it means you saying yes to spending the night at his apartment, if it means you say yes when he tells you that pregnancy would suit you.
But really, it doesn’t matter – after all, you’re Kiyoomi’s now, and absolutely nothing will change that.
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EZRAN: Prince Karim, all Queen Janai wants is peace. There's no need to attack. Take your army, the people who follow you, and build your own future somewhere away from here.
KARIM: But I agree with you. There is no need for violence today if my terms are met. EZRAN: Your terms? Prince Karim, I may be a child, but I know how to count. Janai's five armies are more than your one. The Queen expects to defeat you decisively. KARIM: And I expect my sister to surrender unconditionally and acknowledge me as the High King of the Sunfire Empire. EZRAN: I don't think— KARIM: And all humans will leave our lands immediately, and return to the other side of the border. Where you belong. EZRAN: You can't force the humans to leave. People have made friendships, built families. Your own sister is marrying a human! KARIM: I know this must seem harsh to you, but... history cannot be forged without fire. Without strength.
EZRAN: I am a king. And as a king, I choose love over strength. Sometimes it's hard, but when I struggle, I think about the people I love and how they are counting on me to do the right thing. Not the harsh thing, not the strong thing. The right thing.
KARIM: But she will always be my sister. EZRAN: Then you can still choose love. It's not too late. KARIM: The great Archdragon of the Sun was faced with a choice long ago. He chose fire. I honour Sol Regem now, as my sister should have done when she had the chance. [...] EZRAN: You want Janai to attack! And when she does... you'll call down Sol Regem and—they won't stand a chance! KARIM: Ah. Humans might be more clever than I thought. I don't need five armies when I have one archdragon.
A few notes, as always:
Karim, when nudged by Miyana, acknowledged in 6x02 that what they were doing, they were doing "for us" and "for [their people]" and I think in a lot of ways, like Viren, that's what it initially started out as. However, here we see most clearly that this is about Karim's ego (shocking, I know) and pride. He wants to be king of this land, he wants to crush and restore 'natural order' to Xadia by expelling humans again. Just having this own followers and his own piece of land elsewhere isn't enough, even though it would be if his people's happiness was all he cared about.
Ezran offers a variety of options and perspectives to Karim to appeal to him — you could leave peacefully with your people, you can make active choices, don't you love your sister? — the latter of which being the only one to really get under his skin. I also like seeing Ezran advocate on behalf of his citizens (and possibly others) who have been integrated into Sunfire society and daily life. Karim wants to return Xadia to being wholly divided, but Ezran — like Janai, and Amaya, and the bulk of the main cast — want reintegration, for humans to live on both sides of the border again (and elves beyond just Rayla I'm sure).
We also see consistent motifs such as the 'paths' element that arc 2 has largely fostered, Karim's focus on history and fire, consistent themes like the emphasis on choices, as well as anyone — but especially Ezran — harkening back directly to Harrow's letter from 2x06, which is the first time in seasons we've heard the same sentiments so directly expressed. (Crying over "No, it's too late for that" in 1x02 vs "Then you can still choose love, it's not too late").
I also really enjoy the way this scene tests Ezran. As he said in 4x03, "We all want love and we all want peace" and here, he's presented directly with the opposite: Queen Janai wants peace, but Karim wants violence, he wants to be attacked so that he can have the upper hand, and that's when Ez and Corvus know they need to get out of here.
I also can't help but think about how relevant Ezran's speech here is going to be when he encounters Runaan in S7. We saw in the TDP short story "Deep Below" that he will likely want to do the "harsh thing, the strong thing," rather than the right thing. It makes me wonder if we'll see more of an Ezran&Rayla focus as a way to guide him through. After all, Runaan murdered his father, but Runaan is also Rayla's father—and doesn't Ezran love his sister?
#tdp ezran#ezran#prince karim#the dragon prince#tdp spoilers#tdp#s6 spoilers#6x07#subset: choices#the sunfire royal family#the cycle#anyway hands down some of the best scenes this season im chewing drywall#analysis series#analysis#s6#arc 2
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Orla's Non-Bat Comic Recs.
Hello folks, in light of the 'all published comics are BAD' wave that has been swept everywhere recently I would like to share a collection of comics that are good actually and are generally isolated (you don't need a spreadsheet to read them).
1.) Impulse (1995)
Why: This is about a neurodiverse coded teenage refugee from the future who cannot live with his blood family in the 20th century due to circumstances that are beyond his control. It is about learning to adapt to a world that doesn't make sense, and learning to love it too. As time goes on Bart learns how to love and he discovers who he is and what is important to him really. All the while some of the most chaotic things happen that you may ever see in a comic (Bart tricks the whole school into getting into a brawl and drives a car off a cliff). Primary themes: Found family (for real), loss, immigration coding, neurodiversity, foster homes, friendship, self discovery, school. Trigger warnings: child abuse, ableism, ptsd, gangs and gun violence (a shocking amount) mental illness. Available in Trade Paperback: Partially. Reckless Youth - collects Bart's first appearances from The Flash plus issues #1-#6 in Impulse. Flash/Impulse: Runs in the Family - collects Impulse #1-#12 plus supplementary issues from The Flash. Mercury Falling - Collects the entire Mercury Falling arc.
2.) Jack Kirby's New Gods (1971)
Why: This is the epic that started it all with Darkseid as he scours the earth in search of the Anti-Life Equation. It is about many deep layers of history involving the New Gods, the divide between New Genesis and Apokolips. In desperation to stop an endless war Darkseid and Highfather of New Genesis agree to a pact - to trade sons and in return a long period of truce and a ceasefire would pass between worlds. Highfather agreed, trading his son for Darkseid's whom he raised with love on New Genesis. Orion, years later, is a god of war and he fights for New Genesis and he fights for Earth, undogged he persists in vanquishing Darkseid's evil wherever it dwells. But Orion has a secret, and deep shame, for he experiences anger and wrath like no other on New Genesis but there is deep compassion and love that tempers it. As Orion fights for Earth he uncovers many secrets about himself, and at his side is his 'friend' Lightray who knows the darkness in him but never turns away. Primary themes: war, anger, ptsd, secrets, space opera, family, anti-war, malice, self discovery Trigger warnings: ptsd, this was written in the 70s but was pretty liberal for its time, still has some awkward moments that are slightly sexist and racist (mostly with names of black characters Vykin the Black and Black Racer which some people are uncomfortable with). Available in Trade Paperback: Complete. 1 book. Jack Kirby's New Gods - Collects all issues of Jack's 1971 series plus Even Gods Must Die and The Hunger Dogs. NOTE: Jack Kirby's entire Fourth World epic with Mr. Miracle and The Forever People is also highly recommended and is part of the New Gods tale. All 3 series has been complied into one massive trade called Jack Kirby's Fourth World, and all are available individually as well. Either way you might be able to find these at your library, or on Hooplah.
3.) Orion by Walter Simonson
Why: Decades after Jack Kirby wrote his final chapter for New Gods Orion finally gets his solo where he faces his father on Apokolips and steps up as its ruler. Now the leader of Apokolips Orion begins the arduous task of cleansing it of its malice and cruelty, a feat that is not easy and even more so when he does it without aid. With sinister deception at every turn Orion struggles and finds himself being tempted to use the very force that he was sworn to protect everyone from; the very anti-life equation itself. Primary themes; deceit, temptation, rebirth, life and death, redemption, mercy, compassion, love, forgiveness. Trigger warnings: torture, sexual assault implications. Available in Trade Paperback - Complete. 2 books.
4.) Barda by Ngozi Ukazu (NEW!!)
Why: This is a graphic novel and is a retelling of Barda as she comes to understand love and what she really wants from her life all while navigating the cruelty of Apokolips. Primary themes: love, cruelty, malice, torture, imprisonment, hope Trigger Warnings: torture, execution. Single complete graphic novel.
5.) Superman: The Harvests of Youth by Sina Grace
Why: This is a heartbreaking coming of age story about Clark Kent as a teenager in Smallville as he finds his place among his friends, family and himself as an alien during a time of death and hatred. It is a young Superman story that is incredibly relevant today in an age of internet toxicity and leaves you feeling hopeful. This blends some elements from Smallville (the show) but tweaks them to make this its own unique bubble world that feels believable and fresh. Primary Themes: toxic masculinity, incels, bullying, suicide, capitalism, teenage coming of age, teenage romance, high school Single complete graphic novel
6.) Superman Smashes The Klan by Gene Luen Yang
Why: In the 1940s the Superman Radio Show released the story "Clan of the Fiery Cross" that told a terrifying story about the KKK targeting a Chinese-American family that moved from Chinatown into Metropolis white-dominated suburbs following WWII. This is a graphic novel that is based on the same story. Primary Themes: racism, identity issues, internalized racism, police brutality. Single complete graphic novel, and also has 3 separate novels.
7.) Bad Dream: A Dreamer Story by Nicole Maines (New!!)
Why: This is Nia Nal's solo and origin story that has been confirmed to take place in the main verse for the current comics. Nia was born and raised in a small heavily isolated Sanctuary where aliens live safely. Even among dozens of alien species Nia is still seen as different as she is the only person who is trans. To complicate everything even more, Nia inherits her people's precognitive powers when her sister Maeve was raised her entire life to accept the powers into her. Terrified of her new powers and destroying her family by revealing them she inherited them instead of her sister, she flees from her hometown to Metropolis where she for the first time in her life meets other queer people. But there is a threat to her family on the horizon, and in order to protect them she must go back and face her fears. Primary Themes: transphobia, self discovery, xenophobia, acceptance, fearfulness, family, secrets, deceit. Trigger Warnings: see above, also internalized queerphobia. Single Complete Graphic Novel
8.) Static: Season One
Why: This is a modern retelling of Milestone Comic's Static as bullied nerd Virgil Hawkins comes into his powers at a protest when police discharge an experimental tear gas. The gas leaves many of his classmates dead, but some like him gain amazing powers - unfortunately some other people, like his bullies, also gain powers. Caught between law enforcement, capitalism, and the complexities of being a new teenage superhero Virgil works to uplift his community and stay strong within his nerdy friend group. This series is heavily based on the Static Shock TV show so fans of that show will be delighted with familiar faces, and names. And yes, Richie Foley is gay. Primary Themes: racism, police brutality, bullying, anger, frustration, dehumanization. Trigger Warnings: See above Available in Trade Paperback - Complete in Static: Season One which collects all six issues. Note: We also have its sequel Static: Shadows of Dakota out as well.
9.) Superman: American Alien
Why: This is a collection of short stories about Clark at varying stages of his life that range from funny to incredibly heartfelt. Primary Themes: finding ones self, self discovery, compassion Trigger warnings: I cannot think of one Available in Trade Paperback - Complete as Superman: American Alien which collects all 7 stories.
10.) Legion of Super-Heroes: Post-Zero Hour Reboot
Why: In the 30th century R.J. Brande Industries creates the Star Gate System, finally connecting the galaxy closer than it ever had before. Travel that once took months or years to complete now could only take hours and with it came the United Planets with Earth as its home headquarters. In an effort to promote the United Planets and unify the galaxy, the Legion of Super-Heroes was formed by Brande as a peacekeeping unit and an inspiration to cooperation. Sadly, it was co-opted by political parties and turned into a draft for talented teenagers to serve, or risk their planet's enrollment in the U.P. Over the course of over 200 issues teenage super heroes are given unfathomable responsibility and power while unifying to protect their galaxy and friendships while combating xenophobia and political corruption. This series is everything people wanted TTv3 to be but never got. Primary Themes: Dehumanization, loss of autonomy, death, life, space, technology, capitalism, political corruption, manipulation, deceit, hope, romance, found family Trigger Warnings: See above plus ableism and teenage pregnancy. Available in Trade Paperback: Partially. We have 2 volumes called Legionnaires which collect approximately 20 issues, plus extra content, of this run. We also have various other trade collections such as Legion Lost in its entirety.
11.) Ascender and Descender by Jeff Lemire and Dustin Nguyen
Why: Tired of superheroes? These are two separate series that follow the same story about a young companion robot named Tim who was assigned to be his human brother's best friend and companion. Unfortunately, during a mining accident his entire colony had to flee and leave him behind as they attempted to escape toxic gas. 10 years have gone by since then, and a lot has changed in the world since he was shut down. Mostly being 95% of all robots have been destroyed and are targeted for destruction after a mysterious robotic alien force attacked all sentient worlds and obliterated the populations down to catastrophic levels. All Tim wants to do is find his brother Andy, but what has become of Andy in 10 years, and what will happen to him in 10 more years after they reunite? This story takes place over 20 years as Tim and Andy both grow and change, as they face the challenges before them and unravel the mystery of the Artificial Intelligence that swore to destroy all organic life. Oh, and magic is also involved too. Primary themes: hatred, violence, abuse, xenophobia, forgiveness, found family, brothers, dehumanization, life, death, magic, balance, manipulation, deceit, mysteries, will probably remind you of Mass Effect. Trigger Warnings: see above Available in Trade Paperback: the entire series is available across multiple books.
That's all I have for now folks, I'm tired of writing.
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ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PREVIEW]
❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞
SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.
PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader
GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)
WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love
WORD COUNT: 2.7k (preview) | ..pending (full fic)
NOTES: hello everyone, this is my baby, the birth was very special, i love my baby so much 💗 listen! i started this in early august and i am STILL going, this going to be LONG.. longest mins-fins work ever long 😞 im estimating 30–40k, the power of mark lee yall 😇 it's going to go on forever, and it's definitely going to be sad in some ways, i am currently about to hit 20k words.. sooooiooooo 😊😊 i hope you like this preview bc i really dk when the real thing is coming out 😭😭 im in so much pain rn, let me nap now 😴
BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.
fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.
mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.
so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had heard too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.
and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.
"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.
"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).
mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".
"watch your mouth, you need me".
just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".
in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"
"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.
mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.
"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".
mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."
"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".
donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"
mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.
you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.
swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.
you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"
mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".
you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"
"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".
"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".
mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".
the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"
before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".
a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."
"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".
"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"
there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.
"you know i can't do that kid".
your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."
you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".
you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".
mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.
"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.
you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".
mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".
he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.
you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.
you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".
"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".
you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.
"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".
mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.
"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.
you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".
and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.
"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.
the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.
mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"
donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."
"why?"
his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".
mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".
"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".
mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.
"why are you even asking me about y/n?"
mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".
the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he's practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".
donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".
mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.
that? that was two months ago.
before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.
september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.
when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"
his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".
mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.
he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.
you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.
maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?
while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.
you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.
"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.
"hi".
"we uh— were partners for the project".
your smile is neutral. "i know".
mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"
he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.
but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).
"that'd be nice".
mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"
your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".
tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.
"okay, have a good day y/n".
mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.
still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.
#mark lee#nct#nct 127#nct dream#nct u#mark nct#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct scenarios#mark lee imagines#mark lee drabbles#mark lee scenarios#mark lee x reader#nct x reader#mark lee x male reader#𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!
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I’m just thinking long and hard about the way Akiren and Akechi are written as foils for each other. Because of course, the game drives it home for us that the two are narrative foils: Akiren is the champion of free will who finds power through his friendships, Akechi represents the ways society binds us. He is chained by his desire to be wanted (importantly, by the wrong people– I’ll get to that).
At first glance, Akiren and Akechi’s point of divergence has to do with their relationships– Akiren has confidants, Akechi doesn’t, and this is the deciding factor in Akiren’s victory over Akechi on November 20th and in the engine room. Still, while this is certainly part of what makes their relationship important as a narrative device, it’s not the full picture. That, I think, has more to do with the fact that they both desperately want the very relationships that are used to foil them. They have common ground, and that’s what makes the emotional beats of their differences hit as hard as they do.
Even though Akechi doesn’t have the close bonds that Akiren does with his friends, he is defined as a character by his desire to belong. He wants to be praised and given everything he feels he was denied by Shido’s callous disregard for his mother and society’s unjust treatment of him after her death. He was a self-proclaimed “undesirable child” who spent his young adult life doing everything in his power to never feel unwanted again. He literally spells it out in his engine room monologue– “I was extremely particular about my life, my grades, my public image, so someone would want me around!”
Akiren, like Akechi, begins his character arc as a social outcast. Unlike Akechi, who appeals to systemic power to claim social clout and chase his own sense of belonging (the Shido revenge plot, which would, uhm, theoretically end with Shido acknowledging his son’s worth), Akiren finds family with other outcasts. All of the Phantom Thieves understand his struggle, and because of this they foster a sense of understanding and community that Akechi never gets to experience.
It is important to note that these bonds are deepened when Akiren helps those around him. While there’s absolutely nothing bad about doing things for the people you care about– in fact, most would argue that this is what makes a friendship a good one– we can take a reasonable guess that Akiren craves the love of those around him just a bit more than is healthy for him. He plays therapist for half of Tokyo– he stretches himself absurdly thin for the sake of his friends. That’s a bit much to ask of one person, but Akiren seems to demand it of himself. This is the nature of confidant routes as a game mechanic, of course, but hey, reading into game mechanics is important to getting a solid reading of who Akiren is behind the mask!
The crux of it is, Akiren and Akechi are both lonely characters. Their desire to be loved quite literally drives the narrative of the game, both in terms of plot and gameplay. What makes their foiling so tragic is the fact that Akechi so obviously wants what he has himself determined he can’t have. He says as much in the engine room when he questions why Akiren has things that he doesn’t, despite being (as he says) criminal trash living in an attic.
And yet, Akechi’s isolation is frankly the result of his own decisions. He is the one who chooses to work for Shido. He is the one who acts on a worldview that requires he keep his cards close to his chest to win— against Shido and against the world that wronged him— and to be considered desirable (even despite the fact that this mindset obviously works against satiating his hunger to be loved. He really needs to go to therapy, but I digress).
I don’t think Akechi even knows how to go about claiming what Akiren managed to. Akechi has agency in the actions he takes, absolutely– he would be furious about any suggestion to the contrary– but in many ways, the choices he feels himself able to make are constrained by his circumstances and the lessons imparted to him by his past.
All this to say, Akechi and Akiren aren’t different because Akechi doesn’t want teammates, or even friends. He sincerely wants everything Akiren has. He tells us this in the engine room. He shoots himself in the foot by prioritizing approval from society and love from Shido above other relationships. But thinking from inside his shoes, what else was he going to do? Where else would he have thought to turn to find what he wanted? He was dealt a horrible hand and he played his cards according to the rule book he was given. If the world were just, Akiren and Akechi wouldn’t be foils. It’s the injustice implicit in that that really drives home the point I think P5 is trying to make when it foils Akiren and Akechi in the first place. It also, personally, has been making me want to scream all day.
On a related note, this is also the exact reason that Akechi being the one to bring up that things might have been different if only he met Akiren a few years sooner makes me want to throw things, but this post is long enough. I’ll save all that for later!
#writing this has also had me thinking about the touchy topic that is ‘agency’ in akechi’s narrative#he makes choices AND he’s a victim of circumstance AND neither of those things cancel each other out#I made a post about this a while back but I think I’ll revisit it soon because again— a topic that makes me froth at the mouth#also did y’all notice I got a little foucauldian with my akechi analysis 👀#I can’t resist. maybe more on THAT later too!#anyway this is scattered and left of coherent but hey I had a lot on my mind!#persona 5#goro akechi
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My Reply | S.R
This one was a request from the lovely @reidsaurora-replies for my milestone celebration which got wildly out of hand. I think I damn near used every lyric of the song in this one. Also, Maeve does not exist in this universe. I felt like his phone calls with her were too similar to the letters with reader and not needed
Summary - Spencer writes his deepest tragedies down on paper for his pen pal. After ten years of exchanging letters and some divine intervention from JJ, the two of you finally come face to face.
CW - this one covers most of Spencer’s canon storylines including Tobis Hankel and his drug addiction, his moms illness, his fathers abandonment, getting shot in the knee, his headaches, Emily’s “death”, prison arc, Mr Scratch and Emily’s kidnapping, angst, interfering friends, lots of literary quotes.
WC - 6.3k
Making friends was always something Spencer Reid had been inherently bad at. He was always too young or too smart which always seemed to put people off of forming friendships with him.
When he joined the BAU, his team called themselves his friends. But Spencer knew if he’d met any of them outside of work he would have nothing in common with them.
They were simply friends by proximity, which admittedly was better than having no friends at all. But he couldn’t talk to them about everything, afraid to scare them away with talk of his mothers illness or his fathers abandonment.
And sometimes he just needed to talk to someone.
It was Garcia’s idea that he sign up for a pen pal. When she found out about his mom during the course of the fisher king case, he’d confessed that he didn’t feel comfortable talking to the team about such things.
At first she’d actually suggested talking to someone online, she had many online friends who she talked to in various chat rooms. But after almost an hour of trying to explain that to the technophobe doctor and getting little more than a deep frown in response, she changed tact.
A pen pal appealed to Spencer greatly. He already wrote daily letters to his mom and found it somewhat cathartic, getting his thoughts down on the page, but he never bothered her with the darker stuff.
The idea of a faceless person he’d never meet reading his deepest, darkest thoughts was actually intriguing to him. And so with the help of Penelope he found himself a pen pal.
In his first letter he’d just introduced the basics, his name and age, what he did for a living and that he lived in DC.
He went on to explain how hard he found it to make friends and the difficulties of talking to his already established friends about the darker parts of his life. He ended the letter with a quote from To Kill a Mockingbird.
“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view…until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” - Harper Lee.
He received a reply little over a week later.
Your name was Y/N and you were twenty two, three years younger than him and a grad student at Columbia University. You told him you would be happy to read whatever he sent you, that you were more than willing for him to write to you about the things he didn’t tell his friends.
You signed off with a quote of your own quote from the book Infinite Jest.
“You will become way less concerned with what other people think of you when you realise how seldom they do.” - David Foster Wallace.
And so he did just as you said and he wrote another letter.
His second letter to you was five pages long. He went into great detail about his mothers illness, how he’d been left to deal with it alone at ten years old. He wrote about how he’d made the decision at eighteen years old to have her committed to a sanitarium.
He told you about growing up as a child prodigy in Las Vegas and how hard that was. You were the first person he ever told about Alexa Lisbon and being tied naked to a flagpole.
He spoke about the events surrounding Elle leaving the team and how it didn’t feel complete without her.
He ended the letter by apologising profusely that he’d wasted your time with his long winded rambles and said he hoped to hear from you soon and scrawled a quote from The Great Gatsby.
“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald.
He said he would understand if you didn’t reply. But you did.
The letter took two weeks to arrive and you explained that it was because you wanted to really process his words and give each and every one of them the time they deserved. He read the last few lines of your letter over and over again in a loop even though they were etched into his memory after only one glance.
I wish there was something I could say, to erase each and every page you've been through,
even though it's not my place to save you.
“When I get lonely these days, I think: so be lonely. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.” - Elizabeth Gilbert - Eat, Pray, Love.
He wasn’t familiar with the book and so he’d gone out and brought it and read it cover to cover within an hour.
Reading your letter made Spencer feel understood for the first time in his young life. You didn’t pass judgement on him. Spencer found that between the pages of your letters he found a kindred spirit.
The letters continued back and forth for several months until one day you didn’t receive a reply. His last letter had been penned to you on route to a case in Atlanta, which you’d responded to the day you received it. But there was radio silence from Spencer.
You shouldn’t have been as worried as you were, but you couldn’t help yourself. His letters had become such a huge part of your world, often rereading them hundreds of times just to make sure you didn’t miss any little nuance on the page.
His handwriting was ingrained within you, his scrawly, sometimes barely legible penmanship danced behind your eyelids every time you closed your eyes. His letters had rapidly become the best part of any day. And for over a year you didn’t receive a reply.
After a while you’d stopped holding out hope every time you collected your mail. Eventually you gave up ever expecting to hear from him again. Maybe he didn’t need you anymore. Perhaps he’d made a real life friend, maybe even a girlfriend and you’d been rendered ineffective.
But then little over a year after you sent your last letter, you found an envelope in your mail slot with the familiar handwriting you adored so much and the DC postmark.
Y/N,
I don’t really have any excuses, all I can say is I’m sorry. I have written you fifty three letters over the course of the last year but never mailed a single one. They are piled up on my desk, addressed and even stamped, but I couldn’t bring myself to mail them.
I’ve been struggling, I can’t lie to you. I can’t even lie to you through a letter and tell you I’ve been fine because I haven’t. I think you would see through my prose, know that I wasn’t being truthful. And you’ve never given me a reason to be anything but honest with you.
The case in Atlanta was one of the hardest I’ve ever worked. I’m not going to beat around the bush, I’m just going to tell what happened and hopefully this letter will end up with you and not in the pile on my desk.
I was kidnapped by the man we were hunting down. I spent two days tied to a chair being beaten within an inch of my life but a man with multiple personalities. In fact, that’s not strictly true. I wasn’t beaten within an inch of my life; one of the personas killed me.
I’m not entirely sure how long I was technically dead before he revived me but obviously not long enough to cause permanent neurological damage. Irreversible brain damage occurs after four minutes without oxygen so it stands to reason it was less than four minutes.
But during that time, my life flashed before my eyes, including every single word of every single one of your letters.
One of the alter’s drugged me in his own way of trying to save me. Drugging me was supposed to help with the pain, both mental and physical. I fought it at first, desperate for him not to stick that needle in my vein. But after that first hit, I stopped resisting.
I think you can probably already see where this is going. You’re incredibly smart and you seem to know me so well. After I shot Tobias Hankel dead I took three vials of dilaudid from his corpse.
I should have prefaced this by saying I am now ten months sober, and offered up the good news first. But there were several months that I continued using the drug in secret, hoping it would aid in erasing the memories of it all.
It took a case in New Orleans in which I met up with an old friend Ethan and ended up almost destroying my career for me to decide to get sober. I’ve had a lot of difficulties in my life, as you know, but getting clean is the hardest thing I have ever done.
And now for the first time in months I’m craving again. Maybe that’s why I’m writing to you, determined to send this letter this time. I need to know that everything is going to be ok and you are the only one that I will believe it from.
My team tries. Now it's all out in the open, they try to help. But you don’t even need to try. Your help is so effortless, so easy and I’m in real need of that right now.
His letter went on in this vein for another six pages. He also included several pages of handwritten poetry which he had copied out of a book to send you. With each word you consumed you felt your heart breaking for him a piece at a time.
And he signed off with a surprising choice of quote from The Lorax.
“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” - Dr Seuss.
You spent the next month or so trying to cultivate the perfect reply, but for the first time in your life, words failed you.
It was three days after Spencer received his one year sober chip that your letter arrived.
I got your letter and the poetry you sent me, postmarked in December of last year. I really hope you’re doing better, all your friends close by your side, one step closer to recovery.
I hope by the time you receive this you are close to one year sober, but if you didn’t make it you need to know that’s ok too. Life is full of ups and downs Spencer. If you didn’t make it this time you will the next time. Or the one after that.
If you relapsed I need you to not beat yourself up over it. You will be ok, Spencer Reid, for that I am certain.
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.” Maya Angelou - I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.
***
When he got shot in the knee, he wrote to you from the hospital. He told you how hard it was for him to turn down pain medication when he was in so much agony. But he was over two years sober now and he wouldn’t do anything to risk a relapse.
Your reply spoke of how proud of him you were and how you knew it couldn’t have been easy for him but you hoped the fact you were proud went some way to aid him.
He told you it meant more to him than you would ever know.
Then he started having headaches and the letters became sporadic. When he did write he told you how painful it was for him to try to focus on the words in front of him.
I’ve seen so many doctors and no one can tell me what’s wrong with me. It’s like they think I’m making it up, like this pain isn’t real.
On my good days it’s a dull throb but on the bad days it’s nearly paralysing. I’m so scared that this is a precursor for schizophrenia. I'm still young enough for my first break, and it is a genetic illness.
I love my mom but I can’t turn out like her, Y/N, I just can’t. I'm so, so scared.
But your letters are the greatest comfort to me. I don’t think there are words to describe how much they mean - I will try to surmise it with a quote from Charlotte's Web -
"'Why did you do all this for me?' he asked. 'I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.' 'You have been my friend,' replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing.'" - E.B White.
You could feel his fear through the pages. His handwriting was somehow even harder to read than usual and sentences often tapered off with no ending. There were whole passages scribbled out so violently his pen had ripped the paper in places. There were crude drawings of brains and dark rain clouds in the margins.
Spencer,
I am so sorry you are going through this and that no one can give you the answers you seek. But this isn’t the end for you, even if it is schizophrenia, you can still live a full and normal life.
If you'll just hold on for one more second, if you just hold on to what you have, you will wake up tomorrow. Behind every rain cloud lies the sun. As Victor Hugo said in Les Miserables -
“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”
In his next few letters he seemed to be getting better, his headaches slowly dissipating until they only hassled him every once in a while. Things seemed to be looking up for him.
But then one of his best friends died.
His detailed letter told you all about Ian Doyle and Emily’s history with him and went on to conclude how she died on the operating table.
I’ve been through a lot of trauma in my life, lost a lot of people close to me but never like this. I’ve never had to bury someone I love and honestly I don’t know how to move past this.
My initial reaction has been dilaudid. It's the only thing I can think of to take the pain away.
Tell me not to do it, Y/N, please. Please tell me that this grief will get better and that using drugs again is not the answer. Please help me stay clean.
"When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time — the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers.” John Irving - A Prayer for Owen Meany
It took you longer than it should have done to formulate a reply. You felt pressured, like his sobriety hung in your hands. You hated that his friend had died but you didn’t think it was fair of him to put this on you. And you told him such.
Spencer,
I am sorry to hear about Emily, I know how close the two of you were. I’m no expert on grief, I can’t tell you how to deal with this.
You know full well that using dilaudid again is a bad idea, you really don’t need me to tell you that. Honestly, I’m a little frustrated at you for putting this on my shoulders.
I am always here to help Spencer, in any way I can but sometimes I think you expect too much from me. We’ve been trading letters back and forth for the better part of five years and I don’t think you’ve ever really asked me about myself aside from those first initial letters.
And it’s fine, you needed this friendship more than I did. But over time this has started to feel so one sided and I don’t always look forward to your letters as much as I once did.
I realise this is not the best time for me to be saying these things but I can’t hold back any longer. I’m glad I can be someone you can turn to but I have my own life, my own issues and I have no one to talk to about them.
You put too much pressure on me Spencer and it’s a lot to take. I’ve tried to help shoulder your misery all these years but it’s starting to bring me down. All I can say is you need to wake up, you've gotta believe; you can't give up. Time keeps going on without us, long after we're dead and gone.
And you finished it with a simple quote from After You by Jojo Moyes.
“No journey out of grief was straightforward. There would be good days and bad days.”
It was no surprise to you that you didn’t receive a reply.
***
Y/N,
It’s been two years and I’m sorry for that. Two years, one month and eleven days. The truth is your last letter was hard for me to read as you can probably understand.
The hardest part of reading it was the fact that I knew you were right. I’ve been selfish all these years. I’ve treated you like a sounding board for my problems and never once asked how you were.
It's taken me time to write this because I wanted to get to a better place before I responded. I was angry at first, I felt like I was being abandoned again and my anger would not have been conducive.
Then I was hurt, hurt that the one person I thought would always be there for me had turned their back on me. I displaced my grief over Emily’s death onto you and anything I would have written in that time would have only been the rage fuelled epitaph of a grieving man.
And then once I dealt with those emotions, life simply got away from me. Emily was alive and well, her death was faked to get Doyle off of her back. Again I was angry about being lied to by my friends but eventually I was just happy she was alive.
Then I turned thirty and had a crisis of faith I suppose. I guess with my intellect I always assumed I would be doing something more with my life and turning thirty kind of threw me through a loop.
We had some changes to the team, new agents coming and going. All in all things have been somewhat hectic.
But that’s not why I’m writing.
I am writing because I really do want to know everything about you. I want you to be able to open up to me the way I always have to you. I want to be your shoulder, your repreve. I really hope I haven’t completely blown our friendship and I hope to be the kind of person who you can talk to.
These arms remain stretched out to you and maybe someday you'll accept them. Maybe it's too late to save a young girl's heart that's long stopped beating. But I hope that it isn’t.
“You have been in every way all that anyone could be…if anybody could have saved me it would have been you.” Jennifer Niven - All the Bright Places.
You wanted to tell him it was too little too late, that after two years of silence you weren’t interested anymore.
You wanted to simply not reply, ignore him entirely like he’d done to you.
But you couldn’t. And so you replied.
It was your longest letter to date, depicting in great detail how he’d made you feel over the years and all the hardships you’d faced without having someone to vent to.
But getting to write it all down had been purifying, and by the time you were finished you weren’t mad anymore.
I am willing to give this another shot, but things have to be different. If we’re to continue this friendship then it has to be a two way street.
But I can’t pretend that I haven’t missed your letters because I have. I see pieces of you between the words, parts of yourself I’m not sure you realise you leave on the page.
I’ve painted a picture of you in my mind's eye and even after two years with no letters, I’ve carried that picture with me wherever I go.
I feel like I somehow know you better than I know myself and I hope going forward you can start to know me the same way. Charlotte Bronte once said -
“Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.” - Jane Eyre.
***
Spencer didn’t know how it happened, he only knew that it had happened. Over the course of all the years writing to you it was almost a surprise it hadn’t happened sooner. Or maybe it had and he just didn’t realise until now.
Spencer Reid had fallen in love with the woman who wrote her prose to him.
It had been ten years of letters, every single one of which he kept in their envelopes in date order in the bottom drawer of his desk at home.
Those letters were his lifelines on bad days, the one thing that kept him tethered. He didn’t even know what you looked like, even what you sounded like but he loved you. He loved you with every fibre of his being.
And he couldn’t stop himself from telling you exactly what you meant to him. Even if it inevitably destroyed what the two of you had, he couldn’t stop the words from flying across the page.
So that’s pretty much everything that’s happened these past few weeks. Mom’s doing ok but obviously it's a huge adjustment for her and I’m not entirely sure how long I can keep her living with me but for now it works.
How did the interview go? I have absolutely no doubts that you blew them all away with your presentation, you’re a hard person not to fall in love with.
Your presence in my life has brightened my every waking minute. You once told me that behind every rain cloud lies the sun; you are the sun behind my clouds. Your letters bring me back to life, your handwriting penned onto my soul.
Is it foolish of me to be in love with someone I have never laid eyes on? William Makepeace Thackery said in Vanity Fair -
“It is better to have loved wisely, no doubt: but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.”
I suppose that’s as good of an answer as any.
***
Five days after he penned his love confession, he was arrested in Mexico. Once all the drugs had left his system, only after he was extradited and arraigned and placed at Milburn was he able to dwell on the fact he never received your reply.
And being trapped in a cell gave him way too much time to think about that.
It was possible you had replied, maybe even just to tell him he was crazy to even think he could be in love with someone he had never met. But he was sure you wouldn’t have even bothered to respond, thinking him a lunatic you needed to cut ties with.
After a month in prison on one of JJ’s visits she brought a letter with her which she had found in his apartment. She recognised the handwriting on the envelope from several she’d seen him reading over the years.
She wasn’t allowed to give him the letter but she offered to read it to him. At first he’d declined because he had no idea what to expect from your reply but after several long minutes he’d decided to let JJ read it to him.
Spencer,
I am pleased to hear your mom is doing well but I do think you know that this solution won’t work in the long run. You say you live in a one bedroom apartment? You and I both know that you can’t sustain having your mother live there permanently. But I know you and I know you will figure out what’s best for you both.
The interview was amazing and they offered me the job on the spot. If it wasn’t for all your help with the presentation there is no way I would have gotten it, so thank you so much for that.
As for the other thing…
For some time now I have been wondering about feelings I didn’t understand. You’ve been such a large part of my life for so long and even though we’ve never met I feel like we have, if that makes sense? I feel like in my heart I know you. My heart knows your heart.
Falling for you was as inevitable as the sun rising each morning. Perhaps it is foolish but I believe Thackeray knew what he was talking about. And I also believe Emily Bronte was talking about me and you when she said, “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
Spencer had interrupted JJ then, when she was smiling from ear to ear as she read your words out loud.
“That’s enough.” He cut her off, burying his head in his hands.
“Wow, Spence, I had no idea you’d met someone.”
“I haven’t met anyone. She is simply a woman at the other end of a series of letters.”
“How long?” JJ placed the pages down in front of her.
Spencer looked up at her, a small blush on his cheeks. He didn't want to be talking about this, least of all on the other side of a plexiglass screen with his other inmates nearby but he responded all the same.
“Ten years.” He shrugged.
“Ten years?” JJ sounded incredulous. “Ten years of letters and you’ve never met? Why?”
“I, uh, it never really came up.” It wasn’t a lie, you’d never once discussed meeting in all those years.
“Is it like a distance thing? Does she live far away?”
“No,” He sighed with a shake of his head. “She’s in New York.”
“New York!” She huffed. “New York is a five hour train journey, Spence!”
“Jennifer, now is really not the time for this.” He lowered his voice as JJ’s had garnered eyes in their direction. “There is really no point in discussing this as we have no idea when or even if I’m going to get out of here.”
“Don’t say that.” She shook her head.
“It’s true.” He shrugged sadly. “I really can’t think about all this right now, ok? Just take the letter back to my apartment and pretend you didn’t see it. Please?”
If it weren’t for the desperation in his eyes she might have argued it. But she didn’t want to waste what little time she got to spend with Spencer fighting.
“Ok.” She relented with a small roll of her eyes.
“Thank you, JJ.” He offered a tight lipped smile. “How are the boys?”
JJ filled him in but she wasn’t really focused anymore. In her head, she was already penning a letter of her own…
Y/N,
My name is Jennifer Jareau, JJ, and I work with Spencer at the BAU. I’m not sure if he’s mentioned me to you or not. He hasn’t really told me too much about you if I’m honest. But I have learned that he has strong feelings for you and you for him. I’m wondering if I can make a suggestion…
***
When you received the strange letter from Spencer’s friend JJ in response to yours, you’d been initially extremely confused as to why he was letting his teammates read your secret correspondence.
But when she’d gone on to tell you that Spencer had been arrested along with all the details surrounding his incarceration and how she’d read your letter to him during their visitation, you started to understand.
But then a few days later, before you had a chance to reply to her, you received another letter from Spencer with a postmark from Milburn Correctional Facility.
Y/N,
Maybe Thackeray and Bronte were right or maybe they were wrong, I can’t say for sure. What I can say with certainty is that I can’t carry on like this a moment longer.
Something has happened to me, it won’t be hard for you to figure out what as soon as you see the postmark. I am not willing to get into it or explain how I ended up here. But I have no idea how long I am going to be inside and I don’t want the rest of our communication to be sent through a string of guards who will pick apart each tormented sentence.
I ask you not to write me back. This has to be the end of the road my dear. This letter has to be our last. I don’t know how much longer I will continue to be able to live like this. Each day my hope dies a little more and I’m sure I won’t make it out of here alive.
I am writing simply to say thank you. Thank you for all your years of listening, for all your patience and kind words and your hopeful prose. In my darkest hours you have shown me the light, dragged me out of the shadows of my own creation.
I love you for all that you are and all that you have done but even you can’t save me this time. This really might be the end for me and I don’t want you to blame yourself. You are the only reason I made it this far in this treacherous game we call life.
Take care of yourself, continue to live your absolute best life. And in time I pray that you forget me and are able to love someone far more tangible.
All that is left to say can be summed up by a quote from The Miniaturist -
“You are the sunlight through a window, which I stand in, warmed. My darling.” Jessie Burton.
You replied firstly to Spencer, his heartbreaking words more pressing than JJ’s letter. You kept it short and to the point, knowing that various other prison guards would read it before it even made it to his hands.
I appreciate but can't accept this thank you note that's sealed with your last breath and I won't stand aside and listen to you give up.
You are stronger than that Spencer Reid and if I know anything about your team from all the years of hearing you speak of them it’s that they are the best at what they do and they will prove your innocence.
Just remember what Ernest Hemmingway said in A Farewell to Arms -
“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are stronger at the broken places.”
You will be stronger at those broken places, Spencer, I have no doubt about it.
And besides, if you don’t make it out of there, how do you propose to ever meet me?
Whilst on a role, you grabbed a clean sheet of paper and started scrawling again.
Jennifer,
Thank you for your letter. I have spent some time musing on your suggestion and I think you might be right.
I think it's time for me to take a trip to DC…
***
Spencer never opened your last letter because he had no intention of replying to it. If he didn’t read it, he could pretend you had never sent it and he wouldn’t be tempted to write a response.
Instead he stuffed it between the pages of his book and tried not to think about it.
After two and half months his team proved his innocence and he was released but he was thrown into the deep end of trying to find his mother.
And even once he found her unscathed, he was rapidly thrust right into Scratch’s web after he kidnapped Emily.
Taking the elevator back up to the BAU alongside JJ after they’d escorted Emily to the hospital it already felt like a lifetime had passed since he left prison. And all he wanted to do was chronicle all of it to you.
Maybe once the dust settled, once he’d wrapped his head around everything that happened he would open your letter and send you a reply.
But for the first time in ten years, Spencer didn’t want to drag you into his mess.
JJ was strangely quiet as the elevator made its ascent. He didn’t even want to be here, he’d planned on going straight home after leaving the hospital. He hadn’t slept in his own bed for two and a half months and he couldn’t wait to collapse into it.
But JJ had insisted that instead of him getting the metro home, if he popped back to the BAU with her to collect some paperwork, she would drive him home.
And honestly he was just too exhausted to decline.
JJ’s eyes were hyper focused on the digital floor numbers as they got higher. A few seconds after it displayed number five, one floor below the BAU, she turned and looked at him.
“Don’t hate me for this.” She blurted out.
“Excuse me?” Spencer frowned, too tired to try to understand what she meant.
“I couldn’t just let it go.” She shrugged, a guilty smile on her lips.
“Let what go?” His frown deepened.
Her eyes flicked back upwards as the number five rolled into the number six and the elevator started to judder as it prepared to stop.
“Just remember I love you and that’s the only reason I interfered.” She shrugged as the elevator stopped entirely and soon the doors were peeling open.
Spencer looked away from her and out of the open doors to where someone was standing just a few feet back.
Spencer’s eyes landed on the stranger only it wasn’t a stranger. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew exactly who this person was standing on the BAU floor.
He remembered the way JJ had read him your letter and how you’d told him your heart knows his heart.
Well his heart knew yours too. And he knew the heart beating a few feet away from him was yours.
“Y/N?” He croaked, slowly stepping out of the elevator but not too close to you.
“Spencer?” You smiled at him, the kind that reached all the way to your eyes.
Neither of you noticed JJ slipping quietly away, wanting to give you some privacy.
“What are you doing here?” His brows were furrowed and he was rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.
“You’re friend JJ wrote to me. She told me everything that happened to you. And she made me realise that ten years is too long to wait for a first meeting.” Your voice was like honey to Spencer’s ears.
Your prose was beautiful, but hearing the words from your lips as you stood in front of him in all your ethereal glory was more than any letter could convey.
“I…I am actually speechless.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.
“You? Speechless?” You giggled and Spencer felt the sound all the way to his heart.
“You’ll come to learn I am much more of a wordsmith on paper. In person I am incredibly awkward and often trip over my words. I ramble when I’m nervous or clam up entirely, no in between. I spout facts and statistics rather than have a meaningful conversation. I am much more comfortable writing my words down on paper than speaking them out loud.” He let the words spill out of his mouth, proving his point entirely.
“I’ve waited ten years to hear your voice. Please never stop talking.” You smiled so brightly at him he felt like he was floating.
You were here in front of him, not just hidden between pages of letters. You were real, tangible; within his reach.
And suddenly the last thing Spencer wanted to do was talk.
He took a few tentative steps towards you and cautiously raised a hand to your cheek. You sighed in content when he cupped your face and nuzzled against his palm.
“I could talk to you about anything and everything all day long, my love.” He smiled, inching his face closer to yours. “But at this moment in time I have one slightly more pressing desire to do with my mouth rather than speak.”
“Oh yeah?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
The warmth of your body and your smile encompassed him. As he looked into your eyes, finally looked into your eyes, every bad thing that had ever happened to him slipped away.
“Love starts as a feeling, but to continue is a choice. And I find myself choosing you, more and more every day.” He quoted Justin Wetch’s Bending the Universe.
“Spence?”
“Yes Y/N?”
“As sweet as that is, I thought there were more pressing desires to use your mouth for?”
“If you insist.” He smiled and quickly closed the small space between you.
When his lips finally met yours it felt like all the pieces of the universe were falling into place.
For ten long years you’d communicated in the pages of letters, constructing replies to what felt like one sided conversations that were confined to only live on paper.
As the kiss deepened every single one of those words seemed to float in the air around you, spiralling like a tornado made of a decade worth of missives.
He swore he could hear each and every word whispered to him in the voice he’d longed to hear all these years as he kissed you like you were the most important being on the face of the earth.
And when he pulled back and mumbled I love you against your lips, it was the easiest reply you’d ever given.
#milestone celebration#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds
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Bring Me Home: Chapter 2 Part 4
Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.
In this segment, Sam and Tucker join the chaos!
First, Previous
1.3k words
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As they walked to the burger joint, Danny would point out areas of damage and talk about the fight that caused it. Tim kept track of every comment and was already trying to think of methods to minimize it in the future.
His friends were eating the stories up. Bart especially had way too much fun asking about Danny’s crazy rogues. Skulker was his current favorite. “He wants your pelt?”
“I know, right? He’s so extra.” Then Danny pointed up ahead. “We’re almost there. You can see the building from here. And those two people are my friends.” Danny waved a hand in the air and two teens, one dressed all in black and the other in yellow, waved back.
Danny sped up and soon it was Tim’s turn to give introductions. “Hi! You must be Sam and Tucker. I’ve heard so much about you guys from Danny. These are my friends, Conner, Bart, and Cassie.”
Sam shook his hand. “From Gotham, right? I love the vibes there. What I wouldn’t do for a single good gargoyle in Amity.”
Tim laughed. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to me. Most people try and say they’re sorry for me growing up there. As if Gotham isn’t my home.”
Tucker elbowed her. “That’s our resident goth for you. I’m the tech guy. I’d go just for a chance to check out Wayne Enterprises. The stuff they produce”—he held his hands to his chest—“I’d be in heaven.”
Conner grinned. “Well I’m sure Tim could pull a few strings to get you a tour, what with being Bruce Wayne’s foster kid and all.”
“Kon!” hissed Tim even as Tucker’s eyes lit up.
“Bruce Wayne is your foster dad? You must always get the newest tech. Can I see your phone? At least check out the specs? What I’ve heard of it is to die for! Wait, Danny, is that the phone you were working on? Is she as beautiful as they say?”
Danny groaned and rushed to slap a hand over Tucker’s mouth. “Licking my hand isn’t gonna work, Tuck! Quit gushing at my friend. Tim is interested in an ectobattery, so we’ll stop by your place before returning to my home to grab some for everyone. Then you can at least see the hardware. But you won’t be looking at the software. Capiche?”
Tim glared at Conner as Danny let go of Tucker’s mouth.
“Fine.” Tucker pouted even as he aquiesed.
Sam rolled her eyes. “Quit your fanboying, Tucker. It’s embarrassing.” Then she greeted everyone else. To Conner, she said, “Cool look. Are you actually punk or just taking the aesthetic?”
Conner’s eyes were wide and he looked over to Tim who just shrugged at him. “I— um, I don’t know. What does it mean to be actually punk?”
Sam grinned and opened her mouth, but before she could start talking, Tucker interrupted. “Let’s go in and order. I want my meat and you can continue this conversation inside.”
“Boys!" Sam threw her hands up in the air. "If you ate something besides meat, you’d have more stamina to keep up!”
Tim bit his lip to hold back a laugh. They really were just like Danny said.
Danny groaned. “Sam! Tuck! It’s fine. Lets go in and place our orders. Then you can lecture Conner all about counterculturalism and punk values.”
Conner looked between them all. “Wait, why am I getting a lecture?”
Tucker shook his head. “Dude, you’re the one who asked Sam about what makes someone punk. You’re not getting out of this one.”
Danny made a noise of agreement. “But don’t worry, Sam makes her lectures interesting at least. Enjoy being radicalized!”
Tim put his arm around Conner. “Let me know if you need to get out of it.”
As they made their way inside, Tucker moved so he was walking next to Cassie. “So, Cassie, right? Where are you from?” His voice was pitched low.
Wow, so Tucker really was as bad at flirting as Danny always said.
Cassie realized something was up, and her tone was wary as she answered, “Um, Gateway City. You ever been?”
Tim looked over his shoulder and raised and eyebrow at her, silently asking if she wanted him to intervene. She shook her head slightly and twitched a finger towards Bart who was on her other side.
“Hey!” called an unfamiliar voice. “Watch it, Fentina!”
Tim turned forward just in time to catch Danny who’d been shoved backwards by a boy as big as Conner.
“Really?” asked Danny. He squeezed Tim’s hand as he got his balance back. “What was that for?”
Tim took a step forward and made a show of sizing the boy up. “You must be Dash. Danny’s told me a lot about you.”
Dash sneered at him. “And who are you? Some other nerd?”
Conner stood taller at his side and he felt Cassie and Bart take up positions just behind him. Cassie was the one to snort and quip, “Nerd? What decade are you from? The eighties wants its insult back. Or was that a seventies thing?”
Tucker snickered. “Yeah, Dash. Nerds rule the world right now.”
“Well you don’t rule high school,” said Dash, crossing his arms.
An equally large Asian boy took position next to him. “Yeah, we’re in charge for now. So move it.”
Danny bristled next to him. “I wasn’t even in your way!”
Tim cleared his throat. “Dash Baxter, right? Oldest child of Zachary and Alice Baxter. Dog named Poo—” Danny slammed a hand over Tim’s mouth and he glared at his friend.
“Oh my god, Secrets! What have you done? I swear to god, if you keep going…”
Behind them, he heard Bart laugh and say, “And that’s Bingo for me!”
“Well, damn,” replied Conner. “And I was so close.” If he wasn’t so pissed off at Dash, he would’ve rolled his eyes at their antics. He was so not at risk of going evil.
Dash was staring at all of them, mouth open. “Who are you?”
So Tim spoke into the hand over his mouth as he glared back at Danny. “He deserves it.”
“Nope, don’t care.” To Dash, Danny said, “This is a friend of mine. He and his friends are visiting from out of town.”
But of course things couldn’t just be left at that. Tucker spoke up to add, “He’s Tim Drake. His foster dad is Bruce Wayne.”
Danny turned his glare on his friend. “Tucker,” he hissed.
“What?” the boy shot back. “It’s true!”
Dash snorted. “Right. I’m just supposed to believe you’re friends with a kid of the Bruce Wayne.”
“You don’t have to believe anything,” retorted Danny. “Just let us go order our food in peace. I’m just trying to have a fun evening with my friends.”
Dash glared at him again, but his eyes flicked to the rest of them, lingering especially long on Conner. “You’ll regret lying to us, losers. Come on, Kwan. I need a shower after touching the twink.”
Tim twisted out of Danny’s hand. “What the fuck did you just call him?”
But the two boys didn’t turn around as they stopped out of the restaurant and Danny gripped his bicep and Conner put a restraining arm around his shoulders.
“It’s fine, Tim,” said Danny. “You know they’re always like that.”
“Say the word, Polaris, and I’ll do it.”
But Danny just shook his head and started pulling him towards the counter. “Let’s just order our food and sit down so Sam can give Conner her lecture on what punk is.”
Tim clenched his teeth, but allowed himself to be pulled to the counter where they ordered an obscene amount of food thanks to the appetite of four metas. He insisted on using B’s card to pay for everyone.
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Next
This scene was a ton of fun to write. And Tim gets to meet Danny's bullies in person for the first time. He has several years of pent up frustration from the stories Danny shared.
Tag List Part 1
@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst, @feral-bunny31, @lunaria618, @ghostreblogging, @ace-aro-as-shit, @job-ross-the-second
#dpxdc#danny fenton#tim drake#dead tired#all their friends#bart was warning tim he was toeing the line again#(but he did get bingo)#sam is gonna lecture at conner#will she win a convert to some of her causes?#she's gonna try!
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the house/cuddy relationship is also so interesting because a big part of the essence of 'doom' that the writers give their relationship is also based in direct comparison to the not-doomed-ness of house/wilson. there are so many moments where it feels to me that the writers are grabbing me by the shoulders, shaking me and going 'look!!! look at them and compare them look at how different these two dynamics are'.
one of the most obvious examples of this is in 7x09 when house is trying to get out of hanging out with wilson and going to cuddy's birthday dinner at the same time. cuddy outright asks 'you have to choose one of us,' and house replies 'i choose wilson'. apart from making me giggle, these lines also serve the very obvious purpose of not just being about where house would prefer to spend a thursday evening. it's quite blatant foreshadowing about the fact that, at the end of everything, house always prefers to choose wilson and is more capable of being there for him than he is for anyone else, including romantic partners and especially including cuddy.
the next big example of this that struck me is in 7x15 when cuddy is in surgery. this is an almost word-for-word recreation of the scenario in 6x10 where wilson went into surgery. they both want house to be there, and house struggles to show up both times. we even get this wonderful visual parallel between the two, which is something i've noticed has been talked about a little by other people on here, and so is definitely something I imagine the writers thought about too. with 6x10:
and 7x15:
the key difference between these two situations is house being sober in one, and on drugs in the other. house can be there for wilson and emotionally support him while also being sober, but he cannot do the same for cuddy. this comparison i think is such a clear communication that not only is house's relationship with wilson easier for house to maintain than his relationship with cuddy, but that it is also better for him mentally. with wilson, there isn't an anxiety that he isn't good enough for him the way there is with cuddy, and this just fundamentally fosters a better environment for him as an addict.
this says a lot about house/wilson, but it also says a lot about house's approach to romance versus friendship in general. he places so much more importance on the emotional challenges of a romantic relationship than he does platonic. he spends the whole episode of 7x15 practically agonising over wether cuddy will be ok or not, whereas he spends most of 6x10 telling wilson he's an idiot. he seems to doom himself in romantic relationships by creating so much of his own anxiety: he worries about getting it right, being the man cuddy needs him to be, doing what a good partner should, and it causes him to be unable to actually perform any of these actions without the crutch of being high. this in turn underminines the genuineness of any attempt to be better that he makes in cuddy's eyes. i don't think any of the emotional demands cuddy makes of house are unreasonable at all, but because house is such an emotionally stunted and volatile person he can't approach the very normal expectations of a romantic relationship in any sort of healthy way. the only relationships he can maintain are unconventional ones that don't have these expectations, like his friendship with wilson.
the next example, and the one that is most likely a little bit of a reach, is also in 7x15, specifically in the few dream sequences cuddy has that feature wilson. in the first, she imagines house and wilson as rachel's adoptive fathers (which i've already written a little bit about here if you're interested). then she has another dream set in a black-and-white 50s sitcom where she is the breadwinner, house is the housewife, and wilson is the mailman/milkman (not completely sure which of these he is, but he's definitely one of them). in both of these situations, wilson is the proverbial 'other woman': he takes the place of house's domestic partner in one of the dreams, and in the other he's the mailman/milkman to house's housewife, which traditionally in media is a comedic character pairing that involves the housewife cheating on her working husband with the mailman/milkman. i doubt this symbolism is really that intentional, and i don't think that it's meant to imply any sort of genuine romantic coding between house and wilson, it's probably just a couple of early 2000s gay jokes. but if you critically look at these instances, you can begin to extrapolate a sense that in house's romantic relationships, wilson is always hovering in the background. wilson is always the proverbial 'other woman', someone who's relationship with house is just as important and very likely also easier to maintain for house, just as the inverse is true for wilson as established by testimony from his ex-wife bonnie. i mainly think this inclusion of wilson in these dreams and the deliberate role he plays just serves to remind the viewer that while house and cuddy's relationship is rocky and uncertain, house and wilson's is pretty much constant and inevitable.
the last comment i have on this is about the scene in 7x23 where house crashes his car into cuddy's home. i think you can pretty easily compare wilson and cuddy situationally in this scene: house is putting cuddy in immense danger (though not actually intending on hurting her), whereas in comparison he yells at wilson to get out of the car before he does it. to me, there's an obvious difference there - a deliberate effort to endanger a person vs a deliberate effort to remove a person from danger. and in both instances, house is intentionally causing the danger. it very strikingly reminded me of the scene in 3x07 where house tells wilson to get out of their hotel room before he does something that could incriminate wilson. he specifically tells wilson 'maybe i don't wanna push this til it breaks' in regard to their friendship. house is very cognizant of not pushing wilson away completey, not squandering their relationship once and for all with his dangerous behaviour. but with cuddy, he gets to a point where he actively burns the bridge. the difference to me is sad and clear: house is willing and able to maintain his relationship with wilson. he is not willing and able to maintain his relationship with cuddy. and by comparing the two, each dynamic becomes clearer.
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What Are Friends For?
CHAPTER 1
SUMMARY: When your coworker, Lex Foster, asks you to pretend to be her girlfriend, you agree against your better judgement.
WARNINGS: None that I can think of?
Toy Zone -- As many complaints as you have about the place and its owner, it was one of the only places hiring seven months ago when you desperately needed some extra cash to help pay for the online classes you were taking. It wasn't much -- and still isn't -- but it's enough to get by. Sure, there are other (arguably better) places hiring now. Sure, your boss, Frank, can be a bit of a jerk at times.
You've definitely thought about applying elsewhere a couple times, but the urge is always squashed not long after starting another shift. You can't imagine working somewhere else and no longer seeing Lex as much as you've grown accustomed to. If you could go back in time and tell your past self that Lex Foster, of all people, means as much to you as she now does, your past self would've checked you for a head injury or several. Although the two of you had attended the same high school (until she dropped out), the circles you'd each ran in had never intersected. As she affectionately teases you now, you've always been a bit of a nerdy prude.
Seven months into your job at Toy Zone, though, you've grown to really know -- and really like -- Lex. You love her dry humor, strong heart, and love for her sister. You love the way you can see her lock eyes with you over Frank's shoulder as he rambles on about the newest toy that's sure to fly off the shelves if you could just stock them faster, rolling her eyes before launching into a ridiculous imitation of him that you have to bite your lip not to smile at. You love the way she always waits for you to take your breaks together so that you can stand out back with her as she smokes, always making sure to blow it out away from you. You love the way her eyes light up when she talks about her sister, you love the way she cares so much about things even if she tries so hard to act like she doesn't, you love how strong she is, you--
You need to focus, and you definitely need to stop thinking about your coworker and friend so much, because the more you think about her, the more you realize your feelings are becoming more than simply platonic, which is a problem. It's a problem not only because Lex only just broke up with her boyfriend a month ago, but also because she's, as far as you know, straight. The risk of ruining this friendship you've grown to cherish is just too high. Besides, it would make working here too awkward when she inevitably rejects you, and then you really would have to look for another job.
"Come here often?" a playful voice sounds off behind you, the only warning you have before the owner of it is sliding between the stack of 'Sugar-Gliders' toys beside you and yourself. There's not a lot of space, however, so as Lex leans her shoulder against the shelf, you can feel her Toy Zone vest brush against your arm.
You glance at her as you finish straightening some of the boxes in front of you, an amused smile spreading across your face. "Considering I'm here almost every day, you'd think I would've made an impression by now. Now my ego's bruised."
"I'll kiss it better if you go on break with me now." The comment is an obvious joke, delivered as offhandedly as the multiple other flirtatious comments Lex has made toward you in the past couple months. Even if she doesn't mean it, it momentarily makes it harder for you to breathe nonetheless.
You laugh it off, trying to ignore the warmth you can feel in the tips of your ears. Picking up another box, you mull over her request. "I should finish stocking these first or Frank'll chew me out."
Even as you speak, she's plucking the box out of your hand before placing it back on the stack. "I'll tell him I made you do it; he already thinks I'm a bad influence on you."
"And you don't?" You raise your brows at her, your gaze lowering pointedly at the box she'd literally just taken out of your hand.
She scoffs, her hand flying to her heart. "You wound me, Y/N. Now I'm the one whose ego needs kissing."
Shaking your head, you step back out of her space. All this talk of kissing, joking or not, is making the close proximity way too overwhelming. Maybe a break would be a good idea after all. "Come on before I change my mind, drama queen."
____________________________________________
As you lean back against the wall out back, Lex doing the same a few feet away with a lit cigarette between her fingers, you can tell there's something on the shorter girl's mind. She's been unusually quiet, and you can see her glancing at you every few seconds out of the corner of your eye. You click the side of your phone, turning the screen dark as you slip it back into your pocket. "You okay?"
She almost seems startled when you speak, apparently not realizing how obvious she's been. "Oh, yeah, yeah. Just -- I've got this favor I gotta ask, and I'm trying to figure out how to ask it."
Well, now you're really curious. Lex has never asked you for anything other than occasionally covering a shift for her before. You turn to face her, leaning your shoulder against the wall. "People usually start by saying what the favor is," you joke in an effort to lighten the mood. It seems to work, the corners of Lex's lips quirking upward as she mirrors your movement and turns to face you.
"Okay, smartass." There's a pause as she takes a hit of her cigarette, the movement drawing your eyes to her mouth. You swallow, gaze quickly returning to her eyes. She doesn't seem to notice. "I need a girlfriend."
What the fuck? You didn't hear that right. You couldn't have. Your lips part but no words come out for a second, then two, then three. Then, "I-- And that's-- Huh?"
Apparently your stammering has put her at ease or something because she's chuckling now, taking another hit of her cigarette, and Jesus Christ does she have to be so hot when she smokes?
"Relax, Y/N. I know you're not into girls; I'm not really asking you out. It's just -- You remember Ethan, right?" There's another pause to take another hit, as if she's giving you time to remember him, as if you could forget the guy you'd been jealous of for months leading up to their break-up. "He keeps trying to get back together. He thinks if he just keeps trying, I'll come back to him eventually or something. I just thought maybe if he sees I've moved on, he'll give up."
Okay, so there's a lot to unpack there. You don't know where she got the idea that you're not into girls, but considering the one relationship you had in high school was a secret one with a girl deeply in the closet, you suppose you can't fault her for the assumption. You try -- and fail -- not to feel disappointed at the explanation that Lex isn't actually, truly asking you out for real.
She looks a little anxious again, watching you, waiting for your reaction. You know you should say no. This could really only end one of two ways, after all -- Either it ends in a fake break-up and you have to learn to live with the knowledge of how it feels to be loved by Lex but without the reality of it, or it ends with your real friendship becoming too awkward and loaded to survive.
But if you say no... If you say no, this guy keeps bothering her. If you say no, maybe she asks someone else, and as wrong as it would be for you to say yes, you don't want her to ask someone else.
"... Okay," you finally answer with a resolute nod.
"You totally don't have to," she's quick to reassure, dropping her cigarette and stomping it out before stepping closer to you. Despite her reassurances, she looks relieved with your answer. "I can ask someone else; I just-- I dunno, I don't really trust anyone else."
You give her a smile that you hope is just as reassuring to her as her words are to you, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat has begun to pick up speed. This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. But it's for a good cause, right? That's why you're saying yes. No other reason. "Lex, it's fine. I'm happy to do it."
"Thank God." Another step closer brings her into your space, and before you know it, she's tugging you into a hug. You can smell the cigarette smoke sticking to her leather jacket coupled with the faint scent of the forest. It's got to be some kind of cologne or something, you think. The forest scent, not the cigarette smoke. "I really didn't want to have to ask someone else."
With one of Lex's arms firm around your waist and the other wrapped around your shoulders, you relax into her embrace and return it. Hopefully she can't feel the pounding of your heart against your chest as you reply, "Of course. What are friends for?"
#angela giarratana x reader#lex foster x reader#i was originally going to write a different story but then i wanted to write this instead whoops
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My Chaos Theory Season 2 Nonsensical Rambles! 🦖🦕
Okay, okay. This season was sooo good y’all! For those of you that have watched the season all the way through already, feel free to read. They’re just my comments, notes, and theories that I wrote down after watching each episode. It’s a whole lot of nonsense, really. THIS INCLUDES SPOILERS SO DO NOT READ BELOW THE CUT IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE ANY!!!
Happy JWCT Season 2 release day, too! 🎉 Happy Viewing! And thank you so much to our wonderful writers, animators, voice actors, and everyone in between who came together to make this absolutely phenomenal series come to life! I appreciate you all so very much for all your dedication towards a project that means the absolute world to me! ❤️💐 This season really tugged at the heart strings, and even got some tears out of me at the end. I want everyone to watch this beloved series spoiler free, so last warning— HEAVY SPOILERS AHEAD! I hope you all enjoy it just as much as me.
And again, thank you so so so much to the people who brought this amazing series to fruition. I’ve been struggling a lot lately, and this show— and its franchise— has really made the hard days in my life more bearable to overcome. It has helped me in many ways, and I just wanted you to know how much its meant to me (if they somehow see this). So… Thank you. 💐🌸🌺
🦕🦖 Camp Fam For Life! 🦖🦕
Episode 1:
KENJI WHAT THE HECK?! Why are you being so self sacrificing?! (I know why, but still) Painful to watch. The little spark of Yaz’s and Kenji’s old friendship is so cute, and I really hope she can help him work through this trauma more.
Okay, the beginning with Sammy and Yaz was so simple yet adorable. And the way Yaz wraps her arms around Sammy and pulls her close— STOP MY HEART! 😭🩷💜
Majungasaurus’s are cannibals in this franchise? I need to brush up on research for their species, but I’m just used to having a lot of them in one enclosure when playing Jurassic World Evolution. I’m glad they’re finally getting some spotlight, I’ve always had a soft spot for them. (Okay, I have a soft spot for every carnivore in this entire franchise but you know what I mean).
The lightning and animation was absolutely incredible, especially in the storm sequences. They did great at making the atmosphere fill you with a sense of dread as the characters were getting stalked at every turn. That one frame of Darius hiding behind a crate and holding up his phone towards the Majunga is a personal favorite of mine.
The fluffy moment of Darius, Ben, and Sammy trying to be the first to match a roar with its proper dinosaur was soooo cute. My favorite parts of this series have always been times when they can just relax and have fun— I’m a fluff enjoyer, what can I say? One thing this show really excels at is fostering a lovely friendship between the campers. Their interactions are always lovely.
Darius being the first one to reach out to Kenji and haul him from the boat… I’m glad they’re slowly reconnecting again.
Okay, LETS TALK about the Ben noticing Brooklynn thing. I feel like the DLN fumbled the bag in terms of keeping her a secret. Like… why did they have her in the video? If they’re using her for their own gain like I’m assuming, why would you want to give anyone the inkling that she could be alive? I guess they just didn’t think no one would notice? I mean, she’s the only one not wearing the mask in the photo.
Not Kenji making jokes about his deceased father… It’s in character for him, yes. But still… as his friends said: “Too soon.”
Episode 2:
I read the title “Marooned 5” as “Maroon 5”…
Already I love the new character. It’s really cute how Zayna’s friendship with the Gallimimus sort of mirrors Darius and his ties towards the same species. The Stegos also looked like they were protecting her when they sensed danger.
Sammy being the mama bear of the group now is so 🥺🥺. She’s still the cheerful, positive gal she always was, but I love how she’s matured as she’s grown up.
Kenji trolling Darius got a laugh out of me. Brothers will be brothers.
Suchomimus appreciation! I absolutely adore its patterning, it reminds me a lot of the African savanna’s. It’s ironic, given that Sucho’s were first discovered in Africa. I wonder if that’s merely coincidence, or maybe, just maybe, they’re being transported to continents that they would have lived on millions of years ago? Could it be the DLN’s doing? Or am I just looking into it too much? (Future Me here: Yes, you are)
KENJI WHY DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?!?!?! Bro literally squared up with a Suchomimus. Admire the bravery Kenj, but you’re making my anxiety worse, my guy. 😭😭
I really enjoyed the hints of cohabitation that was present in this episode. Humans gave the stegosaurus’s food, while the stegos offered them protection from predators. THIS is stuff I wanted to see in Jurassic World Dominion. I wanted to see HOW humans coexisted with these dinosaurs.
THE CONCEPT ART *chef’s kiss*
Episode 3:
Ah. We come to the episode a large part of the fandom has been waiting on… A Brooklynn backstory. Boy, was it a doozy. For starters, I didn’t know Brooklynn was a biker. Really hyping up that bad girl persona.
The campers keeping in touch on a zoom call makes this so much more upsetting. They still seemed very close up until Brooklynn died. Then, they just lost touch for a while.
I’ve started realizing I relate a lot to Brooklynn, especially in this episode. She’s overworked and “all over the place”. As someone who can sometimes put too much on her own shoulders, I 100% understand the level of stress she’s putting on herself. Not to mention she can be so caught up in one thing that she misses the actual moment in reality. It’s something I myself am working on; adhd doesn’t exactly help. But I definitely get where’s she’s coming from.
THE DARIUS CONFESSION STRESSED ME OUT HOLY CRAP— Like, the way Brooklynn inches away, Darius quickly tries to change the subject. Gods, it made me anxious just watching. I literally put my head in my hands and started mumbling to myself during the scene. (I’m slowly going insane 😭)
Seeing Brooklynn in pain and anguish once she realized how she lost her arm was heartbreaking. This was the time she needed her friends most. But for their safety in Brooklynn’s eyes, they couldn’t be there.
THE POOR COMPY WITH A CONE AROUND HIS NECK! 😭😭😭 No nibbling, he’s banished to cone jail!!!
So… the camp fam and Brooklynn’s dads came together for her funeral… I could have only imagined how rough that would’ve been. I’m honestly glad they didn’t show it, because I would’ve been balling uncontrollably for the next hour. And the fact that she was going to reveal her false death to her friends and family RIGHT before the DFW came in and screwed it up?!?! Ahhhh!!!!
THAT GUY?! WASN’T HE THE ONE WHO COULDN’T SHOOT A GUN IN SEASON 1?! AND SAMMY’S FARM WAS A SETUP, DID I HEAR THAT RIGHT?!?!?!?! (Someone please clarify, idk if he was talking about farms in general or if it meant Sammy, I forgot)
Episode 4:
Heck yeah! Malta! Crossing my fingers they show it in a later episode.
The small moment of Sammy watching Zayna and her mom… I NEED to know what went on between her and her parents.
Love the parallel between the opening of JW Dominion and Brooklynn’s escape at the farm. It’s a nice little throwback.
Dubai? Why Dubai? I absolutely love the mystery aspect, it’s like the more they reveal, the more questions are brought to the surface. The writers and everyone really went above and beyond this season.
Episode 5:
Sammy acting as the protective older sister of Zayna is so in character for her. “14 and 3/4. She’s still countin’ quarters, Kenj!”
Okay, I probably should’ve said this in an earlier episode, but Ronnie having the user Clever Girl just makes me so inexplicably happy.
SOYONA SANTOS?!?! AAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
WE’VE WON GUYS, WE’VE WON!!!! GUYS IM LOSING MY MIND AS IM TYPING THIS!!! IVE ALWAYS WANTED HER TO HAVE A BIGGER PART TO PLAY AND HOLY MOLY SHE DOES! OF COURSE SHES THE BROKER! HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS?!?!?! AND IT’S HER ACTUAL ACTRESS VOICING HER TOO!!!
*ahem* Anyways… I’ll try and keep my cool.
Soyona is artsy? She’s very demure, very mindful. In all actuality, I’ve always been very interested by her character. She’s very poised an elegant, yet calm and calculating at the same time. Her and Brooklynn having a sort of “chess match of wits” which was very entertaining to watch.
Well, Camp Fam, looks like we know where Red has been all this time. I wonder if Red is Soyona’s favorite of the pack, much like Blue is to Owen.
Poor Yaz having to share a boat with Kenji and Ben while they’re arguing like an old married couple. She’s such a mood, no wonder I kin her.
Episode 6:
Poor Ben. Why is everyone having panic attacks? 😭😭😭
I think it’s interesting how Yaz, whom is the most introverted of the 6, ends up being the peacekeeper in this season. She knows when her friends are hiding something, and she’s going back and forth trying to help everyone out all at once. Her and Brooklynn are pretty similar in that regard, I’ve noticed.
Sammy’s a vegetarian? I guess it makes sense given her love of animals.
OKAY THE HIPPO VS SUCHO SCENE?!?!?! THEY LEFT YAZ?!?! Nononono I’m panicking!!! SAMMY’S FACE WHEN SHE REALIZED!!! I’m so worried, she definitely must’ve gotten a concussion from that hit.
I really wanna know if Red would have attacked Soyona during her deal with Brooklynn. Every cut in film is directed with a purpose. If they’re showing you something, it’s meant with intent. Maybe it’s a coincidence they kept cutting toward Red and having her in the limelight between them, but was the Raptor debating having Brooklynn in charge of her? Maybe Atrociraptors aren’t THAT smart, but I’m curious to know. After all, it’s implied Soyona raised them with a personal connection. If Red is similar to Blue, would she had done it had Brooklynn asked?
Episode 7:
Sammy’s 100% in distress mode. She doesn’t care if what she’s doing is level headed, she just wants to protect her girlfriend. And honestly… I could blame her. If I were in her position, I would’ve reacted the same.
I know I’m supposed to be scared of the Suchomimus and all that, but… it looked so adorable when it was curled up!!! Darn it, carnivores can be cute too!!!
I love how Darius tries his best to talk to Zayna… with Sammy sitting right behind them. Like Darius she’s hearing EVERY WORD you say my man 😭. And Zayna’s RESPONSE and EXPRESSION! “Sammy’s girlfriend is by herself surrounded by killer dinosaurs. Why would I take anything she says personally?” 😐 She is very mature for her age, honestly.
Flying Pterosaurs… ITS ALWAYS THE FLYING PTEROSAURS THAT RUIN EVERYTHING!!!
More animals coexisting was fun. Well, coexisting as in Sucho’s eat hippos for a late night snack and Lions eat Dimorphodons for dinner. I’m sure it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, of course, but I really like how this series is giving us more of dinosaurs living among other animals and humans. As stated earlier, it barely got touched on in Dominion. THIS is the type of content I’ve been waiting for!
NAH THAT SUCHO SWIMMING SCENE WAS CREEPY—-
I love how Kenji immediately embraces Yaz. She just wants to hug her girlfriend and Sammy’s standing there straight faced like “…” And Yaz saying “I really wanna hug my girl right now.” 😭😭😭😭😭 YASAMMY DESERVES THE WORLD!!!
Episode 8:
YAZ HUGGING KENJI IM ABOUT TO CRY SO MUCH Y’ALL!
Darn it, I was hoping for an Indoraptor hidden in the lab. 😞 Wouldn’t have made sense, but hey, worth a shot. But what DOES make sense is how there got to be so many dinosaurs roaming around the world once Dominion rolled around. Of course they would try and clone new ones to maximize profits. There was only so many that got released post Fallen Kingdom.
The blind Baryonyx… all I can think about is giving it a hug. Poor little one is stuck down there, more than likely because Santos figured she couldn’t sell it. I wanna adopt them. :(
NO IM NOT READY FOR THE ARGUMENT I DONT WANNA SEE IT!!!!!!
Episode 9:
Ironic how creation… kills the creator. It’s honestly sad how he manipulated the baryonyx’s genes to remove its eyesight entirely. It’s nice to see a use of echolocation, however. The movies never get it quite right imo or just don’t bring it up ever.
Okay, Soyona’s “Trust is hard to come by” line makes me think… what if The Handler could have stolen some of the raptors from her? Sure, she hired a hit out for the campers and more than likely enlisted the Handler’s help. However, both of them have a deep connection with the raptors. Maybe Red was the only one who stayed by Soyona’s side? It’s a great stretch, but it just got me thinking.
Brooklynn needs evidence to send Santos to jail, right? But… she’s out doing stuff in Dominion. So either someone bails her out of jail, OR, Brooklynn fails… which one is it?
Episode 10:
WE MADE IT! Did I spend roughly 5-6 hours binge watching this for the entire day? Maybe. Do I feel like garbage for not getting out of bed? Umm… Kinda. (I’ll try to exercise, I promise…)
I WAS SO SCARED KENJI WAS ABOUT TO PUNCH BEN! DUDE WHAT?!?!?!
I love how the villains in this franchise aren’t just treating their Dino’s like the Indominus and Indoraptor were treated. Both the scientist and Soyona ended up forming bonds with their animals. AND WHAT WAS THE THING WITH RED?! HELLO? SHE CAN LITERALLY MIMIC NOISES?!?! THIS WAS LITERALLY MY FACE DURING THAT PART NO JOKE:
ITS SO CUTE BUT HORRIFYING?!?!?! ITS LITERALLY A PARALLEL OF THE INDOMINUS GETTING THE RAPTORS TO TURN AGAINST OWEN!!! RED IS BECOMING ONE OF MY FAVORITE DINOSAURS Y’ALL, I’M FREAKING OUT!!!!
I literally do not care how unbelievable of a scenario that would be. It was freaking cool!
That one frame of the Baryonyx in the dark hallway is so creepy… My sleep paralysis demon fr.
So… let’s talk about the end… Not only do I really really need a season 3, but I just… I don’t know… The moment Kenji grabbed Brooklynn’s hand before she headed into the jet is what prompted me to cry. Yes, I did cry, don’t judge me plz. 😭 “I’m not the Brooklynn you once knew”… NO! YOU ARE!!!! I was waiting, waiting for Brooklynn to ditch Soyona and embrace her friends, leaving the show off on a note where they have to stop her and Biosyn. But… Brooklynn left them. This entire season, I was waiting for them to be with one another again… All I can think about is- where do they go from here? Brooklynn has shown she’s willing to do whatever it takes to expose this mess, even if it meant abandoning her friends… So what’s going to happen when her friends follow her? How long can she keep this up?
#jwct season 2#jwct season 2 spoilers#spoilers#major spoilers#I MEAN IT Y’ALL DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED IT YET!#PLEASE JUST SCROLL PAST#jwct#jwcc#jurassic world chaos theory#jurassic world camp cretaceous#rant#rambles#my nonsense#this post isn’t really going to make sense I don’t think#But that’s kinda the reason#I’ll make a more detailed post once more people have seen it#I will also update tags for this in a few weeks#cc rambles#cc speaks#i yapped too much#like wow#yapper alert
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the end of an era (and the start of a new one) (iv) // platonic! mercedes amg
summary: toto gives y/n the final verdict on her future with mercedes amg, and the results are better than she ever could have imagined.
pairing: platonic! mercedes amg petronas x female reader
warnings: this is actually the first installment of the series that doesn’t have any wow look at that-
author's note: here's a quick little chapter checking up on baby merc! this may seem like the end, but i promise it's not. im going to try my hardest to continue baby merc's story <3
the bowling alley was loud, and y/n had already broken a nail twice.
not that she minded, because for all she knew, this could be the last team outing that she was ever invited on. her field placement was coming to a close, and toto had never given her a final answer on where she was going next.
or if she was going anywhere at all. in a perfect world, she'd be staying with these people that she now called family. in the real world, life wasn't that simple.
but she could hope.
"george, you slimy cheating bastard!" she laughed, watching the briton score another strike. "come on, there's no way you're winning with that strong a lead."
"read it and weep, baby merc!" george laughed, taking a dramatic bow.
bowling had been lewis' idea. typically, taking the team bowling was something he did in japan. but with all the people leaving mercedes at the end of this season, he wanted to make sure they all got to be included in the team bonding ritual.
"every day you surprise me more and more." peter bonnington chuckled. "y/n, it's your go!"
"how am i supposed to match up to mr. posh spice over there?" she laughed, pointing at george before walking over to the ball machine. "i sacrificed a wonderful home manicure for this."
she bowled, taking half the pins out in one go, and all but two in the second. bowling had never been her strong suit, and normally she would have complained. but she found that her friendship with the team had grown and fostered so much that they could make even cleaning a bathroom a more enjoyable task.
she'd be really upset if she needed to let them go, that's for sure.
games finished (george had won, of course), the team sat around a big metal table (she felt like a character in a john hughes movie, but without the romantic interest. olli had texted her a few times since the holiday party, but she had continued to shoot him down), baskets of french fries, chicken tenders and a large salad for lewis in front of them.
it was bittersweet, with so many people leaving the team, and toto was the first to say so when he got up to give a speech.
"it's been a long season. the car was shit, but we made it work. we're also losing some valued members of this team. angela. nyck. james. you will forever be remembered, and know that you always have a home at mercedes if you want it."
the table started clapping as toto finished. y/n was going to miss nyck, but he'd still be around. just at a different team. she'd miss angela, but the physiotherapist would always be one phone call away if she needed her.
the three in question sat on one side of the table, teary eyed and grateful for the send-off.
"additionally, we have some new faces joining us for 2023 that i am very excited for you to meet." toto grinned. "i'd like to welcome our new reserve driver, mick schumacher."
next to y/n, mick blushed, trying to hide as the table cheererd for him, a tina turner song playing over the stereo as y/n laughed, pulling him in for a side hug.
"and, this comes as no surprise to any of us, on behalf of the mercedes amg petronas f1 team, i would like to formally offer our new intern, y/n y/l/n a permanent spot on the team for the 2023 and 2024 seasons. if you'll have us."
if the cheers for mick were loud, the cheers for y/n were louder. she was frozen, halfway to tears before she snapped out of it, lewis' hand on her shoulder as he congratulated her.
"we knew you could do it."
"thanks, lew." she beamed, giving the world champion a proper hug. "i love you guys. tahnks for letting me stay."
"don't thank us." nyck laughed. "thank toto. he's the one who made the final decision. but it was a no-brainer. you were going to stay anyways."
getting out of her chair, y/n crossed the table to throw her arms around toto wolff. the man was shocked at first, but eased into it, wrapping the younger girl in his arms.
"thank you, toto."
"welcome to the family, y/n." toto laughed. "we're lucky to have you."
and that's when she knew she found it. the family that she had always been looking for.
and she knew that she was going to be okay. for real, this time.
because true family are the friends that you make along the way.
#family are the friends we meet along the way series#mercedes amg petronas#mercedes x reader#george russell x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#toto wolff x reader#formula one x reader#mini fic
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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃
𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆
dedicated to @nashikahan for suggesting the idea ❤️
relationships are important of course, no matter if it's a friendship or romantic or work-related or otherwise, but one of the greatest and most important types of love is the love we receive from ourselves.
i've said this before (a very long time ago), but in general, when most people are interested in tarot, they tend to ask about and lean towards content that speaks about the future (ex. future spouse, next 5 years, next career endeavor, etc), but i’ve realized that falling into that trap of future readings can be harmful if it’s all one ever thinks about.
thinking about the future is great of course, and it’s fun and sometimes comforting to think about the future and what successes and highs one might claim, but too much focus on the future makes it hard for one to focus on the present.
you can’t ever reach that future if you’re so wrapped in the fantasy of it that you forget to bring yourself to the present and work on whatever is needed in order to get there.
therefore, this PAC is not about the future. it's about the now. it's about what you need to hear right now in order to find comfort and love for yourself the way you need it.
the piles go from top left to right. so, "you are exactly where you are meant to be" is pile i, "be kind to your mind" is pile ii, and so on and so forth.
take the time to close your eyes, breathe, and meditate on the PAC prompt, then open your eyes and let your guides lead you to the pile for you.
i hope you enjoy and learn to love yourself the way you deserve to be loved 💖
(TW: slight s*icidal mention in pile vi)
𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈
Shufflemancy:
"Rover and Benz" by Aint Afraid
"Blazed" by Ariana Grande
"Lose" by Wonho
Reading:
i think this is my creative pile :)
life is always moving and as hard as it is for you to be okay with it you always find a way to get on the right footing despite there seemingly not being a reason to.
are you a dancer? or at least, do you wanna be? if so, don't deny yourself that art form. i can tell you pour your heart and soul into it. i think it's where you tell the story of your pain. please, continue to use it to continue to be the strong person you are.
you're a fighter and a creative. i don't know a better combo than that to be honest. i don't think you hear this often enough, or you doubt people when you do hear it -- your art form is enough. as a matter of fact, it's more than enough. it's exactly what's needed for the Earth right now and for years to come.
the card i pulled literally says, "SHARE YOUR VOICE" in all caps like that and everything. your mind, your voice, your creativity, your dance, your art is valid. even if self-critique is necessary, also remember that you've come a long way from your very first piece to right now.
the other card i pulled says, "YOUR LIFE IS A CANVAS". continue to use it as such. continue to foster your art. it's beautiful. every ounce of love you put into it can be seen. it's so obvious that art (in whatever form) is of and in you.
love it.
especially your own.
love your own work.
(i promise that it's good enough).
𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈
Shufflemancy:
"Donald Trump" by Mac Miller
"Run The World (Girls)" by Beyonce
"The Vapors" by Jhene Aiko
Reading:
know that you have a reason to be cocky!
i can tell that you're a hard-worker. every action you take is calculated and in an effort to reach the "promised land" of what you want. what you've always dreamed of. although recently (and maybe just in general) you may feel as if this uphill climb feels harder than ever.
the card i pulled says, "it's happening for you. not to you". i think those words may be of help to you right now. sometimes you may feel like God has put you up against these seemingly unwinable battles, but they are winnable. you're the one that can win them.
although you put in the work and action behind all of your wants, i think you mainly need to hear that you're not alone. you are being supported.
more than anything, i think you need to focus on healing yourself before going any further. specifically, go outside. breathe in the cold air and let it hurt your lungs. let the humidity frizz out your hair. listen to the waves as the crash violently or splash little by little.
i think you already know that you're strong, but also know that it's okay to rest.
it's necessary to rest.
please, allow yourself to do so.
𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈
Shufflemancy:
"Songs About You" by Chika
"Fool For You" by CeeLo Green
"Silent Cry" by Stray Kids
Reading:
there's a calling for you to do something, and you're avoiding it.
now babe.. you know better than to do that!
you feel like logic isn't aligning for you to be able to do it, or you doubt your own abilities, don't you? yeah.. you gotta stop doing that like immediately.
that dream or urge you have that feels so integral to your person and so primal to you in terms of needs is something you can totally achieve, but you have to believe in yourself. pay homage to yourself.
you are unique and honestly, your alignment is not of this world. that's why it feels as if the logic is off because they logic you've been conditioned to follow is not the one you should be following.
listen to yourself. listen to your body. trust that you will end up at the right ending because you're the one who knows how to best lead yourself. the cards i pulled say, "trust where you're led" and "surrender to the alchemy of life". i think that's important for you.
the most important thing i can say is that you control your destiny, and know that there's a path for you that so beautifully laid out, and you naturally lead yourself there.
you are worthy of your own trust.
you know exactly what you're doing -- even if it doesn't feel like it.
𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕
Shufflemancy:
"Sorry Not Sorry" by Bryson Tiller
"in my head" by Ariana Grande
"I'm The One" by Ateez
Reading:
you allow people to walk over you too much :(
is it because you don't think you're good enough? do you think you're not worthy of respect? YOU ARE!
maybe you don't fit society's standard of things. education, beauty, intelligence, material posessions? to be honest, it doesn't matter because you are so much more than that. who you are inside and who you try to be is so much more valuable than any of society's standards.
you don't have to take on everyone's burdens in order to be of use. you don't have to break your own boundaries and beat yourself down in order to receive basic respect.
your unique knowledge -- your unconventional knowledge- is so special to you! it's such a unique trait that gives you a different way of thinking and experiencing than others. use these differences to uplift yourself!
so what you're different? so what you don't blend in with everyone else? THAT'S THE ENTIRE POINT OF BEING UNIQUE AND BEING DIFFERENT!
fitting society's standards isn't helpful to yourself or the collective.
embrace your differences. they are valuable.
𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕
Shufflemancy:
"Alone" by Ayanna
"Motivation" by Normani
"Do It Like A Dude" by Jessie J
Reading:
the people who chose this pile are changing! transtitions and transformations are in progress or on the way, and you feel unprepared for them. that's okay!
you keep holding on to old habits and old ways of thinking, but you need to trust yourself and the universe. the card i pulled literally says, "YES. just say yes". the other one says, "you go first. the universe will catch you".
your old ways of thinking and being don't work anymore because they're too mundane. your ability and your intrinsic nature is so much broader! so much bigger!
your personality and energy is so intoxicating to others. i wish you could see yourself through outsiders eyes. if you felt drawn to pile ii, then go ahead and read it. i think the message there also applies to you.
know that you are so much bigger than the little problems and intrusive thoughts that hold you back. for every pessimistic thought that goes through, write down a positive one.
also, learn to praise yourself. you deserve praise.
you are doing well.
𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐈
Shufflemancy:
"Cuz I Love You" by Lizzo
"Without You" by Ledsi
"Practice" by Drake
"breathin" by Ariana Grande
Reading:
i think you're tired, just like the photo says.
you may feel like you don't wanna be here anymore. not even in a s*icidal way, but more so in a wanting to be away from your environment -- from Earth -- just for a little bit if it were possible.
the people who chose this pile a very likely starseeds. you miss home. you miss being around likeminded people, and more than anything you miss feeling as if you belonged.
you have so much love you want to give to others, but it's like people don't want it. like they follow the saying of "you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make them drink it".
i think you may be tired of hearing this, but you are here for a reason. more than anything you just want the backpack of rocks that lies on your shoulder to be lightened -- even if just by one stone. you're tired of hearing that you're strong and that you can handle it because if you feel that backpack get loaded with one more stone, then you;ll explode.
you don't have to be strong all the time.
it's okay to cry.
please cry.
you are human too.
you have emotions too.
it's valid and okay to feel them.
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Can’t Keep Going Like This
Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader. Summary: After another argument, you and Joel finally iron some things out. Warnings: Some angst, but it’s mostly fluff. Note: This was originally a scene I ended up scrapping from my longer fic, but I figured with some editing it could be a fun stand-alone. So, here it is. lol Tag list (My Joel fics in general. To be added just leave me a comment saying so!): @faceache111
The streets of Jackson were quiet at this time of night.
You could hear the odd distant voices or hum of a generator, but otherwise it just seemed that the only other sound was your footsteps. The string of lights above your head that lit up the otherwise dark street added to the peaceful feel of the place–it had been enough when you had first arrived to almost make you forget what the rest of the world outside was like. There were little reminders, moments where you knew things were very different from the world you had left over a decade ago, yet you felt safe. Inside the gates, that is.
All of those facts combined, however, didn’t leave you feeling all that content the current night. You wandered through the darkening town, hands in your pockets with your shoulders slumped. Exhaustion from the day weighed heavily on you, yet the embarrassment of what happened hours ago sat heavily on you.
Having arguments with Joel, even outright fights, wasn’t exactly uncommon. He was stubborn, closed-off, and even frustrating to deal with at points. Yet, it had felt like you had progressed beyond the hostilities a while ago, and there was…something. You didn’t know what. You had been quick to label it as a friendship a while ago, but there was a certain pull in you that wanted more than that. Sometimes it felt like that notion was returned, but neither of you wanted to actually push over that line.
Then there were nights like this. Anger, frustration. You wanted to believe that things were just said in the heat of the moment, but it was hard to tell sometimes.
Usually, things like that happened without the added eyes on you. That was what made the night different from others, and the reason that you had stormed off before Joel could have the last word and do the same. It was juvenile, giving into the childish need to shout and insult. Yet, the reality of the moment had been quick to sink in shortly after that line was crossed, and you gave into the urge to just get out of there. Fortunately, Joel let you leave without following out after you. Though, you imagined it probably took some restraint.
You were just…tired of this. The uncertainty, the pull and push of someone who didn’t know what he wanted. Yet…well, you knew it was unfair to put it all on Joel. You didn’t really know exactly what you wanted, either. There had been many nights where you had time to think about your relationship with him–to overthink and overlook things, too. If you were reading into things too much, or maybe you were missing a signal or something. You didn’t know.
Could just ask.
It really couldn’t be that simple, could it? You knew you hadn’t exactly been completely open about everything, to ask some hard and embarrassing questions. You had certainly asked a few hard questions throughout the time you had been with him–digging into his past, into yours. Yet, this was something you kept locked away behind your teeth. It was something to chew on, but you could never just spit the words out.
Maybe you just should.
With an exhale, you stopped as you knew you were presented with a choice. You could just head back to the place you were staying at, leaving the whole situation behind. Maybe you’d try distancing yourself–there were a lot of people in Jackson, a lot of things to do. It wouldn’t be hard to just foster some space from him, shift out a couple patrols and just…avoid.
Or, you could turn and head toward where you knew he and Ellie were staying. The last you had seen her, Ellie seemed interested in spending some time with some friends she was making and you knew she probably wouldn’t walk in on whatever conversation you’d have with Joel. At least, you would have to hope so. Still, it was an opportunity to just lay everything on the table, ask the questions you’ve been wanting to and just get a damn answer. Whatever it was, you would deal with it. It had to be better than just not knowing and not knowing how to proceed.
With another sigh, you shook your head lightly. The better choice was clear.
Gathering some courage, you turned and headed toward the house. You weren’t sure how he’d greet you when you showed up, but you were sick of things. There had been enough tension and butting heads, you figured you were owed a bit of an honest conversation that wasn’t close to a fully public argument. Still, you hadn’t been in a position like this in a long time–to have to put your heart out in front of someone and let them react to it in whatever way they needed to. It left you with a nervous twist in your gut, despite the determination. It was something that needed to be done, as much as you wished things like this could happen without you having to go about it like this.
The lights of the house were still on, which spurred you to approach his front door. Yet, you couldn’t help the hesitation when you lifted your hand to knock. With a quick exhale, you finally knocked a few times on the door and backed away, tucking your hands back into the pockets of your jacket.
In the moments after, a part of you born of anxiety and some sort of wounded pride, just wanted to bolt. Yet, you knew that was counterproductive and childish too. Upon hearing the dull thuds of him approaching the door, you knew the time for that had passed anyway.
Despite the anger that you both had left with, you were surprised to just see some mild surprise under the tightness of his expression once Joel had opened the door.
“Can I come in?” you asked around a small exhale, sounding more tired than you were expecting too.
“Yeah,” Joel replied shortly, stepping aside to let you slip by him before he shut the door behind you.
Jackson had a number of homes with old furniture in them–some sense of communal living, you supposed, though it seemed like Joel and Ellie had their own place unlike yourself. It wasn’t your first time inside the home, though never in such an awkward situation. Still, you moved around with some familiarity, trying to piece together what you wanted to say. You knew what you needed to say, just not exactly sure how to form the words.
So, it had your arms crossing, coming to a stop in the living room before you turned toward him again.
“Look…” you started around another small sigh, “I didn’t come here to continue to argue with you, but I shouldn’t have run off. That’s not how I handle conflicts, but…I just don’t understand what’s going on here. With us.”
“With us?” Joel asked, his expression tight, a little unreadable, but you could see the way his shoulders had slumped. It was a good sign, at least.
“Yeah, I…” you trailed off, dropping your arms to your sides as you let out a somewhat humorless huff, “I mean, you have to know that I’m interested in you after all this time. At least, I hope it won’t come as a surprise.”
Joel stared at you, taking you in for a few moments before he ran a hand over his mouth, nodding lightly. “It’s not.”
“I just…” you said, bowing your head for a few moments as you pressed your lips into a thin line to hold back the rush of emotion that sat in you. “I haven’t had a group in a long time. People I can trust–people I can genuinely say I care about and who…who care for me. Yet…I honestly don’t know what I’m going to get from you, Joel. Some days it feels like I really get to know you, that things are good and are progressing toward…something, and then you push me away so harshly and I’m just…left completely confused.”
Despite the situation, you could tell there was a bit of a weight lifted off of you at that moment. Finally, you said something about the trend in your relationship with him that you noticed. Still, you knew the conversation was far from over, you weren’t getting the icey dismissal that you had gotten earlier and you figured it was a chance to actually address this situation.
“Am I overthinking things?” you asked, “Seeing things that aren’t actually there? I just want an answer, even if it hurts me.”
“You’re not,” Joel replied simply after your questions lingered in the space between you both, “It’s me. I don’t know what I’m doin’. I’m not a good person, you know this, and I think you’d do a lot better with someone else. That’s why I shove you away when I catch myself thinking differently.”
“I can make my own choices, can’t I?” you asked, tilting your head.
“Yeah, it’s just…”
“I know what you mean,” you clarified, stepping a little closer to him, “I just haven’t really been thinking in the same way. Maybe in the beginning, when I didn’t really know you, but…being here with you and Ellie…I finally feel like maybe I can stay somewhere. With people I trust. I’ll–I’ll accept if you reject me, but being pulled back and forth like I have been is not good for me.”
“I wouldn’t have to keep pushing you away if I could actually reject you,” Joel said with almost a touch of humor in his tone, but you could tell it was a little bitter too. Some previous frustration, maybe? It’d make sense, considering how much you had been dealing with. “I thought you would get sick of me and leave, just make it easier. I guess this is the result I was waiting for, just…it’s a hell of a lot different than I was thinking.”
“I thought about it sometimes,” you admitted, “and I will if it continues. I accept that you can be a thorny asshole sometimes, but I can’t keep letting that happen.”
“Didn’t feel good doing that,” Joel said, “I’m sorry. For tonight, too.”
Throughout the last minute of your conversation, you noticed a shift in him. The familiar wall you had seen him put up time and time again was lowering, as you had seen it do from time to time. On uneventful patrols when moods were high, when you would sit in with him and Ellie when they’d pass a guitar back and forth. The side of him that Ellie poked you about when she’d catch the both of you one-on-one. You knew there was a lot of territory you both had to navigate about each other, but the idea that you wouldn’t have to deal with that being shut off from you again was enough to make you feel like you had made the right choice.
“You want to be with me?” you asked after a few moments, stepping closer to him and watching his expression carefully. While a part of you knew with what he admitted so far that feeling as nervous as you were was ridiculous, but you couldn’t help the way your heart was racing.
“If you’ll have me,” he replied with a small nod. You nodded, struggling to fight back the grin that appeared on your features at the relief that flooded into you.
Which was what had you accepting his hand cupping your cheek, his mouth pressing against yours.
It didn’t take you long to respond to the kiss, despite the small shock it gave you when it fully registered. It was firm at first, a message sent and received, but it shifted more into something natural after a few moments. You wrapped your arms around him as Joel pulled you in closer, nearly brushing your body against his. His beard lightly scratched against you as he deepened the kiss, but you didn’t particularly care as you moved a hand up into his hair.
You were taken a little off guard by how much a part of you had been craving this type of closeness with him. You were attracted to him, had wanted to impress him at first and then just wanted to be closer once you could consider him a friend. A part of you could understand his reluctance, you had played a similar game of tug-of-war with yourself about your developing feelings for him. So, to be in his arms currently like you were was something else. The relief was almost intoxicating, making you almost reluctant to pull back, even with a lightheadedness from the lack of air forced you to.
Finally, you parted from the kiss somewhat, but didn’t really separate. You found yourself resting your head against his shoulder as you tightened your arms around him in an embrace. Joel wrapped his arms around you in return, your hands tightening into the fabric of his shirt in return as if telling yourself that this really was happening.
“I forgive you,” you muttered into his shoulder, “I know it’s not easy for you.”
“I’m still sorry,” he said, voice low and right above your ear before you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head.
You shut your eyes, soaking in the moment for as long as you could. You knew Ellie would be back soon, and you didn’t know how she’d react to the sight before her. Yet, you also suspected that she might not be completely surprised either, but it was hard to say with her.
One thing you knew was that you finally felt like you could be at home with them, in Jackson, instead of being separate and alone for the first time in years.
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How Finding the Right Writing Community Can Support You as a Writer
Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Novlr, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is the world’s first writer-owned creative writing platform, built by writers, for writers. Today, professional writer and Novlr Community Lead Pamela Koehne-Drube shares some of the benefits a writing community can provide:
I’ve been a storyteller since I first learned to speak and a writer since I first held a pen. The writing journey is an emotional roller coaster, and no single day is ever the same.
There are moments of delight, like when a scene I’ve struggled with finally comes together, or the satisfaction of building a character who comes to life on the page. There’s the sense of accomplishment when my first draft is finished and I get to read my completed story, and the nerves of putting those same words in front of readers for the very first time.
There are lots of silent rooms, the soft tapping of keys, or the scribble of a pen. Sometimes the isolation gets too much, and that’s when I grapple with writer’s block, wrestle with stubborn plot holes, or have to slog through edits I’m just not in the mood for.
In my years as a working writer, the most important thing I’ve learned is that while only I can do the writing, I don’t have to go on the journey alone. A writing community can make all the difference in keeping me motivated.
What is a writing community?
Writing communities are as diverse as the writers who are part of them. Every writer will have a different need from their community, but what they do share is giving writers the opportunity to interact, share knowledge, and provide mutual support.
Some communities come ready-made. NaNoWriMo is a prime example, where diverse writers all rally together to achieve a common goal and support each other along the way. It has been one of my biggest encouragements over the years. And at Novlr, we’ve built an entire writing workspace around the idea of community, not only offering a virtual space for writers to come together and share their wins, struggles, ideas, and techniques but also giving our writer-owners a real say and influence in how our platform grows and develops.
Why are writing communities important?
Writing communities are a lifeline for many of us, offering a nurturing environment where we can learn, grow, and find kinship. Whether it's seeking feedback, gaining inspiration, or just breaking the isolation often associated with writing, they play an invaluable role in any writer's journey.
Encouragement
Sometimes, as a writer, all you need is someone telling you you’re doing a good job. Positive affirmations and encouragement can make all the difference, not only to your confidence but also to motivate you to stick with it. Being able to share ideas, troubleshoot plot holes, and celebrate even the small victories with people who get it is the perfect motivation.
Accountability
Being part of a writing community that openly shares its goals and commitments is a surefire way to motivate you to follow through. Again, NaNoWriMo is a perfect example of this; announcing your intention to the world and to the wider NaNo community makes your 50,000-word draft more than just an idea you have. It makes it real.
This accountability works for smaller goals too. Just sharing them with people makes them a tangible thing to work toward, keeping you accountable and on track to achieve your writing goals.
Become a better writer
Writing groups offer the perfect opportunity to get real-time feedback on your work and expose yourself to diverse and unique perspectives from fellow writers. Not only can they learn from you and your experiences, but you can learn from theirs by championing supportive and constructive criticism.
Rediscover the joy of writing!
There’s something truly special about the collective joy and camaraderie of sharing your writing journey. Writing groups help foster friendships where you can celebrate your shared successes. The challenges of writing become less daunting and more like puzzles to be solved together, and if you involve group activities, like writing prompts or collaborative projects, the process of writing becomes much more vibrant and enjoyable.
What types of writing communities are there?
Writing events
Writing events foster writing communities where each member shares a single goal or focus. NaNoWriMo is, of course, the biggest and most well-known goal-focused event in the creative writing space. I have lifelong writing pals I’ve met over NaNoWriMo, and we still regularly get together for critiques. Last year, I even did a 24-hour novel challenge where we took the NaNo goal of 50,000 words but tried to fit it into a single 24-hour period. It was one of the toughest writing challenges I’ve ever done, but the community that came from it is amazing.
Similarly, online communities, like our Discord, that host regular writing sprints, often attract goal-focused individuals who enjoy the thrill of time-bound writing challenges.
In-person writing groups
In-person writing groups meet at a dedicated time and place, like a local coffee shop, library, or someone's home. I host a writing group at my local pub on one of their quieter afternoons, and there’s a handful of us who get together, exchange ideas, play writing games, provide real-time feedback, and just generally share our work in the spirit of improving our craft.
The value of personal contact can't be underestimated, as it does allow for more nuanced discussions about works in progress and provides a structure that many writers, myself included, find beneficial.
Critique groups
Critique groups, as the name suggests, focus primarily on providing constructive feedback on members' work. These groups are all about sharing drafts and receiving detailed criticism about your writing — anything from accuracy to style and accessibility.
Peer critiques can offer a variety of perspectives on your writing. It’s a great way to find plot holes, character inconsistencies, or stylistic improvements that you might have overlooked early on. Furthermore, by critiquing others' work, you learn to sharpen your own editing skills and gain fresh insights into the writing process.
Writing retreats
Writing retreats are designed to provide writers with a break from their everyday environment and immerse them in a space dedicated to their writing. These retreats can range from weekend getaways to month-long residencies and are often situated in inspiring locations, from country houses to beachfront cabins.
The tranquil and focused atmosphere of a retreat is designed to spark creativity and reduce distractions, allowing writers to concentrate solely on their craft.
Online writing communities
Not everyone lives near other writers or is comfortable seeking out strangers in person. Online writing communities offer a digital space for writers to interact and learn from each other, extending the possibility of collaboration regardless of geographical location.
Platforms like Reddit, Discord, and the NaNoWriMo forums are popular for hosting vibrant writing communities, providing a dynamically interactive space that keeps writers connected, inspired, and motivated in their writing journey, even if they can’t be with other writers in person.
Social media
Social media channels offer various ways for writers to connect, exchange ideas, and foster communities. On Twitter and Tumblr, writers can follow trending hashtags like #writingcommunity, #amwriting, #writeblr, #writingtips, or #NaNoWriMo to engage in conversations, share inspiration, or get advice. TikTok has also recently emerged as another hub for writers, with the #BookTok and #WritingTok trends really taking off.
To sum up
Writing communities come in many forms and serve different purposes, but each offers unique benefits to support and enrich your writing journey. They provide the encouragement, accountability, feedback, and camaraderie needed to navigate the often solitary path of writing. It may be your journey, but you don’t have to take it alone.
As you seek to join or create a writing community, consider what you want from the experience and explore various options that align with your needs, preferences, and schedule. Remember, writing doesn't have to be a lonely endeavour. In the company of fellow writers, the journey becomes a shared experience, making the process less daunting and far more rewarding. Happy writing!
Novlr is free to use. However, for those who need the extra bits, there’s a 40% discount on Novlr Pro for 12 months for NaNoWriMo writers. Simply add the NANO23 coupon code when subscribing at Novlr.org. Offer expires December 31st, 2023.
Pamela Koehne-Drube is all about building creative writing communities where imagination thrives and writers achieve their goals. As a professional ghostwriter and editor, Pamela has first-hand experience in the book trade, from supporting fledgeling writers all the way through to working with the Big Five publishers. She’s an expert on all things writing. In her role as Writer Development & Community Lead at Novlr, you'll find her organising challenges and chatting about writing in Novlr’s Discord and building a repository of amazing writing, editing, publishing, and marketing resources for the Reading Room.
Top photo by Hannah Busing on Unsplash.
#nanowrimo#writing#writing community#community#writing advice#by nano sponsor#novlr#pamela koehne-drube
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