#but that doesn’t mean that i don’t find him INTERESTING

[solis-solaire]

THIS EXACTLY.

Not to mention that the desire to not get married doesn’t reflect the desire to not date at all. It ofc CAN mean that too (love yall who hc aroace Miles <3), but if we’re taking this from a shipping perspective, these statements only mean that Edgeworth doesn’t want to get MARRIED. Marriage is a big step in a lot of romantic relationships, and it’s not something people always want to do.

Besides, I think it’s an interesting little tidbit when read as “I don’t want to get married, but I still want to love”. Maybe Edgeworth doesn’t want to associate his personal life with any sort of legal jargon, as all of his life has been law. Maybe he wants his devotion to remain outside of law as to not cross wires between his profession and his personal life. Since he was previously (and still sort of is) a HUGE workaholic, maybe his goal is that when he DOES find a lover, he wants to separate the two in order to spend time with the person. Because he WANTS TO, not because they’re legally bound. I think it’s interesting to think of his thought process as “I don’t want to get married because then I’ll feel pressured to be a husband, because legal stuff is important to me.”

I don’t know if this makes sense, I’m just ill for him

So, I just assumed all of Edgeworth's:

"I've no intention of getting married, marriage doesn't interest me, ugh get it out of my face", "when you get marrie ..." "*desk slam* Which I won't!", "What's wrong with remaining unwed?!" business in 'Turnabout Time Traveller'

translates as:

"Japan doesn't have same-sex marriage, I am gay, ffs Your Honor do I have to spell it out, don't make me say it, how are you all so oblivious, don't you know what a confirmed bachelor is? Leave me alone, grrrr!!"

Didn't everyone?

[mm-lurking]

Malfunction: Heart Mode - Boothill

Based on this post. fem reader. Praying this is not ooc. Writing is kinda choppy, I tried my best. 1.6k words. tag: @nvuy hope you like it -- Boothill is one strong muddle-fudger. He does not give a rat's behind when it comes to romantic love, affection, and all that fudging nonsense. Even if it has crossed his mind, he's too busy dealing with the forking problems of the cosmos and most importantly trying to find that son of a nice lady who is responsible for killing his sweet angel and destroying his planet.

Yet here he is, standing in front of you at the bar with a drink in his hand as he hears his machine heart starting to whir. You both were regulars at the bar and often ran into each other from time to time. Your encounters were akin to something like being seatmates; there was enough information exchanged to know about each other yet it was nothing personal. While you didn't quite understand why he would disappear for long periods before returning like nothing happened, you never questioned it and were simply happy to see him again.

He too liked meeting up with you. He couldn't help but flash his razor-sharp teeth whenever he saw you; calling you “partner!” out loud before greeting you and asking how you had been. The little interactions you both had were always a pleasure and as time passed, he seemed to grow more attached to seeing you.

Today was a little different. Compared to your usual outfit, you were dressed up all fancy and the more he looked at you, the louder the whirring of his heart got.

"Fudge."

He mutters under his breath. You look at him inquisitively as he turns his head sideways and sighs.

"Something the matter Boothill?" "It's nothing partner."

You watch as he chugs down his glass and sets the empty vessel down on the bar counter before ordering more.

"I haven't even finished my first drink yet and you're already done?"

You laugh a little as you take a sip of your drink. The dim lights of the bar made your jewellery glow and alongside the reflections of other shiny things, you looked heavenly in his eyes. He doesn’t answer so you look over and find him dazed.

"Boothill...? Um, do you need some space?" "Fudge!"

He can't help but say it out loud this time, covering his face as he scrunches his eyebrows and frowns. This was not how he normally behaved. What in the hot diggity fudge was going on with him?

"Yes- I mean no, ugh fork me!"

You stand there confused (and slightly amused) at how he seems to be fighting himself like a madman. He almost looked possessed from how he kept going back and forth with himself as if he was surprised at what he was saying. Like his tongue wasn't his own.

"I'll give you some space."

The last thing you wanted was for him to hurt himself or those around him. You finally decide to leave just to make sure everything's alright only for him to grab your arm and then quickly let go in shock.

"Sorry 'bout that partner.”

Boothill awkwardly apologises for his unusual behaviour. Before you can reply, a drunk accidentally pushes you from behind and you lose your balance causing you to fall straight into his arms.

“I-!?” “Um…?!”

Both of you are speechless. He swiftly holds your waist with one hand while the other firmly holds onto malt juice. Your hands are tightly gripping his shoulders from the fear of falling. No coherent thought is spoken but the flustered look on your faces has got some of the bar regulars around you giggling.

You don’t even hear the apology of the one who accidentally pushed you. It's as if time has slowed down and nothing exists outside you both. Strangely, he doesn’t let you go and you don’t move either making things even more awkward.

The strong alcohol you were sipping on makes you tipsy and somehow gives you the courage to lift your head and gaze into Boothill's unique eyes. You've always admired how dashing he looks; from his physique to his dressing style and even his interesting way of speaking. And now here you were up close, staring disrespectfully at his face and how handsome he looked.

Boothill is no different either, he's gazing at you hesitantly as he tries to find something to say but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is-

“Fudge me…” “I'm sure the ladies at the ranch think about that regularly.”

You mumble without thinking and he tenses up.

���I- what?!”

He stutters as his cheeks turn slightly red and his eyes widen.

“Uh?! Nothing!”

You mentally slap yourself for blurting that out loud. Even if it was true, why did you have to say it and make things awkward? Come on! You both were having a somewhat endearingly awkward time together! 

You attempt to conjure up something to smooth things over but your thinking is disrupted by a strangely loud machine sound that seems to be coming from nearby. The whoosh is accompanied by irregular beeping sounds, almost like one of those technology things Boothill had told you about. 

You glance around to see if you can find the source only to realise-

It’s coming from Boothill.

“Oh.” You whisper under your breath but the cyborg (who still doesn't let you go nor drinks his beverage and is as still as a statue for some reason) hears you loud and clear.

“Something the matter, pretty lady?” “Yes. Do you plan on us staying in this position until the bar closes?”

Instead of answering his question, you deflect it with another. He turns red again and stammers badly which makes you giggle and further confirms your theory.

“Gotcha.”

Before Boothill can ask what you’re doing, you slowly drag your hands down his shoulders until they rest on his chest. You feel the rapid whirring of his heart through the vibrations it emits through your fingertips. A tiny smirk spreads on your face and you look back at him.

“You’re pretty cute.”

You flirtatiously speak. The look of confusion and embarrassment on his face makes you laugh harder.

“What- hey what- I-”

Boothill’s stammering only gets worse alongside the overheating of his heart. He tries to reply with a snarky comment but the only thing he’s capable of doing is squeezing your waist harder and propping himself up with the bar counter to avoid falling. You, being the woman you are, do not stop the teasing.

“You can’t handle affection, can you? Look at you sweet thing, your heart is overworking and your synesthesia beacon has already overheated.” “Shut…” “I barely said anything and you’re malfunctioning already? How amusing.” “Son of a nice lady…” “I am indeed the daughter of a nice lady.”

“You-!”

He is bewildered at your unexpected behaviour but that painfully obvious blush on his cheek tells you he's not mad about it.

“Oh dear,” you chuckle and pry yourself off his metal chest, “I should stop or else your…eccentric friends…will hold me responsible for any severe malfunctions.”

This was enough teasing from you today. If it were up to you, you would go on and on but you feared any dire consequences that would affect Boothill. You lift and steady yourself up nonchalantly as if you just didn't cause the ranger to nearly pass out from your shenanigans.

Despite the cold metal exterior, he feels the loss of warmth from you moving your body away. His hand slowly retracts from your waist but lingers as if he hesitates to let go. The overheating of his system rapidly starts to decrease, however, he is unable to calm his emotions down completely. He turns his attention away from his mechanical heart and gazes at you curiously while you fix your wrinkled dress.

“You are one hell of a woman.”

A long sigh leaves his mouth as he speaks as if still processing your chaos. A sly smile appears on your face when you (finally) hear him speak properly.

“Took you a while to get talking didn't it mister?”

That grin on your face screams ‘this wasn’t even my best attempt’ but he shrugs it off. He unknowingly takes a step closer to you as if wanting your presence as close to him as possible. The (welcomed) intrusion into your personal space causes you to sharply inhale. He simply places his hand over the rim of your filled glass and whispers gently.

“You think I'd let any lady come close like that?”

Your mouth practically foams as you try to formulate a response. Eventhough you're not looking him, you can feel his gaze on you which makes you nervous.

“I'll tell you something sweetheart. I've got some fudging business to attend to in a bit but the next time we meet, I'll finish what you started.”

His voice is low and rumbly as he subtly warns you of the consequences of your actions. He follows it with a tight squeeze of your hand and then steps away from you. Your mind protests his leave but you're too stunned to speak; had you put yourself on his wanted list now? 

There is a devilish smile on his face as he checks his gun and locks it before walking away with it casually. Next time, he'd show you what a cowboy is capable of.

Hey, at least you were living out the dreams of those ranch ladies. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[miscellaneouzz]

More Vox Machina meta time bc I feel like people do NOT talk enough about how complex Pike and Scanlan’s relationship is. First off the show is very good at steering away from the typical he’s-annoying-so-she-eventually-gives-in misogynistic approach a lot of those types of dynamics have. Like it initially comes off as just cute and flirtatious until their dynamic ironically becomes the least romantically driven of the main ships in a way that’s far more layered than I expected. It always feels like Pike’s complicated feelings come with observing Scanlan from a distance, she’ll flirt back and play along but ultimately wants to see the person he COULD be, the more sincere and earnest side to him (which can also be tied to Zerxus’ comment about her taking pride in “redeeming” her friends).

But then from Scanlan’s perspective, becoming the person he “could” be means distancing himself from Pike completely, because he’s in love with her and in his mind he sees that as an example of him clinging to his old habits of “finding all the wrong ways” to fill his emptiness. His scene with her on the balcony felt like such a culmination of both their complicated feelings– him relying on those coping mechanisms and Pike recognizing that– and I think that’s part of why he cried and why Pike pulled away at the last second. After that scene, we pretty much see Scanlan stop pursuing romantic interest in Pike for the rest of the season, but she’s still the only person he’ll be vulnerable with.

So then comes this heartbreaking irony that Pike’s been wanting more sincerity from Scanlan for a while now, only for Scanlan finally opening up more about his feelings to include him saying things that end up hurting and pushing away Pike. Because now Scanlan being more vulnerable and sincere means finally admitting he doesn’t view Vox Machina as his “real” family and that he never thought he mattered when he was with them and I don’t think that’s something Pike was truly ready for. And in the end Scanlan is still defining his worth purely on his relationships with others– if he’s no longer pouring his identity into romance/sex, he’s gotta pour it all into his newfound parenthood. He’s still flawed and not in a way where everything just hinges on Pike to “fix” him.

I think when it comes to the romantic relationships in the series it’s the one I’m most invested in from a character perspective. They’re the only pairing that’s yet to sincerely confess or discuss feelings for each other despite how much their relationship focuses on the need for sincerity and it’s so interesting. Like through the relationship struggles of Keyleth x Vax and Percy x Vex, we still see them be more open and upfront with both the conflicts and resolutions of their feelings for each other.

Pike & Scanlan are the only ship we’ve seen neither for, neither a straightforward conversation on the conflict of their relationship itself nor a sincere resolution to their feelings. And I think it has a lot to do with the parallel you can make about their own crisis of identity. Their character motivations and struggles with identity are not entirely dependent on each other as Scanlan has a tumultuous relationship with parenthood and Pike with her faith yet they impact each other so deeply.

There’s a lot more to say BUT for now… onto whatever season 4 brings for the gnomes!

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[8:09 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

The car rumbled down the street, a cold silence filled the car. You started out the passenger window while husband!Renjun looked at you from the corner of his eye.

It had been a rough afternoon for the two of you. Renjun failed to tell you about a huge gala he had for work that night even though you had already both agreed to celebrate your wedding anniversary tonight. Your anniversary celebration that had already rescheduled since Renjun would be out of town. You knew this wasn’t his fault exactly, he couldn’t control when he had to leave for work but the idea of spending your first wedding anniversary alone didn’t feel nice.

The gala though, that was his fault entirely. He swore he told you but there were no texts, emails, and nothing in the calendar you both kept up to date. Not to mention that he had told you it was black tie with only 3 hours until he had to be there.

You had wasted half an hour of that time arguing, another hour and a half getting ready and the last hour walking around department stores and boutiques looking for a dress that fit the dress code. And Renjun had been a major pain in your ass the entire time!

He would excitedly tell you found something and when you turned he would be holding a bright, gaudy dress with entirely too many ruffles. He did that countless times and each time you fell for it. You were already annoyed that he had waited until the last second, annoyed that the reservations you had planned were now useless, and annoyed that you had to spend your honorary wedding anniversary shmoozing Renjun’s coworkers.

He tried to make you laugh, tried to compliment you, talk to you like everything was ok but you wouldn’t budge! He sighed, fingers tapping at the steering wheel nervously, “you really do look beautiful. That dress fits you perfectly.”

You huffed like a grumpy child, “no, it doesn’t. It’s too long and the chest is too big.”

“Well, I can’t tell, you look gorgeous.”

“Another thing you don’t pay attention to,” you murmur under your breath.

Renjun sighs, pulling into the front of the venue and sliding out of the car to give the keys to the valet. The valet gets to your door before he can, but he can feel his nerves calm when you hook your arm through his. He tried to help you fix the skirt of your dress but you swatted his hands away.

He groaned under his breath, fine, if you wanted to be petty, he could be even more petty. He knew he messed up, but geez woman! How many time were you going to make him apologize?!

He straightened out his bow tie and entered the venue with you on his arm. He smiled at one of his bosses and walked over, “Mr. Lim! So good to see you again! I don’t know if you remember but this is my darling wife.” His hand squeezed your waist as he drawled out the word “darling.” You smiled and introduced yourself to the older man, standing by as the ever interested wife as they both made small talk.

Every introduction that followed was the same. You were Renjun’s beloved wife, his dear wife, his sweet wife, the wife he adored and with every introduction you felt the genuine disappointment from earlier melt into mild, playful annoyance.

After Renjun had had enough of introductions and led the two of you to your seats you finally took the bait. “I know what you’re doing Mr. Huang, just because you describe me with all these cute little adjectives doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

Renjun hides a smile from behind the rim of his glass, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh! This is my precious wife who I love with my whole heart and soul, do you remember her?” You mimic in a low growl.

Renjun laughs brightly, “I don’t sound like that! And I didn’t gush about you like that.”

“You basically did. Now everyone here knows who wears the pants in this marriage.”

Renjun grabs your hands and waits for you to look at him. When you do you find his gaze soft and apologetic, “I really am sorry. It completely slipped my mind and in the future I will absolutely stay on top of keeping you informed. Can you find it in that big, beautiful heart of yours to forgive me?”

You fiddled with the wedding band on his ring finger, “I’m more annoyed that you kept pulling hideous dresses when we didn’t have a lot of time to get here.”

“I will never, and I mean never, give you fake fashion advice again.”

“Well, I’m sorry for throwing a fit about it too. I accept your apology, my favorite husband.”

“Hey! I’m your only husband. Forever.”

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

Ed’s Initial Intentions regarding Stede

Thank you so much for your attention to the poll. The consensus is it’s complicated - and I sort of agree - although I’m swayed towards Fascination alone.

This is my interpretation…

Stede causes Ed to access hidden or denied parts of himself before they’ve even met. And it causes a change in Ed’s behaviour. Ed’s come across many rich or aristocratic folks to rob whom he would see killed without issue; but not someone who’s also a pirate, doing their own original thing, and who seems ambivalent towards Blackbeard’s existence. It’s dopamine to Ed’s novelty-starved brain. It’s not as if Ed carries out a usual raid on the Revenge intending to kill Stede, only to find himself unexpectedly charmed. Ed’s bewitched even before he meets Stede, which means Ed’s entire approach and thought-processes are altered.

Killing Stede and the crew isn’t necessarily off the table should the need arise, but I don’t think it’s actively on in any capacity. There’s no plan, and there’s no ‘uszh’ for once either. Because none of this is uszh. Ed’s engagement with the Revenge is not his normal MO. History’s most brilliant tactician is free-styling. Possibly free-falling.

At the end of 102, Izzy states, ‘Captain says follow that ship.’ And Fang answers ‘Oh really? Why?’ To which Izzy replies, ‘How should I know? The man’s half-insane.’ This conversation shows this isn’t usual strategy. Even Fang asks why - he thought they’d seen the last of those ‘fancyboys’. And Ivan’s sad he didn’t get the chance to murder them, which seems the usual way of things. Plus they’d already had the chance to take or plunder the ship when it ran aground, so this stalking manoeuvre is out of the ordinary. It feels like wasted time and energy.

By the start of episode three, Blackbeard’s ship is a few hundred yards out from the Revenge, and Izzy’s trying to manipulate Ed into usual strategy again by suggesting opening fire, or boarding and throwing the Revenge crew to the sharks. Instead, Ed wants to wait until they make landfall and invite them aboard his ship. Ed’s doing something very different again because he’s unwittingly engaging with an unfamiliar part of himself. And interestingly ‘Go suck eggs in Hell’ appears not to insult, but to somewhat seduce him further. Before meeting Stede, he’s already out of his depth emotionally, and acting out of character, literally.

Despite what Ed would do normally, I just cannot see him landing on the Revenge with the active intent of plundering the ship and / or killing Stede and the crew. His words and actions suggest he’s already through the looking-glass.

So, to The Plan. We have three interesting moments which lead up to its revelation: the clothes swap, ‘careful of your face’ and ‘show me the ways of an aristocrat’.

For me, the three strands, which have no previous connection (other than Ed and Stede playing together), come together in Ed’s mind somewhere between Ed leaving Stede on the lookout, and Ed speaking with Izzy below: a matter of seconds. It reminds me of Keyser Söze in The Usual Suspects, pulling together disparate ideas into a cohesive story spontaneously. It’s the mind of a quick-thinker. And it’s in-keeping with Ed’s ability of reacting in the moment to the moment when necessary.

I think Ed also feels forced to perform Blackbeard for Izzy because Izzy’s threatening to leave pushes on that white father-figure emotional bruise. At this stage, Ed doesn’t have enough emotional loyalty to Stede to not voice such a plan; whilst his identity is still too caught in Izzy’s web to let him go - ‘you’re needed here’. For me, the plan to kill Stede is brought about in the moment via an act of psychological coercive control.

But Ed’s also kicking the can down the road. It’s a sort of Faustian bargain. Why not promise Izzy both their souls if it means Ed and Stede can hang out a little longer? Yet on another level Ed’s possibly hoping the debt won’t be called in, such is the complexity of the push and pull here. He’s putting it on the tab, the never-never. He’ll out-manoeuvre it if he decides that’s what he wants. Of course there’s doublethink going on because Ed’s in the middle of an identity crisis.

Ed daren’t admit his real reason for wanting to stay on the Revenge. He can’t comprehend himself even how deep this goes. His look as he turns is one of exhaustion and confusion. Stede Bonnet has him rattled. What started as a trickle of unease and ennui before they’d even met is now a whirlpool of unidentifiable feelings around both Stede, and Ed’s own perception of self.

Ed’s free-falling in liminal space.

[fluentmoviequoter]

S.O.S.

TO!Tim Bradford x fem!TO!reader, fluff, 0.8k+ words. You and Tim are in grave danger, and it's up to your rookies, Lucy and Jackson, to save you.

Lucy Chen SOS!!!!!!!!!!🆘 

Nolan and Jackson look at one another, wondering why Lucy is texting them an SOS from the bathroom. She rushes back before they can stand from the table to see if she really needs help. 

“Code red, worst case scenario, this should be the standard for defcon 1,” she rambles as she leans against the table. 

“Uh… there was no toilet paper?” Nolan guesses. 

“Do you know what SOS means?” Lucy questions. 

“Save our ship,” Jackson says. His eyes widen suddenly, and he adds, “No.”

“What am I missing here?” Nolan implores. “Is this about your TOs or something?”

“Yes!” Lucy and Jackson answer. 

“She’s on a date. Here. It doesn’t look like it’s going well, but I think Tim knows,” Lucy tells Jackson. 

“Why does your TO being on a date have anything to do with Tim?” Nolan asks Jackson. 

“Because they… they’re great for each other and dancing around it. They’re the perfect ship.”

“My head hurts,” Nolan complains as he lowers his forehead into his hands. 

“What do we do?” Lucy poses. 

“You said the date wasn’t going well?” Jackson repeats. “We can use that.”

“What?” Tim says when the call connects. 

“Tim, uh, there’s this guy at the restaurant we’re at that is not being nice to his date. At all,” Lucy explains. 

“And? Do something about it,” Tim replies. 

“He’s with my TO,” Jackson adds. 

“Which restaurant?” Something shuffles on Tim’s end of the call, and Lucy silently high-fives Jackson as she answers. 

“Tell her the truth, Tim,” she encourages before ending the call. 

You examine your fingernails under the table as your date tells you how terrible his last girlfriend was. One of your friends set you up on this date, but you’re seconds away from walking out. 

“One little slap - accidental! - and she stormed out,” the man concludes. 

You look up then, shocked as you repeat, “Slap? You hit a woman and you’re telling me about it?”

“I wouldn’t do it to you,” he promises. 

You exhale sharply in disbelief, then move your napkin from your lap onto the table. Before you can say anything, your date reaches across the table and takes your hand tightly. 

“Sir, you can’t be in this area without a table,” the hostess calls.

Tim runs into your table, sees the grip the man has on your hand, and demands, “Let her go.”

You pull your hand away when his fingers loosen, then stand and wrap your hand around Tim’s bicep. 

“Let’s go,” you whisper. “He’s not worth it.”

“I’d have to agree, sir,” the hostess says. “Please don’t disturb the other customers.”

Tim looks at you and stares into your eyes to ensure you’re okay. He turns toward you after you nod, catching your hand as it falls from his arm. He leads you out of the restaurant but stops beside his passenger door. 

“Thank you,” you tell him. “I don’t even know why I agreed to the date.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, no. He hurt his ex from what he told me, but-“

“I don’t care about her, or him,” Tim says, carefully holding your face toward his. “I care about you.”

“How did you even find me?”

Tim sighs, and you laugh once before shaking your head at his lack of an answer. Tim uses his hands on your jaws to pull you close, and when he kisses you, everything makes sense. All the longing, the fear of seeing each other in danger, the arguments, and the lack of interest in anyone because you compare them to Tim Bradford suddenly allow you to realize that you love him. You move your hands to hold his wrists as you move with him, kissing him like your life depends on it. 

“Thanks for coming,” you whisper as you move back. 

“I always will.”

“Are you going to tell me how you found me?”

“Lucy called,” Tim mumbles. 

“What was that?”

“Our rookies are nosy,” he speaks up. 

You smile, straightening Tim’s collar as you agree, “I should’ve known. How are we going to get back at them? Push-ups? Big staged break up?”

“Let’s figure it out later,” Tim replies as he opens the car door for you. “I think you’re owed a good date.”

Inside the restaurant, Lucy and Jackson cheer as you kiss Tim. 

“You know they’ll make you pay for this,” Nolan reminds them. 

“Unless they’re so happy they forget about us and the misery they think we deserve,” Jackson argues. 

“Your TO? Maybe. Tim Bradford? Not a chance.”

Lucy’s smile drops, and she falls into her seat. “I saved our ship, but endangered my soul.”

“You’ll be fine,” Jackson assures. “Just bring her up every time he’s mean and you’ll be fine.”

“Leverage,” Lucy muses. “It could work.”

“And if it doesn’t, just lie that she’s in danger. It’s worked before,” Nolan adds. 

Lucy and Jackson watch him eat a bite of their shared appetizer before asking, “Have you done that?”

“It’s not just your ship.”

[sc4rrc]

Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason

═���══════════════════

════════════════════

- 2012!Donnie x reader - Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason - Fluff - Warnings: None Request: Nope, just came up with this on my own whilst reading through some one shots of my personal favourite creators. You like Donnie, he likes you. But you're both as oblivious as ever, despite clearly showing each other that you care. And as a date is set between you and someone who is -clearly- NOT Donnie, he finds it hard to not feel jealous. ════════════════════

For quite some time, nearly since you met, both you and Donnie had held an affection for one another. Whether it was how he saved you and your friend, April, from the Kraang that first drew you to him, or the fact that he so easily got along with you from then on, it didn’t seem to matter. You became close from that point, and eventually you even took part in most of their missions—after you’d gotten more familiar with fighting through Splinter’s lessons.

A few problems did arise between the two of you though, like how oblivious you both seemed when it came to actually catching on that someone might be interested. Or the way doubt crept in because of your close friendship. He’d compliment you a lot, always ensuring your safety on missions, and you did the same for him. But somehow, you both missed the bigger picture. “It’s not something new; he worries about all of us during fights,” you’d tell yourself whenever April pointed it out.

And it was true; he always watched out for his brothers, too. How could he not? They were family. But there he was, watching you train, helping you improve when Splinter was busy.

Other times, you’d be the one to assist him. Sometimes you’d grab things from the top that he did not have easy access to, or simply keep him company in the lab to make sure he took breaks. Lunch, water—the basics. But one thing you both did constantly, no matter how oblivious each of you seemed in the moment, was stare. Even from across the room, one of you would be looking at the other. On movie nights, for example, you’d sit on the couch, Mikey on your right and Casey on your left, everyone focused on the screen—except Donnie, whose gaze would occasionally drift toward you.

He’d become well aware that he was absolutely, undeniably infatuated with you. Even he knew he sometimes went a bit too far with his attention, though his brothers never hesitated to tease him. Raph, mostly. But with his feelings also came doubt, for both of you. After so long, with neither of you daring to believe the other felt the same, you both wondered if it could ever work. You didn’t want to risk your precious friendship on a confession that might lead to rejection. So, silence it was.

“I don’t know, April. Just think about it. If I say something, and he doesn’t feel the same, then this might just ruin our friendship. And I don’t want that.”

Harsh words to admit, really. The thought wasn’t exactly pleasant. April had been trying for ages to nudge you both toward a confession, convinced it would lead to something good. Or maybe that was just the hopeless romantic in her, but she hoped nonetheless. And despite her efforts—along with the boys’ attempts to coax Donnie out of his safe shell—neither of you would budge. Sighing, she finally said, “That is fair, I suppose. But I still stand by what I said earlier. Forgetting doesn’t sound like the best alternative. I’ll help, but that doesn’t mean I’m agreeing with this plan.”

Her words made you smile in gratitude. Crushing on Donnie, though a genuine feeling, had become almost frustrating. He seemed so unaware of your feelings—close, yet so distant. It made you wonder if maybe he really didn’t feel the same. And yes, that stung a little. But it also made you realize that moving on might be necessary. For everyone’s sake, including your own. So, when a boy in your History class asked you out, you accepted. It felt like progress for a moment, but only for a moment. Soon, it became a test to see how quickly you could let go of Donnie, knowing that dwelling on him wasn’t helping you move forward. And after all, it was just a date—a way to focus on someone else. ════════════════════

When it came to being in that position—being told by the girl he couldn’t stop being so fond of that she had a date with some guy, a human guy no less—Donnie wanted to dig himself a hole in the lab and never come out. He’d imagined this day might come, and he felt like he was losing his chance—if he ever even had one. His heart sank as the words left your mouth, and it was hard not to show his disappointment. But for your sake, he put on a smile and congratulated you. He even wished you good luck. Then, once you left the lair, he retreated to his lab, shutting the door behind him, eyes focused on his work. Anything to avoid thinking about his growing jealousy, even for a moment. The others noticed the slump in his shoulders as he walked away but decided to let him be. They knew it might be a long evening in the lair, but they figured the situation might resolve itself—if it could.

--- Time Skip ---

Hours went by, some faster than others, and soon you found yourself back in your apartment, changed into a new set of clothes, ready to sleep the day away. Reflecting on what was supposed to be a date, you thought back to what he’d said: “Listen, I’m not really one for these serious things, ’kay? You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But I’ve got my ways around relationships, if you want to keep me happy.” That was about all you’d heard before mentally checking out of the “date.” He seemed nice at first but turned out to be a self-centred idiot—not the good kind of idiot either. And with all his talking, you made little effort to understand what he really meant.

You couldn’t recall the whole conversation, but you knew there was no way you’d repeat the experience. The things he said—about you and about others—were all wrong for you. He kept going on about some “party with girls” he had to get to, and the moment he crossed a line, you’d made your exit, realizing just how little interest you had in seeing him again.

You’d only just drifted off when a soft, rhythmic tapping at the window stirred you back to consciousness. Groaning, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and shuffled toward the window, squinting through the curtains. It could only be one of the guys, you knew, but the last thing you expected was to find Donnie, hanging upside down on the fire escape patiently, his expression hovering somewhere between nervous and excited.

Fighting back a laugh, you pushed the window open. “Donnie?” you whispered, the surprise obvious in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

He offered a tentative smile, voice low. “Hey. Sorry if I woke you. Just, uh… thought I’d check in. Make sure you got home okay.”

You laughed softly, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a bit late for a check-in, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I know, but…” He shrugged, his calm exterior cracking just enough to reveal a hint of nervousness. “Couldn’t help myself. April mentioned the date didn’t, uh… go quite how you planned?”

A sigh slipped from you as you pulled the blanket around yourself a little tighter, rolling your eyes. April, of course. “You could say that,” you chuckled. “He was… something, alright.” You caught his amused grin, the faint hint of relief there not lost on you. You shook your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips despite it all.

Donnie’s face softened, his eyes meeting yours. “Yeah, well… I think you deserve better than that.” His voice was quiet, sincere, but even he looked surprised by his own words, cheeks darkening just a bit under his mask. “I mean, someone who’d treat you better than that. A lot better, actually.”

A warmth spread through you, his words settling in, making you feel a little lighter after such a disappointing night. His gaze hadn’t wavered, and you felt yourself holding your breath, caught off guard by how much his simple words meant.

“Thanks, Donnie. For worrying about me,” you said, the words barely a whisper. Before either of you could overthink it, you leaned out the window and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Donnie froze completely, his eyes wide, his usual calm vanishing in a heartbeat as he stared at you, utterly speechless. It took him a second—maybe two—before he swallowed, blinking a few times as if to process that the kiss had actually happened. A deep blush crept over his face, nearly reaching the edges of his mask.

“Oh. I, yeah.. Anytime,” he stammered, his voice slightly higher than usual. His hand moved almost instinctively to where you’d kissed him, and for a second, he was all but suspended there, entirely lost in the moment.

You bit back a laugh, giving him a little wave before you gently closed the window and pulled the curtain back in place. A small thrill ran through you as you moved back toward bed, a smile lingering even as you settled back under the blankets.

Outside, Donnie remained still, one hand pressed to his cheek, replaying the moment over and over in his head. A grin broke out slowly across his face, unable to hold back the ridiculous happiness building up inside him. "Oh, man... She kissed me. She actually kissed me.” He couldn’t help the ridiculous grin on his face as he clambered back up the fire escape, his heart still thudding as he slipped back into the shadows, feeling no more of that jealousy from earlier. Not even the knowing looks from his brothers as he made his way through the entrance of the lair brought him fully back, his mind still stuck in that moment.

════════════════════ A/N: Here's my first one-shot. I think it turned out pretty good, considering nearly half of what I made the other night in drafts did not save. But idk if I should make a part 2 for this? I could, if I feel like it. It also depends on what you guys want so I might pole it, but the main idea is that I did it. (Also I love Donnie so much, he's so bf material.) - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

[bullet-prooflove]

Right Here: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

Companion piece to:

The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.

Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.

Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.

Safe - You and Gibbs work through your grief in different ways.

Check In - Gibbs checks in with you after the night before.

The night Gibbs closes the Mildred Jones case is the night you come home to find him sitting on your porch.  His elbows are resting on his knees and his head is tilted back towards the stars that are twinkling above. There’s a half drunk bottle of whiskey resting on the stoop alongside of him, the amber liquid glistening in the porch light you always leave on.

“So this looks fun.” You say, nudging his boot with your foot to get his attention.

“You weren’t in so I thought I’d wait.” He says as you sit down alongside him. Your body accidently bumps against his and he leans in just a little absorbing your warmth.

“You started drinking without me.” You say gesturing towards the bottle.

He sighs and you can see the shame etched into his features because this isn’t him. This case it’s touched a raw nerve, thrown him back into a place that he doesn’t want to be. You know what it’s like to fall into that hole, you know how hard it is to climb out. If you're honest with yourself, you aren’t sure you ever did.

“You wanna come inside, see if we can’t sober you up a little?” You ask him and he nods his head in agreement as you raise to your feet. Your arm hooks under his as you try to pull him up with you.

“Christ you’re heavy.” You mutter before he forces himself to his feet, he wobbles for a moment, his hands grasping your shoulders as he tries to steady himself. You grip his hips, holding him in place as he continues to waver.

“I gave away one of my daughter’s toys today, her favourite.”  He whispers, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “I guess that means I’m moving on right?”

“Is that what this is all about?” You ask as the tears leak down his cheeks. “You feel guilty for letting a part of her go?”

He nods and you place your palm over his heart, fingertips splaying across the fabric of his shirt. He feels warm to the touch and you realise that this right here is the most intimate you’ve been with another person since Violet died. You’ve fucked during that time, but it’s always been impersonal, about fulfilling a need.

This is different, Gibbs, he’s showing his vulnerabilities right now and you know just how hard that it is, especially after a loss.

“Jethro.” You whisper, your fingertip tapping the space where his heart resides. “We never truly lose them, even when they’re taken from us. They’re still in here, they’re still a part of us.”

“Right.” He says with a shaky breath, his eyebrows furrowing as his hand covers yours, keeping it clasped to his chest. “I still have them, I didn’t lose them because they’re right here.”

“Yea.” You whisper, tasting the salt from his tears on your lips as they brush over his cheek. “They’re right here.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[poepoesstuff]

Satosugu x Reader Series - Part 1: Meeting Gojo & Geto

Notes: I’ve never written fanfiction before, so please don’t take it too seriously! I was just bored and thought about this idea because I love the concept of being in a poly relationship with Gojo and Geto—it seems like so much fun! I’m new to writing, so feedback, questions, or suggestions are totally welcome! I’m just having fun with it.

Tags:

#Satosugu #Gojo Satoru #Geto Suguru #Reader Insert #Jujutsu Kaisen #Satoru Gojo x Reader #Suguru Geto x Reader #Polyamory #Fanfiction #Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfic #Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto #JJK Fanfiction #Gojo x Geto #Jujutsu High #Satosugu x Reader

-

You guys knew each other from high school. You came to Jujutsu High later but joined the same class as Gojo and Geto, though you were on a different team. The first person you noticed was Gojo Satoru from the Gojo Clan—a lineage you’d only heard of. His reputation and charm immediately intrigued you. However, it was Geto Suguru who ultimately stole your heart with his calm confidence.

You were introduced to the class about a year and a half before Geto’s path took a darker turn.

As Yaga steps into the class, he calls attention to you. You follow him in, and several surprised faces turn to look at you.

“This is Y/N. She’s a kunoichi from a remote village in Japan and will be attending as your classmate from now on. Y/N, introduce yourself.”

You take a breath, feeling the eyes on you, but stand confidently. “I am L/N Y/N, from the C/N Clan. As of today, I’m beginning my journey as a sorcerer at Jujutsu High. My family is known for preserving sorcery knowledge and secrets. As the new heir, I’ve come to study and hone my skills.”

You notice intrigued expressions, especially from a silver-haired boy with piercing blue eyes in the back. Shoko’s gaze also seems particularly curious. Once Yaga leaves, you take your seat and start your Jujutsu High journey. Quickly, you become friends with Shoko, who introduces you to both Gojo and Geto.

First Impressions

Gojo is thrilled to have you in class and wastes no time bringing you up with Geto.

“So,” Gojo nudges Geto with a grin, “what do you think of the new girl?”

Geto raises an eyebrow, already catching onto Gojo’s interest. “You mean Y/N? She has an interesting technique, definitely useful in a fight.”

Gojo laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He gives Geto a playful shove.

Geto smirks knowingly. “Well, if you’re asking… yes, she’s beautiful. Kinda reminds me of Erika Sawajiri.”

Gojo huffs, crossing his arms. “Right? I knew I had an eye for these things!”

Meanwhile, you feel lucky to be spending time with both of them. Missions become highlights of your training whenever you’re paired with Gojo, Geto, or both.

Gojo Satoru’s Approach to Win You Over

After Gojo admits he’s interested, he goes all out. Here’s how he tries to impress you:

1. Playful Teasing: Gojo loves to make you laugh. Expect playful remarks and witty comebacks whenever you’re around. His goal? To get you to blush.

2. Showing Off His Power: Gojo’s proud of his abilities, and he doesn’t hold back from showing off. From flashy demonstrations of his Limitless technique to skillful moves on missions, he always seems to be “casually” proving how powerful he is.

3. Grand Gestures: Gojo’s not one for small acts. If he learns about your favorite snack, he’ll buy a whole stash of it. If you’re stressed, he’ll invite you on a night adventure to see the city lights.

Continuing from where we left off with Gojo’s approach:

4. Constant Presence: Gojo wants to be around you as much as possible. He’ll always find a reason to sit next to you in class, join you on missions, or just “accidentally” bump into you between training sessions. He’s persistent and makes sure you notice him.

5. Playful Competition with Geto: Knowing Geto likes you too, Gojo can’t resist turning it into a friendly rivalry. He’ll challenge Geto to sparring matches, jokes, or even silly games to try and prove he’s the better choice for you, often with a smirk and a playful wink in your direction.

Geto Suguru’s Approach to Win You Over

Geto’s approach is more subtle, thoughtful, and grounded. Here’s how he tries to capture your heart:

1. Deep Conversations: Geto values getting to know you on a personal level. He’ll ask about your background, your clan, and your opinions on sorcery. These conversations make you feel like he genuinely cares about who you are beyond your technique.

2. Small, Thoughtful Gestures: Geto isn’t flashy but remembers the small details, like your favorite tea or if you’re having a hard day. He’ll quietly leave a comforting note or share a peaceful place he’s found on campus with you. His kindness is understated but leaves an impact.

3. Protective on Missions: Though both he and Gojo are strong, Geto takes a protective role. He’ll keep a watchful eye over you, subtly stepping in to ensure your safety without making it obvious. It’s his way of showing you’re important to him.

4. Respectful of Your Space: Unlike Gojo, Geto gives you space to make your own choices. He never pressures you to spend time with him, trusting that if you like him, you’ll come to him. This gives him a calm confidence, which contrasts with Gojo’s more in-your-face approach.

5. Gentle Rivalry with Gojo: Geto handles the “competition” in a reserved way, knowing Gojo’s personality. While Gojo’s approach is loud, Geto’s is quieter—he focuses on creating genuine moments with you that show his sincerity, confident that his authenticity will speak for itself.

Gojo and Geto were unbelievably close, and you helped them realize their feelings for each other and get together. They were six months into their relationship before they added you.

[asgardianechoes]

Spilled Secrets

Loki x Reader Fluff

Summary: You secretly like Loki, but you’re kind of upset he doesn’t know… until he finds out.  

Word Count: 3.2k

It wasn’t hard to fall for him. Humor, charm, high cheekbones… he has it all. From his silver tongue to his raven hair, you adored every aspect. Despite his misdeeds, he was undeniably hot. He held himself royally, always maintaining an air of nobility. One meeting with him had you hooked on him, unable to let go or think of anything else.

‘He lives free rent in my mind’, you told Natasha one day in the living room of the Avengers Headquarters. Apart from Pepper, she and Wanda were the only ones you could do Girl Talk with. ‘I don’t know how to tell him.’

She looked at you sympathetically, taking your hand in her own. She had known of your crush since the day you started liking him. The radio played in the background, informing of some good weather, but neither of you noticed, both too concentrated on your current dilemma. Lovesickness had never been a significant issue to you before… until he came along.

‘He stole my heart… and yet he acts oblivious,’ you ranted on. Natasha looked up, smiling softly. She stroked your hand with one finger absent-mindedly as she listened intently.

‘He’ll get there. Or maybe,’ a small smirk tugged at her lips as she looked back up at you, ‘he already knows; he might just be toying with you just to see how long you’d last.’

You nudged her with your hand, a faint red hue coming over your face. He wouldn’t… right?

‘I mean-’, she pressed on, ‘it’s a very typical thing of him to do, don’t you think?’ She scooted closer to you, putting a hand on your back soothingly. ‘Playing with others’ feelings… I honestly don’t think it would take him that long to figure out that you like him. It’s really obvious.’

‘You’re not helping,’ you replied, looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to locate him through the walls. Nevertheless, you smiled softly at her teasing. She was always there for your small talks. After a while, you lowered your gaze back to your lap, reality sinking in and you felt the joy leaving you.

‘But what if he doesn’t? What if he genuinely doesn’t know?’ you mumbled in front of you, pulling your knees up and wrapping your arms around them. Once again, tears threatened to fall as you buried your face in them, softly mumbling to yourself. The fabric of your pants absorbed the salty droplets, leaving a dark spot there. You were audibly sniffing now. You felt her hand move up and down your back again, her words only muffled sounds. At some point she led you back to your room, leaving you to yourself for the rest of the night.

The next day you went over to the library. The Avengers had quite a big one, it filled the entire floor. Rows upon rows of shelves lined the walls and the spaces in between, the scent of paper floating in the air. You stopped at the sign that indicated where the romance-fiction stories were. If only my life was as nice as one of those, you thought, pulling a roman out of the shelf and reading the back of it intently. If only I could live in a life like that.

Sitting down at the table, you put down the book you’d taken out. Not gonna lie, you were in no interest in reading it. There was no need for you to get jealous over another made-up story. To pass time, you grabbed a scrap piece of paper and started doodling. Only the lines that the lead left only spelled one word, over and over again: Loki. You wrote his name all over the place, sideways, in cursive, in bold letters. Maybe it was because you were so concentrated that you didn’t hear the library door opening.

‘Oh, I see that I’m not the only one in need of something to do,’ a voice said, startling you. You quickly covered the scribbled paper with another blank sheet, looking over your shoulder. Thor was standing there with a load of books in his arms.

‘My dear brother decided to make me run errands,’ he explained cheerfully, certainly not getting the nervousness etched in your face. You nodded, looking down. What you would do to make Loki make you run his errands. ‘You alright?’ His voice brought you back to reality.

‘What? Oh. Yeah, I’m alright. Just… in need of something to do, like you said,’ you managed a small smile that was somewhat realistic. He just smiled and continued putting books back on shelves. Your eyes followed every single book as he put them back. Loki held these maybe even moments ago, you thought. If only I were a book he’d like to read.

Sometime later, he looked over to you again and asked: ‘Are you working on anything? Because that paper tells me you aren’t doing what you want to do.’ You picked up the two pieces of paper and replied a little too fast: ‘Oh, yeah, I just have to write something for Stark, nothing big.’ You held the papers a little more firmly in your hand. When he asked to proofread it, you declined immediately. Mumbling something about not being done, you put them back down, bending over it and pretending you were thinking about what to write. Shrugging, Thor left, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. But your relief didn’t last long; a few moments later, another person came in, and this time it was none other than the god of mischief himself. Strutting through the rows, you heard him pulling books out and putting them back in, as if none of the ones he found were worth his attention. Eventually he spoke up.

‘Why the tenseness? Is it your time of the month?’ he asked coyly. He turned the corner and looked at you. Your gaze dropped almost instantly to the ground. ‘No, I’m just…,’ you said, picking your papers up again, ‘just a little tired. Couldn’t sleep.’

His eyebrows raised as he looked away to the opposite bookshelf. ‘Is that so…?’ he mumbled, more to himself than to you, ‘hmm.’ You couldn’t tell if he knew you were lying or not but he sure seemed to deem you amusing. After a small pause he continued. ‘I would’ve thought someone like you would know that lying to me is futile.’

You froze. Of course you knew that, but how could you ever tell him the truth of your stiffness? He’s the prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim, a regal character, not some random guy you can just find on the streets. ‘Yes, of course. How could I not know that?’

He narrowed his eyes, his signature smirk widening. He walks up to you, his eyes boring into yours. His gaze fell upon the papers you held in your arms, a questioning look crossing his face.

‘Just… just a report I’m supposed to write,’ you lied for the second time, and he didn’t let that go unnoticed. He tilts his head, his eyes asking are you really going to do this? Because there won’t be a nice ending if this continues. He doesn’t say anything about it though, just nods slyly and walks away.

He pulls a further book of the shelf, inspecting it. Seemingly satisfied, he scanned it and left the library, letting the emptiness envelop you. You uncovered the paper filled with his name, unshed tears threatening to fall. Will he ever know…? Will he ever acknowledge my feelings for him?

You return to your room afterwards, attempting to bury your feelings down a deep grave. You sulked until night fell upon the busy city. Deciding to take a shower, you went to get some fresh clothes for the night. Soon enough, warm water was splattering down your body, warming your sore and mentally broken body.

When you came back out of the shower and entered your living room again, you found an unexpected guest. Loki was sitting in your armchair, reading a magazine. His eyes darted to you the moment you stepped into the chamber. You fumbled with your nightshirt pockets, unsure of what to do.

‘What, uh, brings you to my place at this hour?’ you tried, testing the waters. He doesn’t reply, instead he slowly puts the magazine down, his eyes never leaving yours. He shortens the distance between you, every step making your heart beat faster. When he finally stopped around a foot away from you, you looked down, unable to look at him properly. He was too much, too dazzling for your poor, tragic eyes.

‘I think we both know why I’m here,’ he says, tilting his head, eyes boring into yours. You couldn’t breathe, your breath running short. His aura surrounded you like a cage, keeping you trapped in his gaze. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ you replied quietly to the floor. He lifted your chin and forced you to look him in the eye, his face inches from yours. ‘Do not lie, little minx. I know what your problem is. You suffer from lovesickness. There’s a man you love so dearly that you can’t stop thinking about him.’

You shoved him away the moment these words left his mouth. You couldn’t, couldn’t stand his breath on your face, couldn’t stand how close he was to you. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ you said, using indifference to cover up your shaking voice, ‘I do suffer from that. What has that got to do with you coming over?’

He scoffed softly, ‘Oh, darling, that has everything to do about me coming over. I imagine I can relieve you of your… dilemma.’ Your heart skipped a beat, hoping he didn’t mean what you thought he meant. You just shook your head, looking away. ‘You wouldn’t understand…’ you said, hoping he’d stop clawing at your secrets. But he smiled, nodding slightly and does the utter opposite of what you hoped. ‘Oh really? Because I have a very different opinion about that.’

Please leave, you thought as he said this, praying to the gods, please stop killing me like this… another minute with you will break me. But his next words proved that your prayers were ignored.

‘I’m the lucky guy.’

I’m the lucky guy.

These words seemed to echo in your head. So he knew. He knew about your helpless case. And he knew he was at the center of it. All this time. Or maybe just since today. But who cares. He knows. And your secret’s spilled. In a terrifying way.   

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You closed it again, looking anywhere but at him. In the end you settled with staring at his knees, which are pretty much where your eyes land when you look down. You were freaking out, your heart hammering in your chest. You needed to be alone. Right. Freaking. Now.

‘You know what?’ you said, your voice quivering, ‘I’m going to bed.’ You turn around and began marching with determination towards your bedroom door. Loki seemed slightly stunned, catching your shoulder just in time and called after you with worry in his tone: ‘Where are you going? You shouldn’t just leave me hanging, we should – need – to talk about this-‘

‘No, we won’t,’ you said, refusing to turn around and face him. Gods, if you stayed any longer tears would fall. ‘We shouldn’t, because we’re not-‘ she broke off, the words lost in her throat. Going to work out well was what she wanted to say, but she just couldn’t – wouldn’t – bring these words over her lips. Instead, she shook her head again and marched further away. Your sanctuary was so close… so close… But his next words brought you to a halt again.

‘Jumping to conclusions won’t help, Y/n,’ he said with a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Due to her lack of response, he pressed further, ‘Is that why you never tried to communicate with me? Why you so desperately avoided my presence? Because you feared that no matter what you did, the worse-case scenario would always happen? Talk to me, Y/n.’ His words hung in the air, thickening it. Tears welled up in her eyes, her mind reflecting on all the break-up and mocking scenarios her imagination had come up with. She whipped around, trying to keep her tears from falling.

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You have no idea what it feels like. You have-‘ she broke off again, a shuddering breath replacing the words she was about to say. You have no reason to love me. Not a single one. Tears began to fall as this thought formed in your head. The same one that brought you to tears every time. Every. Damn. Time.

He stayed silent, staring at the thin streams flowing down your face. Unable to bear the silence, you ran back to your room, slamming the door behind you. The moment it fell into place, the streams on your cheeks became rivers, and soon enough you were a sobbing mess on the floor. You were sure Loki could hear them through the door, but at that moment you didn’t care. He had no reason to love you, to care about you, or to even be here, in your living room, standing, stunned, in front of your bedroom door.

Loki felt a sudden pang of sadness when he heard your sobs. Looking down and deciding that it’s a bad time, he leaves, shutting your door quietly.

You didn’t remember how long you’d sat there, crying, on the floor. The only thing you do remember that is that at some point, you dragged yourself into bed and cried yourself to sleep. The next morning came in the blink of an eye, the bright sunlight waking you up. For a split second everything was fine. No worries, no problems, no nothing. But then it all came back to you and the feeling of eternal bliss was stripped from you faster than you wanted it to be.

As you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, you saw something that certainly wasn’t there the night before. A small folded card was propped up against your brush on your nightstand, and your heart skipped a beat when you recognised Loki’s smooth handwriting. There was only one word on the cover: your name. Picking it up like a grenade, you opened it, expecting to see something that went along the lines of ‘I’m sorry, that’ll never happen again,’ but only found one line of words inside it.

‘Come over to my room.’

You blinked.

Come over to my room.

You read through that line a good five times before the meaning got into your brain, although the cogs in your head were still trying to sort this out. Loki – like, God of mischief and destroyer of New York Loki – was inviting you to enter his private chambers? Was this a joke? Was he trying to hype you up just to break you back down?

As much as you’d like to deny it, that order was a lot more appealing than it should be. You desperately wanted to see him again, even if it meant you could be broken. So after a moment of internal debating, you concluded that you will go pay him a visit, and will see what the hell he wants. Putting on some clothes, you set off to his room.

You half expected him to swing the door open and yank you inside when you knocked, but instead some green light shimmered and formed the words: Door is unlocked. Starting to get creepy now, you thought, gathering up your courage and pushing the door open.

The moment you stepped a foot into his room, a hand grabbed your waist and spun you around. Next moment you felt soft lips pressed against yours. Your breath hitched when you figured it was Loki’s. You didn’t have time to register what was going on, everything was happening so fast. So you did the one thing you could do: melt into his touch.

Once the shock has subsided, it felt a lot better than what you expected in your fantasies. His lips were so soft, so loving as they kissed you, sweetly asking for you to open your mouth. His tongue delved into it, tangling itself with yours, licking and flicking and who knows what tricks.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, his blue eyes gazing into yours. You blushed, looking at the floor, suddenly realising what you two just did. Stumbling over your own words, you said: ‘That was… umm…’

He hummed in response, his hands never leaving your waistline. Your face must’ve been as red as a tomato when you spoke up again. ‘Nice of you…’

He put on a mock hurt look. Pulling you closer, he nuzzled in the crook of your neck. ‘Is that all? After this wonderous surprise I’ve prepared that bested all other ones?’

You shrugged, unable to speak. He was killing you, like before… but this time in a sweet way. You mumbled something about being ‘sorry for last night’, but he shushed you almost immediately.

‘There’s no need for that,’ he said, patting your head, ‘No need to be sorry. I know I went a little to sudden.’

He pulled back to look at you. His eyes searched your body, as if trying to print it into his head. Your arms creeped up his neck, wrapping themselves securely around it. You stared as he breathed heavily into your face, a scent of mint filling your nose.

‘Did you like, eat a mint this morning?’ you asked shyly. He chuckled, swinging you into his arms, causing you to instinctively cling onto him. You gave him an angry look, burying your face in his neck. ‘Just for you, my love.’ You were suddenly happy he couldn’t see your face. He could probably feel the heat radiating off it, though.

‘So… are we a thing now?’ he asked, walking towards the couch and sitting down, you now in his lap. ‘Or what do you Midgardians call it… a couple?’ You nodded in agreement, making yourself comfortable in his arms. He absent-mindedly stroked your hair, admiring the way it shimmers slightly in the dim light.

‘For how long did you know?’ you asked him, grabbing his free hand and playing with it like a toddler. He thought for a moment, then said: ‘Most likely since a month ago. I was originally waiting for you to make the first move, but… you seemed too nervous to. That’s why I decided to come to your room last night.’

You gaped as he said that. A freaking month. No, we’re not talking about a week or two, he’s known for a MONTH. You’ve only crushed on him for like what, two months? He smirked as he saw your expression. ‘You kept looking at me now and then. And you always freaked out when you were within three meters of me.’

You shoved him playfully, pulling his hand up so it was right over your heart. You leaned into his touch, and for the first time since hours, you were glad he made the first move.

Hope y'all enjoyed it!!!

(Guys it's my first official tumblr storyyyyyy)

Tagging: @vbecker10 @mischiefmaker615 @simplyholl

Tell me if you want to be part of my taglist!

[whytheylosttheirminds]

How do you feel about Rafe and Sarah’s dynamic this season. I feel like it was a bit rushed . I mean, they have such a complex and conflicted relationship. The writers could’ve really made an interesting story here, but I just didn’t believe them at the end. . Drew and Maddy are excellent actors, but I just don’t think the script sometimes does them justice. Their final scene with they’re talking just doesn’t feel earned. What do you think?

I 100% agree. I loooove the hug scene don’t get me wrong, but I think it could’ve been even better with just 3 or 4 more lead up moments/scenes to get us there. I think the scene where she goes to his house (grey polo with the too small sleeves you icon) and flinches when he gets mad and runs away when he leans in is written, directed and acted beautifully. one of the best scenes in the show for real.

Here are the places I would have put more interactions between that scene and the hug scene to bring it home:

• when JJ is floating in the water after falling off Chandler’s boat, Rafe is the one that finds him and pulls him from the water, returns him to the pogues. There’s no big conversation about it, he just drops him off at their camp and gives Sarah a nod before driving away. It’s not heroic, it just opens the door that she closed when she ran from his condo.

• they have a longer conversation when she brings him food and water while he’s tied up. Maybe the door closes behind her and she accidentally gets locked in there with him (that’s cliche but some kind of forced proximity that results in them having to speak) in this scene I would add in him telling her about Sofia. maybe he sees the wedding ring John B gave her and it prompts him to tell her he gave Sofia their mom’s ring and he thinks she’ll be mad but she surprises him by saying “I think that’s great, Rafe.” The purpose of this would be her seeing he’s made real progress and an acknowledgement of family history.

• when she’s hungry and they all go to steal apples and cause all that chaos he disappears for a second and comes back with a whole ass meal for her, refusing to explain how he got it. I both think this would be hilarious and would provide the chance for him to acknowledge her pregnancy. Then they could still come back with the apple, and almost get arrested and rafe could pull out his change purse and go on his shopping spree just the same.

I think with those 3 things (or even just similar things), that moment would’ve been even more glorious but das just me!

[yinemw]

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: telling touya just how pretty he is

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Touya’s burnt skin 🤷🏽‍♀️, picking at his staples

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: Touya Todoroki from MHA

𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Pretty” Touya hears the mumble out of the blue, looking up from his phone to see what you were calling pretty, but your eyes were on him. Thinking he heard wrong, he went back to his phone, as if nothing happened.

“So pretty” you say once again, inching closer to him on the sofa. Palms resting on his thigh to try and get his attention.

“What?”

You only smile at his confused stare, taking the phone out of his hands and laying it on the coffee table. “You. You’re so unbelievably gorgeous Touya”

He wasn’t good with compliments, especially not with ones that made no sense to him and he didn’t believe. Him? Pretty? In his head those two didn’t go together, and even if the one person he trusted most in the world uttered the words, he still wouldn’t believe it. Perhaps it was pity? No, he knew you like the back of his scarred hand, and you never pitied him. You understood him.

“Don’t start again” he leaned over to get his phone, but you had plans of your own. Swinging one leg over his thighs, you seat yourself in his lap and prevent him from going anywhere or reaching for his phone to distract himself. “I’m serious, I don’t want to hear it” he repeated himself, but nothing seemed to stop your train of thought.

“I’m serious too, I mean it. I think you’re beautiful. Your scars, the staples holding your skin together. They hold a story, how you’ve gotten this far and what you’ve been though. They make you, you. I love the version of you that is sitting in front of me right now, and you wouldn’t be that version if it wasn’t for your past and these scars”

“Wow thank you sweetheart, that wasn’t cheesy at all” He rolled his eyes, voice sarcastic and not believing a word. “Say whatever you want, doesn’t change the fact I look like this”

“Oh come on, you know I like the color purple” you tease. Wrapping your fingers around his chin and rolling your thumb over his lower lip. “Especially rusty purple like your skin”

“Shut up, my skin is literally decaying and rotting away, and you find that beautiful?” He scoffs, flicking one of the staples on his arm. “Literal metal is holding my skin together, skin that isn’t alive anymore. I can barely feel you touching me, it’s nothing beautiful. It’s disgusting and ugly”

“Touya—”

“When we kiss, do you know why I only let you kiss my upper lip?” He interrupted you, asking a question of his own before you could back up your argument.

Hesitantly, you answer as your eyes travel down do his lips. “You don’t want me to feel the skin on your lower lip…” the words come past your own lips as low as a whisper. Your thumb still rubbing gently at his bottom lip, the texture rough to the touch, just like the rest of his scarred skin. “Touya, I still feel it whenever we kiss…or whenever you kiss my skin, I feel it. You think I mind?”

Touya stayed quiet, picking at the staples on his arm. He did this whenever he was nervous or uncomfortable…or in your case, flustered.

Beautiful. Gorgeous. Tsk. What a load of bull—

“Stop that! Last time you pulled out one of your staples I needed to use one of my earrings to fix it! And now it’s missing and you still haven’t bought me a new pair!” Your whining pulls him out of his thoughts, a snicker leaving his lips as he stopped pulling at the silver staple on his arm.

Your rambling went on about the missing earring, but he couldn’t care less. Nodding his head as he pretended to be interested, Touya couldn’t stop admiring your face, your hair, your body, the way you talked so passionately about something so small, your voice, the soft glimmer in your eyes whenever you looked at him. He would never consider himself anything close to beautiful, but if you believed it…who was he to disagree?

𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑏𝑦: ★

[bloodyinkandquill]

Folly x Reader

grapes are here!! time to munch, also new merch for something i love me and my best friend are going to get each other it as Christmas gifts! we did the same last year for something else we both love, still one of my favorite shirts i have

- How the hell you managed to bag a nine and a half foot tall primordial being is a mystery to everyone, even you in all honesty

- Folly is interesting to say the least, at first she treated you no different then anyone else but as time went on and she begun to take more of an interest in you, and finding that your kindness towards her was genuine, not any sort of trick, slowly she became less cold and malevolent towards you, eventually it got to a point where if you were having a nightmare she’d use her powers to stop it

- Eventually when you do get together, how official it was is up to debate, she still acts the same bit has a certain kindness to her voice, her insults and hate aren’t actually real, she’s just scared to truly let her guard down around anyone, no matter how much she’s beginning to trust you now, you understand and are very patient with her letting her say bad things since you know she doesn’t truly mean them

- Since she’s so large she picks you up like a plushie or teddy bear, it would be funny if you weren’t squirming as she smirked, we’ll you’re assuming she’s smirking, she doesn’t have a mouth so based on her eyes you assume if she could smirk she would be smirking

- Speaking of her lack of mouth she can’t exactly kiss you, she was very against the idea of you kissing her mask at first, it is one of the most vulnerable parts of her, eventually when she grants you permission you cover her entire mask in kisses, you don’t kiss where it broke though for both of you, she gets very flustered by it and disappears in her cloud of smoke, now though she’s more chill with it, it still does fluster his but if you ask if you can kiss her she lets you, and leans down, or stands next to something you can stand in to reach her face without her having to hunch down more then she already done normally

- On top of holding you like a stuffed animal she doesn’t really do small touches, her touches are go big or go home, holding you mostly, especially since her hands are so large small touches are harder, whenever you try and hold hands you just hold one of her fingers instead, or grab the edge of her sweater sleeve, which like her mask she was hesitant about but less so since it wasn’t broken like her mask

- If Folly can’t be around you she watches you through the aspens, it was really creepy at first since you felt like you were being watched then you realized it was her so you when alone will hug the trees as if hugging her to say thanks for watching over you, it doesn’t get less creepy watching the fake pupils on the trees move to follow you though, you will never get used to that

- Her dates aren’t conventional, they still happen but they’re not the usual dates people think of, some are close but not quite, like tending to a garden, granted it’s a forest of aspens in the dark expanse of where she comes from but it’s close enough, or a sleep over, which just means you fall asleep on her and you do something in your dream together, another is baking, that happens at your place which she doesn’t fit in that well and she can’t eat anything you bake but it’s still nice, she helps you bake and gets stuff on herself that you wipe off with a laugh

- She sometimes tells you of how her home use to look like, beautiful and comforting, it was like a dream, till it became a nightmare, you tell her that even if everything’s changed you love her no matter what she’s gone through, and no matter what she still may go through

- You occasionally visit Wallter with her, he’s the closest thing to a friend she has but she almost always sees him in his dreams, so they don’t usually see each other in person, when they do she does her usual thing of being all edgy and brooding but while discussing poetry and listening to piano music, and pretending to drink tea, she lets you actually drink it she just likes to pretend

- Her love language is closest to quality time, granted most of that time is in your dreams, but based on how often she visits them just to be close to you and spend time with you, so your best assumption is quality time

- She knows many languages, comes from being a primordial being, so if you want to speak in another language or need help learning or translating one she can assist you, her favorite language however is any of the slavic languages, which is why she has a Russian accent, so she enjoys teaching you words in Russian, Ukrainian, Polish, etc

- She makes you read her poetry, you don’t get a choice, you don’t mind but it can be inconvenient sometimes if you’re doing something and suddenly she appears telling you to read the newest poem she wrote, she’s really good at it though so it’s not too much of a bother since it’s an enjoyable read, to some degree, it’s very graphic and disturbing on occasion, or a lot of occasions

- She’s cold to the touch, after the cleaving her body no longer produces natural heat, which is a part of the reason she’s such a big cuddle bug, you’re warm and she quite literally parasites that warmth from you, she’s the kind of person to stick her cold ass hands on your exposed back when you aren’t expecting it making you shout at the sudden freezing touch

- Folly thought she’d never be happy again, she was broken, destroyed, used, abused, she never thought she’d ever feel like how she once did, which maybe she never will, but she has truly started feeling better since meeting you, maybe not truly happy but you do make her feel warm, literally and figuratively, so even if she knows she can never go back to that innocence and joy that once was her entire life she’s getting there

i love folly, not as much as mach but i still love her, and holy shit the cleaving was insane, also literally such a good depiction of a certain type of trauma, iykyk, which props to catjam, also just in general for creating folly, anyways imma probably nap, i am not immune to the afternoon naps

[f1-stuff]

You mentioned omegaverse in the surreal DC reblog where he’s commenting far too much on Charles’s smell lol and it made me wonder if you’ve ever considered writing omegaverse Charlos? Do you have any interest or not so much your thing?

Love your work <33333

Hello! ❤️ I didn't used to be into omegaverse very much tbh, but something clicked in the last couple years and I started to vibe with it a lot more. I actually did start to write an abo charlos fic, that's also a Victorian-era royalty arranged marriage situation (woo that's a mouthful 😂), but I haven't added much to it in a while...

The funny thing is that I find myself forgetting it's abo while writing bc there's so much else going on, and then I have to throw in a line about someone's scent asghfjlslsdk. But anyway, I'm gonna share a little more of it now just because I feel like it's been a while since I posted a fic or a snippet...

“Charles.”

Impatience has crept into his mother’s voice by the second utterance of his name, and yet Charles still takes the time to finish the page he’s reading before clapping the (dreadfully boring) book shut and looking up at her expectantly. As usual, she doesn’t look particularly amused by his stubbornness.

“Charles, I was thinking that perhaps you and I should stay away from the palace for an additional month or so.”

“What?” he frowns. “Why?”

“To rest,” she suggests. “It’s been a very tough week, and you still don’t look well-”

“Maman,” he sighs, rubbing his temple where a headache is starting to form. Of course, he won’t tell her that. “I feel fine. And I’m ready to go home. We already missed Uncle’s birthday. We are not missing Papa’s.”

His mother doesn’t reply. It’s not the first time she’s brought it up, and it won’t be the last, but Charles isn’t losing this particular argument. Not even if he has to escape back to the palace himself. A week away from his father in his poor condition is already too much to bear, let alone the prospect of more time apart.

Charles and his mother’s retreat to their country residence had been unavoidable. The ‘very tough week’ in question is Charles’ heat, which had been brought on early due to the stress he's been under, caused by his numerous advisors' renewed efforts as of late to convince him to sign the regency order. No doubt they’ll be hoping that now, weakened by five days of fever and delirium, he’ll feel further compelled to relinquish his power to a regent in the event of his father’s death before he’s come of age.

It’s never going to happen, and his mother doesn’t need to try to protect him by hiding him away for a month either. She, along with everyone in that damned palace, treats him delicately enough as it is. Ever since he’d presented around eleven years old, he’s been wrapped in cotton wool. But just because he’s an omega doesn’t mean he isn’t perfectly capable of standing up for himself. In fact, he can’t wait to be free of the silly protective measures that were put in place almost seven years ago. The moment he’s crowned, he’s doing away with all of it.

“Really, Charles. I hope you’re not upset we had to come here. You know that it’s for your own safety-”

“Yes, maman, I know,” he interrupts, then sighs and aims a small smile her way to soften his exasperated tone. “I’m not arguing that. But I don’t need any more time to recover. It isn’t as though I do much more than this in the palace, anyway.”

Reading books, painting, playing piano and chess - there isn’t much more that he’s allowed to do. The other activities that his brothers partake in, like horse riding and archery, aren’t permitted for him, nevermind that he performed them just fine before he’d presented. That argument has never worked to convince anyone to grant him allowances because it’s not really about whether he’s capable.

“Well...if you’re certain.”

“I am,” he says, firmly. His mother nods.

Good. That’s settled, then. She speaks again before he has a chance to reopen his book.

“The other thing I’ve been meaning to discuss with you - your uncle has invited the Sainz siblings to come and stay at the palace. You met their two eldest when you were very young, but I’m sure you don’t remember.”

“No,” Charles confirms, intrigued. “Who are they?”

“Their father is a Spanish duke, and his son, Prince Carlos, is just a few years older than you. Unlikely that he will ever inherit the throne, but it is a distant possibility.”

Ah. So a marriage prospect, then. Charles bites back a sigh. From one prison to another.

“You should get to know him better,” his mother says, reading his expression.

“Why?” he asks, just to be difficult. He knows very well why.

“Because. Your Uncle Thierry thinks it’s a good idea.”

Well, if his uncle thinks it, then so it shall be.

Charles sinks further into his chair, grabbing the book he’d set aside and reopening it pointedly. His mother takes the hint. (The book may be a dull one, but at least it serves its purpose as a conversation ender superbly.)

****

“Monaco could be a very important chess piece in future conflicts,” Caco explains, leaning against the table to address his young cousin. “It is under the military protection of France, and having the force of France at our disposal could be instrumental in quelling potential unrest.”

Carlos Junior looks up at him from his seat at the desk, notes of skepticism in his expression. He doesn’t make an objection just yet - his cousin would not be telling him this unless it had come from his father directly.

Caco sets down a piece of paper in front of him. It’s a drawing of a young man who can’t be more than eighteen, his boyish features evident even in sketch form. The other thing that is undeniable is his beauty, a sense of mischief and innocence dancing in his eyes that has Carlos wondering if it’s a faithful representation.

“Is he this pretty in person?”

Caco simply gives him a look, not dignifying that with a response. “That is Prince Charles, heir apparent to the Monegasco throne, seventeen years old. In the next few weeks, you will study everything there is to know about him - his favorite novels, plays, composers. You will brush up on your French-”

“Wait, wait, cousin,” Carlos interjects, blinking in confusion. “What does a prince have to do with me?”

“That omega...” Carlos’ gaze shoots up to his cousin, brows raising. “...has everything to do with you.”

Ah. That changes things, indeed.

“As I was saying,” Caco continues, sighing. “In order to keep the prince safe, he’s been kept sheltered from his father’s court for years, ever since he was a boy. Thus, when he does make a rare public appearance, such as at the opera or ballet, his mere presence causes quite a stir.”

Carlos’ eyes return to the paper in front of him, his gaze tracing a path over the prince’s nose and settling at the elegant curve of his lips.

“You must win his favor before anyone else has the chance,” his cousin says. “The first visit in a few weeks’ time will be vital. We can afford no mistakes. But always remember, you are first and foremost a Sainz. Do not forget the reason behind all of this, no matter how ‘pretty’ his face.”

Carlos tries to bite back his smirk, but likely fails from the look his cousin sends him.

“Charm him, Carlos. Make him smile. God knows you are good at that. The rest will be up to fate.”

[bluejaysandblackbats]

A Stone’s Throw

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: The night Jason wakes up in the convalescent home, he’s accompanied by his favorite nurse (Nurse Kathy). Nurse Kathy follows her instincts and decides to foster him in the nearby city of Blüdhaven. Soon, her partner and roommates become Jason’s new family despite hopes that he’ll regain his memories.

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Original Characters, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon

Additional Tags: Disabled Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Doesn’t Know Jason Todd is Alive, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, Jason Todd Has a Foster Family AU, Jason Todd Moves to Blüdhaven, Original Asexual Characters, Original Lesbian Characters, Amnesiac Jason Todd, “Missed Him By That Much” Trope, Hurt/Comfort, Resurrected Jason Todd

Chapter Three: The Stepparents

Walter was a tall man, slender to the point of frailty as he organized books in a bedroom bookcase. His curly hair was gelled back and shining dark grey in the well-lit living room. His eyes dark and large, staring at the bindings to the books on the top shelf. He pushed his glasses up, warmly sighing as he cocked his head. The doorbell rang, and Walter smiled. “Lover? Is that you?” Walter shouted. 

“It’s Donnovan—. Dodie Hines-Fletcher! You know my father!” Dodie shouted. Walter opened the door. “You’re my father’s boyfriend, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, I am. Would you like a cup of coffee?” Walter asked. Dodie nodded. “You favor him. Your eyes are almost the same. Kind of hazel-ish… But your hair… It’s like your mother’s isn’t it?” 

“Yeah… It’s a weird dark reddish brown,” Dodie answered as he looked around. “How’d you meet my dad?” 

“We met at one of his art galleries. I bought A Conversation in Sage . I thought he was interesting, but I—. I saw the wedding ring. We talked for a while there, and he told me the situation. I was only in town for one night, so I gave him my address, so he could mail the painting to me. He um—. He started sending me letters. I sent some back… And we fell in love,” Walter answered, “Would you like to see the letters he wrote me? They’re lovely.” 

Dodie sat on a crate, politely resting his ankle on his knee. “My father sold A Conversation in Sage when I was six years old. You’re telling me you’ve been his boyfriend for nineteen years?” Dodie questioned. Walter nodded. “And I don’t know… Should I see these? Aren’t they—?”

“Your father and I don’t have a physical relationship… Not in that way. We’ve done nothing more than kiss, and I held his hand once in secret. I’m—. Well, I’m impotent, and your father has no interest in sex,” Walter confessed. Dodie’s eyes widened as he looked away. “Would you like to see them? The letters? ” 

“Sure,” Dodie answered, “So… You’ve known my dad for nineteen years, and I’ve never—. Did my mom know about you?” 

“Yes… I’ve spoken to her several times. I’ve never met her, though,” Walter answered as he handed Dodie a stack of letters. “They’re in order. That’s the first twenty letters he sent me. He has a way with words.” 

Dodie opened the first envelope. “ Dear Walter… I hope I’m not being forward by sending this letter. I’m afraid I find myself thinking of you without meaning to. I carry the image of you around in my spirit. The weight of your absence bears down on my soul. I long for your company. I desire nothing more than to sit beside you, passing the days. Your companionship calls to me. I fear I have nothing of substance to offer you. What I feel may seem juvenile because I am new to this. It would be enough to simply gaze into your eyes and bask in their warmth ,” Dodie read silently to himself. He smiled at Walter. He grabbed the last letter in the stack. 

“ Dearest Walter… It was lovely seeing you. I feel giddy every time I think of what could be. I’m frightened that it will be too much for my heart. I paint pictures of men and women that don’t resemble you but do not be mistaken. All of them are inspired by your spirit. 

“You are my first love. I feel alive saying that. There is nothing more exquisite than this feeling. It might even surpass the taste of food itself. You are everything I could’ve wanted in a companion. I love you. I crave you. I want to hear your laughter and wipe your tears when you cry. Walter, I look forward to the next glance. The next letter. The next earthy-smelling letter. You’re so comforting to my spirit. 

“Thank you for loving me. Thank you for showing me that this could be possible. ”

Dodie looked away, his eyes welling up with tears. 

“God… My dad loves you so much. Sorry—. I—. I was so selfish. I just—.” 

Walter set Dodie’s coffee mug on a crate. “You’re his son. He didn’t want his romantic affairs to be your concern. He was hesitant to mention you. Daniel wanted to protect you from any hardship that he felt his personal life might’ve introduced. You weren’t selfish. You were unaware,” Walter reassured him, “As a young man, it must be a shock.” 

“It is, but I’m getting used to it. You seem like a nice person, though. I don’t know what I expected. I’m still worried about my mom’s girlfriend. Have you met her?” Dodie questioned. Walter nodded. “What’s your opinion of her?” 

“You know Sibyl. I was shocked when I met her, but you’ve probably seen her in passing. What was it like, by the way? I’ve always been curious. Your mother’s a nurse and your father’s an artist. What is that like? Was there any pressure to do one or the other?” Walter questioned. 

“No, not really. I was always an artistic kid… So, I��naturally ended up becoming an architect,” Dodie laughed, “And I sell dollhouses that are replicas of people’s homes sometimes. Mom really enjoys that.” 

“Oh! How did you get into making dollhouses?” Walter questioned. 

“When I was little, my mom used to have this dollhouse that her grandma gave her. Whenever she had a bad day at work, she’d sit beside it in her chair, and open it up. I used to climb into her lap, and she’d guide my fingers over the finer details, telling me stories about dollhouses being piggy banks for memories. Bad and good, ” Dodie answered, “And it stuck. I learned how to make birdhouses, then I learned how to build regular dollhouses. I kept doing more and more until I was making miniature houses.” 

“That’s amazing. I’d like to see some of your work someday,” Walter smiled. A woman entered the house, grunting as she set grocery bags on the ground. Walter held a finger up as he went to meet her in the family room.

“Dodie’s here. You should introduce yourself,” Walter whispered. 

“Is he upset?” she whispered. 

“No, he’s a lovely kid. Go on. I’ll get the groceries,” Walter replied. 

The woman stepped into the family room, taking off her powder blue heels and walking toward the young man. Her silvery curls were pulled back into a ponytail. The woman was buxom and older, but not so old that he didn’t recognize her face. “Hi, Deanie. Do you remember me at all?” she asked. Her voice was so sweet, it immediately sent Dodie back to his childhood. “You didn’t know me as Sibyl. I think you knew me as—.”

“Ms. Graves… This one is a little—. My dad—. We—. You were the model for my dad’s photography phase. Mom never spoke to you. Not once. I would’ve remembered. I practically lived in Dad’s art studio back then,” Dodie stated. He squinted as he tried to remember a time when his mother and Sibyl could’ve met.

“Dodie, I used to invite your mom for dinner when you and Daniel went to the movies,” Sibyl replied, “We were very discreet… The furniture people are on their way. So, we’ll have a couch in a little bit. Are you staying for dinner? Kathy said she’s going to cook.” Dodie nodded.

[highslover]

Maeve’s storyline but right!

I have always though the Maeve plot line didn’t made sense and recently I read a fic (spencer reid x reader) where reader was a serial killer of serial rword and I thought how much better that could’ve been.

Maeve’s plot line was weak in many ways. My biggest pet peeve is that it was that aggressive from the start and Spencer did nothing, which I don’t find in character. That meaning her stalker (Diane).

Let’s assume his first consult with Maeve was pretty normal, how could he imagine she had a stalker? But in order to keep talking to her they went through using letters first. And maybe Spencer thought it was romantic and interesting, but pseudonyms? That’s a bit much.

Spencer knew all along about her stalker, he tells Hotch that much after she goes missing. So you are telling me Spencer found out this girl he likes isn’t leaving her house, she is hot using her phone and is using letters to communicate with pseudonyms to protect herself and didn’t do something? I agree he might’ve been respecting her wishes, but by this time Spencer has been working with the FBI 9 years, he is not naive as he was, he is a social protector, it just doesn’t makes sense he let it go that far.

Again, from the beginning is crucial here because I don’t think he would’ve let it slide just like that. If it had grown progressively while they were together, yes maybe their attachment would’ve clouded his reasoning, but by the time they started talking Diane had made Maeve quit her job and broke up with her fiancé so??? It just doesn’t make sense for HIS character. I believe that at leasttt he would’ve investigated by himself.

But non of that happened so the plot just doesn’t cut it. Instead, if it would’ve been a serial killer? That’s interesting.

Point 1. A serial killer who kills men that are serial rapist is in many ways human. It’s imposible to not like as audience. And Spencer is often the one who empathizes with the criminals (lol beautiful baby 🥺).

Point 2. Her story could’ve been a great episode, we could’ve seen how smart she was (something from Meave’s character) but at the same time how traumatized she was, her story, how evil are the men she kills. She could’ve been the same age as Spence, he could’ve done the interview, connect, blah, blah, blah.

Point 3. I think they could’ve find a way were they didn’t have anything to really hold the case, victims (of the men) not pressing charges and friends who offer alibis for her. So she makes a deal with Spencer because she is also tired and she knows she cannot stop. A letter once a month because she likes his big brain.

Point 4. She is arrested but gets her letter and Spencer gets his, where she is smart and interesting and whatever. Out of nowhere they are writing themselves not just once a month. And they talk every sunday. (Again part of Maeve storyline, everything was there!!!!) (Also I think she could’ve been an assistant for a geneticist and help him with his migraines)

Point 5. And everything is good and they form a bond but Spencer would never admit he likes her and maybe even feels something more, because he is a good guy. But in this time he starts to read every philosopher that has written about good and bad (also talk it with Blake!! best part of the Maeve plot).

Point 6. After this we are only missing her dying and I wish I remember the name of the fic but something similar could happen. In the fic she scapes prison with help and goes to find Spencer because she knows of a human trafficking organization and she wants to liberate them, so she kinda kidnaps Spencer and they go there. Because she wanted to do it, deep down Spencer knows this a suicidal mission for her.

Point 7. They get there, she gets kill by local police but she saves women and children and got to spend her last day or two with Spencer, the only person that made her wished everything she did never happened and maybe she could’ve have a great life.

And ta-da! we traumatized Spencer with an interesting plot that makes sense (at least for me). And far more complex I think, something that maybe even MGG would’ve like. But who knows, is this against copaganda???