#have i been saving this in my drafts for six months? maybe

[avocadorablepirate]

Unspoken Affections

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: Falling for the captain of the Heart Pirates a.k.a your captain, was something unexpected, something that shouldn’t have happened. So to suppress those growing feelings one must resort to avoidance. But alas, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, short mention of a near death experience, reader refuses to confront her feelings, not fully proofread (let me know if there’s anything else)

A/N: This and another fic have been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I finally managed to finish this one, though it’s kinda all over the place. I was listening to my Taylor Swift playlist practically on repeat when I wrote this. So, if you want something to listen to while you read this I would recommend Slut, Daylight and Cruel Summer, but honestly any Taylor Swift song would probably work.

I swear I’ll rewrite that summary once I can think of something better :’)

You were not sure when it had started. Your heart racing at just the sight of him. Maybe it was in his little gestures. The little ways in which he helped you without expecting anything in return, like wordlessly helping you fix things around the ship when he knew you had trouble with it. The way he made sure you were comfortable, like simply giving you a reassuring smile when you needed it most. Whatever it was, you knew you had fallen hard.

It first occurred to you unfortunately after a near miss with death. You had joined the Heart Pirates on their journey through the Grand Line about six months ago, and while you had become akin to battles with rival pirate crews, this particular one had shaken you to your core. The opposing crew had been ruthless, and their relentless assault left you feeling more and more helpless as the fight progressed. The magnitude of the fight, combined with the unpredictability of the rival crew’s movements, had pushed you to the edge both figuratively and literally.

You had been cornered by the enemy, and in a desperate attempt to escape, you had slipped. As you plummeted into the giant chasm behind you, fear consumed you. The wind roared in your ears, and your stomach churned as you braced yourself for the inevitable impact that would surely mean your end. The seconds seemed to stretch, the world slowing down as you watched the surface above you get further and further away in slow motion.

Your only saving grace was your Captain's ability to shift objects, and he had done just that, transporting you back onto the Polar Tang where him and the rest of the crew had managed to escape onto.

The cold, metallic walls of the submarine pressed against your back as you fell to the floor in relief, but despite the safety, anxiety continued to build inside you. Your breath came in ragged, uncontrollable gasps. You could hear the muffled voices of your crewmates calling out to you, but they seemed distant. Your vision blurred, and the room spun around you. It wasn’t until a strong, steady hand reached out to you that the figure of your captain finally came into focus.

Trafalgar Law knelt beside you, his concern etched into his features. His touch was gentle yet firm, grounding you in that chaotic moment, and his voice, steady and reassuring, cut through the haze of panic.

"Hey, easy now," he murmured, his hand on your shoulder. "Everything will be okay. You’re safe now."

You managed a shaky nod, trying to regain your composure. His presence was enough to ease the tightness in your chest, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. As you steadied yourself against him, you couldn't help but notice how his eyes had softened with genuine worry, his concern evident even in the dim light of the submarine.

"Thank you," you finally managed to whisper, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions.

He offered you a reassuring smile, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you realized just how much his actions and presence had come to mean to you. It wasn't just admiration or gratitude; it was something more, something that had taken root in the chaos of the Grand Line, and something you knew you had to keep hidden.

xxxx

Over the next few days, Law made it a habit to check in on you. You would know by the distinct knock on your bedroom door who was on the other side. Be it just before breakfast or well into the night when he knew you stayed awake too, he was there, outside your door, concern etched on his face as he did a once over of you. And every time he would - asking the simple question of how you were, your heart would flutter uncomfortably. You appreciated his care, and found yourself increasingly drawn to him. But it also stirred emotions you hadn’t anticipated. Emotions you knew you shouldn’t have been feeling for your captain.

“The Captain again?” came Ikkaku’s voice, as you yet again leant against your shared bedroom door after tonight’s encounter with Law. You nodded your head, letting out a sigh as you pushed yourself off the door and flopped down on your bed. “I don’t know how much longer I can handle this.”

“You know there’s nothing wrong with liking him, right?” Ikkaku said as she sat up in her bed. Another routine that had started over the past couple of days were your nightly chats with Ikkaku. It had started almost immediately after she saw you return from your first “check-up” with Law, completely flustered. And having put two and two together, had come to the conclusion that you had finally realised that you liked Law as more than just a captain or friend.

"I know, but I can’t," you almost cried in frustration as you clenched the bed sheet in your hands. The fear of what your feelings might mean for your position on the ship, and for your relationship with Law, was overwhelming and impossible to comprehend.

“And why not?” Ikkaku pressed gently, her curiosity piqued as she tried to understand your dilemma.

“Well for starters he’s my captain, that would be insubordination. Not to mention there’s no way in hell that he likes me as well.” You sat up, your face a mix of distress and resignation as you met her gaze, the hopelessness of your situation sinking in. The thought of confessing your feelings only to be rejected was terrifying.

“I need to get rid of these feelings quickly,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. The stress of the situation weighed heavily on your shoulders, your mind racing for a solution. You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but the thought of losing what little connection you had with Law was equally unbearable.

Ikkaku nodded, though she looked a bit hesitant. “I’m not completely for it, but if you’re determined to get rid of them, maybe you should try keeping your distance from him. It might help you sort out your feelings.” Her suggestion was cautious, but her eyes reflected her hope that it would help you find some peace. She didn’t fully agree with it, but she wanted to support you in whatever way she could.

“That might just work,” you said, relief washing over you. You were willing to try anything to escape this lovelorn feeling, even if it meant avoiding the person who made you feel safest. The prospect of distancing yourself from Law was painful, but you hoped it would give you just what you needed to sort things out.

xxxx

For the first couple of days avoiding Law was surprisingly manageable. You had an endless list of excuses, and navigating around the submarine to avoid him wasn’t that difficult. He spent most of his time in his quarters or in the infirmary anyway, and if you did happen to see him coming down the hall, you would quickly turn the other way before he noticed. When you did have to speak to him, you kept your interactions with him to a minimum, giving short, polite responses whenever he spoke to you.

But then it got difficult. You could see that he was slowly starting to see through your excuses. His sharp, observant nature made it hard to deceive him for long. The slight disappointment in his eyes after each excuse made your heart wrench. It was subtle, a flicker of emotion that he quickly masked, but you noticed it every time. The guilt gnawed at you, making it harder to avoid him without feeling like you were betraying his trust. Each day became a struggle to maintain the distance you thought you needed, the effort draining your energy and resolve.

So tonight, when you heard the familiar knock at your door, you couldn’t bring yourself to face him. You hated that you had to do this, but you were adamant, and had convinced yourself that it would only be for a little longer. Just until your feelings had completely gone.

Ikkaku answered the door in your stead, not failing to notice the slight dismay in Law’s gaze when it landed on her. His usual calm demeanor seemed to falter for a moment, a twitch of concern and confusion crossing his features.

“Hey Captain what do you need?” she asked, peeping her head through the little gap she had made between the door and its frame. She tried to sound as casual as possible, hoping it would put him at ease. However, she could see the wheels turning in his mind, already questioning why she had answered the door instead of you.

“Is Y/N-ya inside?” Law asked as he tried to catch a glimpse into the room but Ikkaku was quick to block his view. His voice held a hint of impatience, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to look past her.

“She is but she’s not feeling well,” Ikkaku responded, hoping her excuse would be enough to satisfy his concern without raising too many questions.

Law frowned slightly. “What’s wrong? Does she need help?” His voice was tinged with worry, his eyes lingering on the door as if hoping you might come out and speak to him. His concern was genuine, his protective instincts kicking in. He hated feeling helpless, especially when it came to the well-being of his crew.

“Uhh,” Ikkaku stuttered, trying to think of what to say next. “Yeah, you know, just a visit from Aunt Flo.” She cringed inwardly, knowing it was a terrible excuse, but hoping it would suffice.

Law quirked an eyebrow, but ultimately brushed aside her words with a curt nod. “Alright. Tell her I hope she feels better soon.”

“Will do Captain!” Ikkaku replied with forced cheer, her voice tinged with a touch of nervousness, before she briskly closed the door, leaning against it, as she let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, I think that went well,” she said, turning to you. She tried to smile, but there was a hint of worry in her eyes.

“A visit from Aunt Flo!?” you exclaimed, half exasperated, half amused. You couldn’t believe the excuse she had come up with, but you were grateful nonetheless. The absurdity of the situation almost made you laugh, a brief respite from the constant anxiety.

“It was the best I could come up with!” Ikkaku defended herself, throwing her hands up in mock surrender.

“It’s fine. At least he didn’t press any further,” you responded with a hint of a chuckle, feeling relieved.

Satisfied with the outcome of today’s excuse, you sank onto your bed, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders. The small victory felt like a reprieve. That victory, however, didn’t last very long.

The next day when Bepo met you in the kitchen for breakfast, you found yourself back to square one.

“Hey Y/N, Captain wanted me to give this to you,” Bepo said, handing you a small pouch.

“Thanks,” you replied, opening the bag to look at its contents. Inside was a strip of tablets and a little note that had been written, scratched out, and rewritten again. It read: "I hope you’re feeling better. These should help with your cramps."

You could feel your heart pounding, as if desperate to just pop out of your chest. The thoughtfulness of the gesture, the care in his words, made your resolve waver. You knew you couldn't keep this up forever, but the fear of confronting your feelings was still too overwhelming.

xxxx

Law wasn’t dense. He could easily read every single one of his crew, and he knew you were avoiding him. But why? He didn’t have an answer to that.

He found his usual connection with his crew slipping, particularly when it came to you. At first, he didn't think much of your evasive behaviour, attributing it to stress or fatigue or a visit from Aunt Flo, as Ikkaku had so wonderfully put it. But as days turned into weeks, he couldn't ignore the growing sense of unease gnawing at him.

Each excuse, chipped at his confidence and fueled his anxiety. He noticed the subtle shifts in your demeanor - how you avoided eye contact, how your conversations with him grew increasingly terse and formal. It bothered him more than he cared to admit. With no indirect way to uncover your reasons, his logical mind spiraled into illogical conclusions, each worse than the last.

Days passed, and his worry only intensified, causing his temper to flare more easily. Tensions were high on the Polar Tang; even the smallest mistake would rattle the captain, and the crew had to bear the brunt of it.

It was only on Shachi’s request that they finally got a chance to step away from the tension, and let some steam off. And that’s how Law found himself at a bar in the town they had docked at, watching you closely. Despite being surrounded by the lively chatter of his crew and the raucous energy of the bar, all he could do was focus on you. His sharp eyes caught the fleeting glances you threw his way, the way your laughter seemed forced, and how you tensed whenever his eyes met yours. His frustration grew, but so did his concern. And when he saw you leave, visibly upset, he knew he couldn’t sit back any longer and watch his relationship with you dissolve into nothing, knowing he could have done something about it.

The decision to follow you was immediate and driven by a mix of worry, frustration, and something deeper - something he wasn't ready to fully acknowledge - yet.

xxxx

A couple of weeks had passed since you started avoiding Law, and the strain of your self-imposed distance was beginning to show. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold out, and for whatever reason today had been particularly difficult. So, when Shachi had suggested that the crew unwind at a lively bar in a bustling port town, you were all for it. Terrible mistake on your part really.

While you had thought that a night out drinking was just what you needed to distract you from your inner turmoil, it was certainly not what the doctor wanted to prescribe. In fact, it seemed that he wanted you to only continue with this wretched feeling, when he entered the bar. But why wouldn’t the captain be with his crew? You realised you hadn’t thought this through only when you felt your heart tighten painfully in your chest.

As the night progressed, you did your best to keep your distance, sticking mainly to Ikkaku and whoever wasn’t around Law. However, he still posed as a problem, your eyes kept drifting towards him, unable to help yourself. God…of all the shirts he owned, why did he have to wear that black button down that clung to him so well?

At one point, you noticed a group of girls approach Law’s table. They were giggling and clearly intrigued by the mysterious captain. You noticed the surge of irritation on his face when one of them leaned in close, her hand resting on his arm as she spoke to him, and you couldn’t help but be amused by your captain’s obvious annoyance. However, as he continued to barely engage in conversation with them, his responses brief and his gaze often wandering away from them, you couldn’t stop your stomach from twisting with jealousy, an emotion you hadn't expected to feel so intensely.

Despite his apparent disinterest, the sight of them fawning over him was too much for you to handle. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the jealousy and frustration slowly brewing inside you making it harder to think clearly. Needing to escape, you excused yourself from your crewmates and slipped out of the bar, the cool night air hitting your flushed face as you made your way back to the Polar Tang.

On the quiet deck of the submarine you found solace. Free from the loud noises of the bar, and the chaos within it, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling within you. You were starting to realise that avoiding Law clearly wasn’t the solution, but confronting your feelings still felt like a hopeless challenge. Your mind raced to find another way.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you knew that voice; it made your breath hitch. Turning around you saw Law coming towards you, his expression serious but speckled with concern. You cursed at yourself for not hearing his footsteps approaching.

“Captain, what are you doing here?” Your heart skipped a beat, your anxiety slowly bubbling below the surface.

“I saw you leave in a hurry, so I thought I would check up on you. Is everything okay?” Law asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

You shook your head slightly, suddenly unable to trust your voice as a lump formed in your throat. Silence settled between you, stretching on until Law finally broke it with a gentle inquiry.

“Y/N-ya,” he called out your name hesitantly, voice tinged with apprehension, “why have you been avoiding me?”

You stiffened at his words, and opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words you wanted to say were trapped, tangled up with your emotions, and his piercing gaze that held you in place, wasn’t of much help either. You could see the worry in his eyes intensify with each passing second of your silence, his brows knitting together as he waited for an answer that seemed too difficult to give.

“Do you want to leave the crew?” he asked, his tone steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. The idea of you leaving clearly troubled him more than he let on, and your heart sank at the implication. “No, it’s not that,” you finally managed to say, voice trembling.

“Then what is it? Are you scared because of what happened to you when we were fighting those pirates?” There was a hint of desperation in Law’s tone, his need to understand and help you evident. His eyes searched yours, pleading for an explanation, and you could see how much he wanted to make things right even if he didn’t fully grasp what was wrong.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and gather the courage to say something, anything. “No…I-I just need some time to sort things out.”

Law watched you intently, as if trying to decipher the emotions flickering across your face. “You know you can tell me anything right?” he said in a soft voice, his eyes never leaving yours, and you let out a bitter laugh at that.

“This is something I don’t think I can,” you said, the weight of the impending confession settling over you.

Law’s brow furrowed, the concern in his eyes deepening. “Why not? What’s so bad that you can’t talk to me about it?” He sounded frustrated, almost begging you to tell him.

You took a deep breath, your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. "It's just...complicated," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to burden you with it."

"It's not a burden if it's about you," he replied softly, his eyes searching yours as he stepped closer to you. “Please, Y/N-ya, tell me what’s wrong.”

His words broke through the last of your resistance, and you realized you couldn't keep this inside any longer. You owed it to yourself and to him to be honest. Taking another deep breath, you finally found the courage to speak.

"Law, I've been avoiding you because…because I-I like you, and I don’t know how to handle it, and I thought staying away would make it easier, but it hasn't. But I promise I’ll figure out a better way to deal with these feelings if you just give me some time."

For a moment, there was silence, and you held your breath as you waited for his response. Then, to your surprise, Law reached out his hand, gently lifting your chin until your eyes met his. "It's okay," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. His expression was soft and understanding, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I've been worried about you," he said, his voice tender. "I've been thinking about you constantly, wondering if you were okay. And to tell you the truth, it’s made me realise that I like you too."

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, hope blooming within you. "You…you do?" you managed, unable to believe it.

He nodded slowly, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when he noticed your surprise. "I didn't want to push you," he explained softly. "I thought if I did, you would only have more reason to leave, and I couldn't stand the thought of that happening.”

Relief flooded through you, mingled with a newfound surge of courage. "I wasn't going to leave," you admitted, your voice steadier now. "I was just afraid…of what I was feeling."

Law's smile widened, his eyes warm and sincere. "You don't have to be afraid," he assured you, his hand moving to hold yours, while his other remained caressing your cheek. "Because I feel it too."

In that moment, the tension that you had felt in your chest eased, replaced by a sense of overwhelming happiness. Feeling a sense of peace settle over you, you leaned into his touch.

"I'm glad," you whispered, unable to stop the smile that spread across your face. The warmth in his eyes made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but let your affection for the man standing before you surge.

Law mirrored your smile, his gaze tender as he leaned closer. "Me too," he murmured, before closing the distance between you in a soft, lingering kiss.

Had to add an unnecessary little bit about Law’s shirt cause damn it I love Law in that shirt.

Thus starts my slow attempt to get my other fics out of my drafts. Let’s hope this determination lasts longer cause knowing me I’m going to give up by tomorrow…anyway, I hope you liked this!

[mshalfemptygirl]

The Prince Agent (S.R)

Plot: Reader is called to help Spencer with a case and things get too cute.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Dr!Fem!Reader

Contents: Really quicky mention to kidnapping and lots of fuffy

A/N: guys it’s my first fic, so let me know if you guys liked it, if you need a part 2. There are some translations at the end for you to understand the fic. Just give support and love. Thank you very much. Enjoy! 

I never knew exactly where linguistics was going to take me, but this is too much. I was at the police station, dressed an updated version of what it was meant to be Mary Stuart all because I helped my teacher with an Scotch Language Class this afternoon. You know, I'm in the postdoctoral program and sometimes we need to help our teacher and that's mean look ridiculous when they ask you to do a "favor" to them. So, I'm here, next to the door, feeling lost and angry for not have time to change my outfit. They said that just need to find an Agent called Dr. Spencer Reid to translate a little girl who was saved by the team. It gonna be easy, but no.

I notice that there is a man looking at me, he’s next to bullpens with some paper in his right hand. He is tall and very handsome by the way. In fact, he's wearing a tie that makes him look really HOT but I can't think about those things at such a delicate moment like this, I need to focus. I walked towards him, looking at the floor because in addition to the long dress, I was wearing high heels and I didn't want to embarrass myself in the middle of the police station. When I stopped in front of him, he put the papers on the table and gave me a small smile.

“Excuse me, where can I find Dr. Spencer Reid?” I returned the smile, wishing it was him.

“Well, right here. I’m Dr Spencer Reid, nice to meet you. You should be Dr. Y/N L/N. Or maybe Princess Y/N L/N?” he give me a big smile. “Can you follow me?” I felt my face burn, he was making fun of me and it made me a thousand times more nervous. I start follow him to the hallway with many rooms, the walls were white and light blue, there is a clock on the wall.

“Sorry, I didn’t have time for change. And It supposed to be Mary Stuart. So it’s Queen Y/N L/N”. He nodded while he run his hand over his hair. He stopped to think about something. Even nervous, I can't take my eyes off him. “Did you know that Mary became Queen of Scots at only six days of age and Mary’s last night was spent drafting an elaborate will in which all her servants were remembered. On the day of her execution, she appeared in her customary black cloak and with a white veil over her head and she then dropped the cloak to reveal a crimson red dress?” he ask me, I can see the excited in his face. I couldn't help but smile big, he's so endearing, so cute. I think he's trying to make me more comfortable.

“Yes!!! And she also was the first woman to practice golf in Scotland. She even caused a scandal when she was seen playing the game at St Andrews within days of her husband Darnley's murder. She was a such badass, I like her” I said. Then I remember about the little girl, they must have been in a hurry to help her. “But Dr. Reid, changing the subject, can we talk about the little girl? What you want me to do?” the expression on his face changed from a happy face to a worried one.

He explained to me that she was only 6 years old, she is physically fine and she was rescued from a kidnapping a few hours ago, they couldn't find her family and they couldn't ask her questions because she only speaks Portuguese. That's why they called me. It looks like his team has been looking into this possible unsub for months. Well, now I'm more relieved to be dressed like this, she deserves a good time in the middle of this chaos, I hope she likes princesses. Doctor Reid will walk me into the room so I can be the bridge between him and Mila.

I was the first to enter the room, there were some children's things on a table in the corner of the room. In the center of the room was a shaggy green rug and a table. Mila was drawing on the table, she had her back to me, focused on drawing and there is another blonde woman in the room with her, it must be another agent. She got up and wished him good luck. I looked at him and he nodded for me to start.

"Oi Mila, me falaram que tinha uma princesa por aqui” ¹ she looked at me and took to give me a hug. She got really excited saying several things at the same time, I sat with her on the floor and she played with my hair. That's when she realized that Dr. Reid was in the room and her face was etched with fear. “Mila, ele não vai te fazer mal, ele é muito legal! Sabe, o nome dele é Spencer e ele é meu principe. Ele é meu cavaleiro que me protege de coisas ruins e ele protege princesas como você também. Então ele não vai te fazer mal. Okay?” ²

She waved at me and I gave her a smile. I called Spencer over and he sat on the other side of the table. I translated for him what I said to her and it was like that for 40 minutes. Mila was no longer afraid of him, she gave as much information as possible about the man who took her and she also talked about her family. When she was scared, she squeezed my hand really tight and I told her that everything was going to be alright. Now, she going to draw two drawings for us. “Y/N, I will pass the information for Agent Garcia so she can start the search. You helped a lot. Thank you. Can you stay with her?" I nodded to him. “Mila, diz “Bye, Spencer”, ele precisa ir agora” ³.

“NÃO! Ele tem que dar um presente para você. Ele é seu principe, não é? Vocês tem que casar e viver felizes para sempre” ⁴ At that moment my heart beat faster. Holy shit, how was I going to translate this to him?! I can feel the presure. If I was avoiding embarrassing myself, now is the time. She was looking for something in the toy box, she walked to Spencer and gave him a plastic ring. She just pointed at the ring and then at me. We looked at each other not knowing what to do. I was in PANIC. “Spencer, I think she wants us to get married. You don’t have to. Sorry, I can explain to her that...”.  

“Oh, don't worry, I can give you the ring. Give me your left hand" I held out my hand to him and when he touched me I feel a good feeling. His hand are so soft. Looking right into Mila's face who seemed very happy with our misfortune. "Right, we are married. I’m married to a queen. I have to go now but can we talk after this, my lady?" he said after kissing the ring on my hand. Damn, he obviously has a hold on me."Yes, we can, Prince Agent Reid". Then I give him a smirk and he left the room. I show Mila my hand, she was happy for the first time in days and I was thinking how lucky I would be if this fairytale were true.

1 Hi Mila, someone told me there was a princess around here.

2 Mila, he won't hurt you, he's really nice! You know, his name is Spencer and he's my prince. He is my knight who protects me from bad things and he protects princesses like you too. So he won't hurt you. OK?.

3 Mila, say “Bye Spencer”, he needs to go.

4 NO! He has to give you a gift. He's your prince, isn't he? You have to get married and live happily ever after.

[crappymixtape]

love will keep us alive

BONUS V2 OF A REQUEST → ❝ angst prompt: “do you regret it?” this has been sitting in my drafts for LITERAL MONTHS and i just need to set it freeeee | ( 1.3k – a sprinkle of angst, a sprinkle of fluff, all the feelings, established relationship, eddie x reader )

L O V E W I L L K E E P U S A L I V E 🎶 love you, flowerovlove

You knew money was always a dealbreaker for relationships. You watched it happen with your own parents. Watched them go through it all and in the end get divorced because your dad spent too much money and your mom couldn’t handle it. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get into the same situation, not with Eddie, but here you were.

Paying for rent and utilities had been fine, you put a little gas in the car when you could, and you were even able to buy a six pack of beer every now and then, but somehow this month you were short. Somehow the water bill came and there wasn’t enough.

The statement came in the mail with big red letters stamped across the front, OVERDUE, but Eddie waved you off.

Don’t we have it on autopay, babe? Must be a mistake.

So you left it alone, but when you woke up in the morning to take a shower before work? Nothing came out of the shower head.

Towel tucked under your arms you stormed out into the living room, cold and angry, to find Eddie posted up on the couch. So casual. Reading a Thrasher magazine with the TV on in the background.

“So. The water’s off,” your tone was short, clipped and sharp enough to pull Eddie’s attention away from the magazine. Brows pinching together in confusion as he swung his legs off the couch to look at you properly.

“Huh? Sweetheart, what d’you mean off?“ he asked, looked up at you with those big brown eyes and you bit your lips in to try and stop yourself from raising your voice.

“The water is off, as in the water company turned it off,” you said again, frustration swelling in your chest, “I thought you said it was on autopay?”

“Well, yeah,” he started off confidently, so sure. “We set that up when we moved in and put it in your name and–” but he drifted off at the end of his sentence and his cheeks grew warm. Hot and embarrassed and he buried his face in his hands with a groan.

You’d split the utilities up when you two moved in together, especially since you had separate bank accounts, and as Eddie ticked them off in his head – internet, garbage, phone – he realized the water wasn’t under your name. It was under his. And this month had been tight.

Working at the bar was decent most of the time. Tips were good and Eddie’s regulars took care of him, but lately? It has been really slow. Slower than usual and it was hard for Eddie to remember to save during times like that.

No grabbing coffee on his way out in the morning. No beers with Steve after he got done at family video. No buying the kids new dice or a playbook for Hellfire, but he always got caught up in the moment and shit. This time he’d lost track.

“I’m so sorry babe,“ his voice was muffled as he spoke into his hands, tentatively lifting his head to look at you, “Can we maybe cover it from your account this month?“

You felt your cheeks grow hot, heat spreading from your chest across your neck and up to your ears. Your lips twisted with a frown, a deep scowl, so damn frustrated and tired of looking at your bank account and seeing five dollars left.

“No! We can’t! There’s no money there either,” you sighed, emotions starting to get the better of you as your throat grew tight and it just felt so off.

You were standing in the living room with nothing but a towel on. Any other time Eddie would’ve been on you in a second. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down into his lap. Pressing his lips to your neck, your collarbone and the curves of your hips, but instead you were arguing.

Eddie felt his chest squeeze with guilt, with the weight of all this stupid responsibility and the fact that it was all his fault. He was your boyfriend! He was supposed to take care of you! You were in this together and yet he wasn’t holding up his side of the deal and you were so upset and late for work and fighting and–

He swallowed thick, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, chewed his bottom lip between his teeth and held his breath.

“D’you regret it?” he asked, deep, brown eyes, flicking up to meet your own so hurt and sad, so fucking sorry.

Your stomach twisted. Flipped over with his question and your expression softened, “Regret it?“

“Yeah. Do you regret me?“

And with those four little words you felt your anger start to ebb.

Yeah. You were standing in your living room with just a towel on. No running water. Late for work and five dollars in your bank account, but the way he was looking at you made you hesitate. Had you sounded like you were done? Done enough that he thought you didn’t want to be with him anymore? And that’s when something in you shifted.

Your parents weren’t good for each other and your dad spent too much money and it made your mom so angry, but that wasn’t the only thing.

He didn’t listen to her.

Didn’t stay up late when she was worried and couldn’t sleep.

Didn’t run out to get a box of tampons when she got her period.

Didn’t ask her about her day and didn’t rub her feet and didn’t surprise her with pizza after a shitty day at work.

Didn’t tell her how much he loved her every single day. Didn’t kiss her once as he went out the door and again when he came back in to say how much he already missed her.

Eddie loved you, and yeah you were short on money, but you weren’t short on love. And at the end of the day? Even though love didn’t pay the bills, it sure as hell would help you figure it out. Because while money came and went, this kind of love didn’t.

Crossing the room still in your towel, you sat down next to Eddie on the couch. Took his hand in yours and held it tightly in your lap. “Eddie,” you said softly, taking his chin in your free hand and tilting it up so you could see him. “I would never regret this,” you said, hoping he understood just how serious you were. Hoping you heard every word you said, knowing that you meant it. “I just wish I could take a shower,“ you half-joked and he snorted, but then dropped his gaze back down to your hands.

God, the guilt was heavy.

“I’m really fucking sorry, babe.”

“S’okay,” you smiled, pressed a hand to his cheek and pulled his eyes back up to meet yours. “You just can’t buy the kids any more dice and you definitely don’t need any more manuals for hellfire. And maybe you can start learning how to brew your own beer?“ your tone teased him at the end and it pulled a little laugh out of him. “We’ll figure it out, right?”

“Yeah. I can pick up extra shifts at the bar and I’ll start putting my tips in a jar under the bed. A little savings in case the water gets turned off again,” he gave you a half-grimace, half-smile, “Too soon?”

“Too soon.”

“Sorry–listen–I’m part of this relationship too and I just wanna take care of you, honey,” and the way he was looking at you told you he couldn’t have been more serious.

“You always take care of me,“ you said leaning into him, resting your forehead against his and those unruly curls, “And I don’t regret it, Eds. Not even a little bit. “

And then Eddie closed the gap between you. Pressed his lips soft to yours in a quiet promise. Felt something plant itself in his chest and start to bloom and in that moment he knew he wanted to grow and not stay stagnant.

“I love you, sweetheart. I love you so damn much."

crappymixtape™ • eddie munson masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[bigalockwood]

August and Rousseau

I’ve outed myself as the #resident horse expert (thanks @youngroyalsconfession for the title I’m genuinely elated bc I’ve never gotten my own online moniker lmao) and I think it’s time that I contributed some more unasked for and useless horse knowledge to the YR discussion. This has been sitting in my drafts for ages and since I don’t see myself finding any time to research this further in the next few weeks, I thought I might as well post it before season 3 drops. Plenty of posts have been made about how the August-Rousseau situation could play out, and I don’t want to talk about those theories today, because I have anything to add right now.

As has been pointed out many times, horses are expensive, at least in western, industrialized countries. They used to be a necessity for most people, because they were a mode of transport, used to harvest food etc. This is still true in many parts of the world, but not Western and Northern Europe. There, horses have become a luxury, and are usually notoriously expensive, especially if you can’t keep them on your own grounds and produce your own hay. And even then- vet bills are painful to look at, and there are plenty of other costs, too. So, August most definitely won’t be able to pay for the monthly expenses that come with having a horse, at least not if he gets no financial aid by the court or doesn’t sell some of his assets. And even then, I’m not sure what they would say when they learn that they are financing a horse of all things (especially since August has zero interest in or knowledge of horses). In the following you can find a rough overview of just how expensive owning a horse is. Keep in mind, these numbers are generalized. I’m not from Sweden, but another European country, and even if I were, prices fluctuate a lot depending on the success of harvest, proximity to large cities, services offered by the stable, etc.… But maybe it can give those of you less familiar with horses a better idea of just how fucked August actually is.

Stable: this variable is already very hard to judge. You can find fairly cheap barns, but you usually have to do at least part of the work yourself, too (just imagine August mucking out Rousseau’s stall lmao). Feed is often included in the price, doesn’t cover any special needs, though (hay is included, but anything else you have to buy yourself). However, Hillerska is a prestigious school. They have a groom (our beloved Marcus) to take care of everything the owners don’t want to do (mucking out, feeding, taking horses out to the pastures and then back inside). You can find yourself with anywhere between 200- 600 Euros per month, depending on the services offered. Knowing what we do about Hillerska, you can expect the cost to be at the higher end.

The farrier should come every six to eight weeks and, again, costs depend on what work needs to be done. It can be anywhere between 50 Euro (bare hoof, only need to be trimmed) to close to 200 Euro (horse shoes for all four hooves). As long as Rousseau isn’t being exercised he’ll most likely only need a trim. 

Insurance depends greatly on your horse and its value (it’s hinted that he is valuable in the show) but generally costs between 50 to 150 Euro per month where I’m from.

Vet costs (assuming your horse is healthy and you only need to get the recommended vaccinations and check-up’s as well as anthelmintics) will usually be around 400 Euros a year and can go way up, depending on whether your horse has any special needs. Rousseau seems to be healthy, so we’ll assume he only needs the bare minimum.

Based on what he definitely needs to buy/pay for, the annual cost would be somewhere between 3400 and 12.400 Euro. Which is a super rough estimate and doesn’t even cover any extra expenses (Rousseau most certainly doesn’t only eat hay but also other feed specifically for sport horses). A horse can easily cost up to 21.400 Euro per year. August saves some money because he doesn’t take any training sessions and thus doesn’t need to pay for a trainer. He could also lend Rousseau to the school and let other students ride him; a deal like that would reduce how much he needs to pay for the monthly care of Rousseau.

But either way: August has to pay between 295 and 1800 Euro per month. If he wasn’t struggling financially, he probably wouldn’t even notice such a “small” expense. As it is, he can’t even pay his own tuition. There’s no way he’ll be able to pay for a horse.

(Would also like to, again, state that this is extremely generalized; I just wanted to highlight how much a horse usually costs).

[enigma-the-mysterious]

WIP Wednesday: 31/7/24

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RRR has consumed my brain so all recent WIPs are from there. Almost the same as last week. I managed to combine "Ram's thoughts as he carries Bheem away" with another draft like I said I would. I also added a new work to my WIP list. The plot bunnies are multiplying :p

1. Bheem's thoughts after the betrayal: What it says on the tin. Angst, angst, angst and more angst. There isn't enough Bheem trauma fics in the fandom and I am here to fix that

2. Aftermath of Bheem's arrest: Fucktons of angst and Ram being emo and self destructive as usual

3. Inspired: Bheem still has nightmares about the events at Delhi. He and Ram talk. Angst with comfort

4. Chocolate: Dosti era. Ram introduces Bheem to chocolate :D :D :D Pure, self indulgent fluff

5. Ram's guilt about the flogging: What it says on the tin. Post movie. Angst with comfort

Snippet from WIP 5.

"I should have protected you."

"You did."

"No," Ram snarled, feral, vicious. "I did not."

Bheem smiled, in the same serene way he had on the night when he trusted his most carefully guarded secret with the wrong person. "Yes, you did. I know it in my heart. When you told me to kneel, that was not actually an order, was it? It was a plea from you. You took no pleasure from my torture, did you, anna?"

Ram remained silent. He wanted to deny the truth in Bheem's words, for every word that he spoke felt like it was a word closer to Bheem spelling out his forgiveness, his absolution, his mercy for Ram and Ram hated that.

But he could not do it, not anymore. In Delhi, there were too many lies and secrets between them, half truths that ripped them apart and frayed the bond Ram had once thought was holy. So Ram was tired. He was so fucking tired.

"Tell me, anna," Bheem went on, clasping his hands tighter over Ram's fists, as if he feared that Ram would crumble into dust otherwise. Maybe he would. Six months of torture at the hands of the British and this was what would finally break him. The quiet strength and the tender kindness of his Bheema. How ironic and fitting at the same time.

"Tell me all the ways you protected me, saved me, kept my weary heart beating through the torture."

Ram choked on a sob. "I… I can't."

"Yes, you can. You can do this for me, your tammudu, right anna?"

His lips trembled. Memories flooded unbidden. The weight of Catherine's whip in his hand. The strain on his arm as he ripped out chunks of his dearest friend's flesh. The strength of Bheem's song, the stubborn defiance in his eyes, the fire directed at him, the pride in his eyes, his utter refusal to kneel. The warmth of Bheem's blood on his face. God, there had been so much blood. Blood rolling down his back, blood drenching his white dhoti, blood pooled at his feet, blood soaking the holy soil.

Bheem's body a dead weight on his shoulder.

A warm mist descended over his vision.

Dammit, how was he supposed to form words in such a state?

"I… I tried, Bheema," he finally said, swallowing another fit of sobs. "I tried so damn hard, to make it easy for you. But… but I failed."

Bheem raised both their hands and placed it over his chest. His broad, solid, moving chest.

"You didn't," he said and now his voice sounded strained too. "My heart still beats. My life still thrums in my veins, anna. If it was not for you, I would be dead. If it was any white officer, I would be dead. If it was anyone else, I would be dead at that whipping post."

There was a long silence, punctuated only by Ram's loud exhales.

"Tell me."

[nelvana]

A couple months ago now I was fortunate enough to buy a used switch lite from my friend, and even luckier to obtain a copy of Pokemon Scarlet at the local pawn shop at a very reduced price (plus a couple other things but that's not the point rn). So, we go right from the earliest generation of pokemon to the newest back to back, with possibly just as many bugs and glitches, to my gen 9 team!

Team stats and general gameplay info under the cut:

"Nila", Meowscarada, ♀, U-Turn - Play Rough - Flower Trick - Night Slash

"Quaord", Clodsire, ♂, Poison Jab - Earthquake - Liquidation - Megahorn

"Guache", Grafaiai, ♂, Slash - Knock Off - Poison Jab - U-Turn

"Stella", Luxray☆, ♀, Volt Switch - Spark - Crunch - Ice Fang

"Étoile", Pyroar☆, ♀, Flamethrower - Hyper Voice - Swift - Crunch

"Pharle", Farigiraf, ♂, Crunch - Shadow Ball - Twin Beam - Tera Blast

General Playthrough Notes:

Okay look I need to level with you all right off the bat, I don't like the vast majority of the pokemon introduced in gen 9. They feel like such first drafts to me. I normally go into these games with a team plan but this time I literally had two slots missing going in, I just could not think of what to put in there. And I already planned on using two poison-types and two normal-types! Normally I avoid doubling up on types as much as possible! After a bit I used the codes to get a bug-tera mew and a cetitan and was just thinking "I guess they'll be mainstays??"... then I immediately ran into a shiny shinx. Then a shiny litleo. They happened to slot right into the team and I've never been fortunate enough to use shinies in a playthrough (except my soulsilver randomized apocalocke but shhhhh we aren't there yet), so I put them on. But if they hadn't shown up and essentially saved my ass I would have been hard pressed to fill up a team of six (look I literally just used a mew I'm not in a hurry to use it again, at least it's been a couple years since I used luxray in a playthrough).

Anyways, despite all that, I had fun! I knew going in it wouldn't be too difficult and would have its lion's share of glitches, so I was just along for the ride. I like the friend group you form in this game! I like vibing with koraidon as an honorary team member! It's just a pleasant time.

Back to shinies for a moment, overworld shinies without any sound effects to indicate them is evil. I spent so much time staring at groups of pokemon trying to tell if one of them was off-palette. Thankfully, I never ran into any shinies other than the ones I caught.

The raids are neat, though since I don't have Nintendo Online and no frequent enough local players it isn't super interesting with just the npcs. Caught a few neat fellas though, including a steel-tera breloom and a fighting-tera azumarill.

Speaking of, when I first started playing those mewtwo raids were going on and I wanted to participate in them so bad. I barely missed my window, though from what I've heard I wouldn't have stood much of a chance anyway, haha.

I wish there was more post-game other than the raids. I've redone the tournament like half a dozen times now; I wish there was a battle frontier or something. To be fair, I haven't caught all those ruin legends yet; though the one I have caught I managed to get in the first ball, lol.

Do I have the dlc yet? No! I can't just throw around that kind of money willy-nilly. Maybe someday though.

Picnics are really cute though I wish I could pet my pokemon instead of just wash them. Also why can't I sit down on the chairs that are set up around the picnic table??? Still don't really get the sandwich hype, I might mess around with it a bit though, I want to give it a fair shot.

"Hey Nel, why haven't you talked about the Elite Four? You usually start these notes with them?" The E4 is very unremarkable, sorry. I won't bore you by being the billionth person to rag on how Geeta is objectively the worst champion. Also when I rematched all the gym leaders I didn't have to terastilize or heal my pokemon. They were a bit more impressive the first time around tbh. The gym puzzles were neat though!! Except for Tulip's. Fuck her.

Oh yeah, terastilizing is a thing. Mega evolution is still better.

I wanna hang out with my friiiieeeennnds more, both my irl friends and Nemona, Penny, and Arven. It would be so fun to do raids with them or something like that.

Cold take but the uniforms suck I wanna customize my outfit like Nemona, Penny, Arven and Team Star do

(Normally this is where I'd show a screenshot of me finishing the game, but I'm one of the few weirdos who can't use captchas and haven't found another way to transfer files from my switch to other devices. Have a picture of my cat instead; his name is Prince.)

[ladytauria]

I need to know more about Neither a Bang Nor a Whimper!!!!

-@bi-bats (ughghghgh sideblog laws sorry for the anon)

So, njw's Where's My Goddamn Dinosaur? was one of the first Jaytim fics I ever read, & immediately left me wanting more time travel fics (which, time travel fix-its & the like were already a favorite genre of mine lol). I also read a lot of gen time travel & dimension travel, and. Anyway. That led to "Neither a Bang Nor a Whimper."

It's gone through a few different changes since I first started planning it / writing it. The first version had future!Tim being sent back in time, in his younger body, and I wrote the first two chapters that way. Then I decided I liked future!Tim being sent there as himself better, mostly because in addition to Jaytim I want to explore what Tim's interactions with his younger self might be like. I have also been considering a version where Jason and Tim are sent back to the past, together (for the same reasons as previous). I may make that an entirely separate fic, lol.

But! At least in the current draft, it's 17-year-old Tim sent back in time a few days before Jason died. The title is a reference to the catalyst of the time travel being the end of the world, similar to Where's My Goddamn Dinosaur--though not with the branching timelines~

It's also one of the first fics I started writing, and I've learned a lot more about canon vs fanon & my preferences re: those things since xD So what I do have needs some heavy rewrites, again :P

But have this snippet anyway~

The world as he knew it... is gone. The invasion saw to that. One by one, all of Tim's loved ones had dropped like flies—from the Teen Titans, to Batman himself, to Alfred. this was his only way forward, now—even if it meant, for all intents and purposes, going backward.

The only question is… when?

Six months ago, when this all started? He, and the rest of Earth's heroes, could stop it, especially with the data that Tim had collected over the last six months. That was the logical choice. Tim's life, as he knew it, would go on, exactly as it was before.

But...

Tim looks at the chronometer, turning it over in his hands, watching the light play on the silver. This is his one chance to go back. He should choose carefully. Weigh his choices, make the right one. the best one.

He has no idea exactly how it works. If he goes back to a time he exists, will there be two of him? Or will his consciousness replace his former self?

He doesn't know.

If its the latter, his choices narrow. He can't save Dick's parents—not from the body of a four year old. Tim bites his lip.

He flips the watch open.

If he’s being honest... there's always been one particular date he's been drawn to. One thing he wanted to change, more than anything else. Maybe it's selfish of him, to narrow down to that particular point—to ignore every other tragedy, every other pivotal moment in his life, in his family's lives.

But if you can't be selfish at the end of the world... when can you be?

So… with only a split second of hesitation, Tim keys in the date—and presses the button. There’s a soft chime, and then—

The world warps around him, bending and twisting, blurring together like some awful fevered haze.

And then the floor drops out beneath him, and he is falling, falling, falling—

[shitpostingfromthebarricade]

i would love to hear about the scarlet welly boots and/or lesbian art heist

Scarlet Welly Boots was inspired by The Amazing Devil's "Welly Boots," with the premise being an epistolary of "letters" from Cosette to a deceased Jean Valjean keeping him appraised of things in her life and asking him the questions she never got the chance to ask. The story would follow her through the pitfalls of adulthood without a parent figure there to guide and her trials and struggles as she figures out who she is and makes peace with everything that happened.

Dear Dad,

I had my driving exam today.  I passed!  I’m so excited, but it’s weird, because it doesn’t seem like a big deal to anyone else.  

You’re dead now, so it feels petty and annoying to blame my current failings on you, but apparently most students in the US start receiving instruction from their parents from 16, if not before.  I know we took public transit and walked when we could, but we had a car — we had my car, even.  It never occurred to you to talk me through the things you were doing?

It's a premise I really wanna revisit and make work, but at the time I was deeply unhappy with how it was panning out and decided I would need to read more and grow as a writer before I was ready to handle it the way I wanted.

---

Lesbian Art Heist had its first draft around 80% finished before I noticed a MASSIVE plothole that would require a total rewrite to correct for. I'd been writing it for a fic exchange (despite wanting to write the base premise since I first encountered it), and with the deadline looming I ended up abandoning it and drafting up Favour instead.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art is a fucking nightmare to smuggle things into for the same reason it’s a nightmare to steal things out of: the place is a glorified vault. When her father had organized the team to steal Degas’s Little Dancer of Fourteen Years, ninety percent of the plan had been causing enough confusion that Montparnasse and Claquesous could move the damned thing out to the main gallery and get it through a sky window without drawing too much attention. In the chaos, Éponine had managed to get Gueulemer to unwittingly help her steal a New Kingdom Egyptian collar from storage that, with any luck, won’t be missed for several more months, and, much more regrettably and almost as an afterthought, one of the Benin Artifacts from where archivists had already packed it up.

Her ears still ring from the phantom pain of Cosette’s anguish that Éponine hadn’t known that the Benin Kingdom was not located in the modern day country of Benin. Look, if six weeks of standing around in the Exhibition Room with them hadn’t told her this, maybe it’s the fault of the exhibit.

Her one saving grace in all of this, Éponine thinks as she takes the now-familiar route up the stairs to where an exhibit on 20th century American jewelry has now replaced the Benin Artifacts, is that they don’t seem to realize yet that they’re missing one of their artifacts. It had, of course, been the logic in the last-second swipe: already weighed, measured, and repackaged, no one would know to miss it until the artifacts were already on the next leg of their global tour, at which point museums would be pointing fingers at the movers rather than assuming it had never been there to start.

‘Germany only finally returned them four years ago!’ Damn, maybe not-Benin shouldn’t have been loaning them out so soon then.

‘You have to return it.’ Éponine thinks the fuck not.

(The plothole had to do with underground tunnels, I'm still Big Mad about it.)

[pepsi-maxwell]

hello! have a snippet that's been hiding in my drafts for like six months

pairing: max²

rating: r

wordcount: ~900

warnings: female terms used for genitalia, typical sex swap fuckery

background: the fifth annual dynamite diamond ring contest ends with a heated match between mjf and max caster.

obviously, mjf wins.

the only issue is... this year's ring has a sex-swap curse on it.

cue semi-phone sex shenanigans.

---

The question is burning inside him, clawing its way out of his throat. “Yeah, I’m gonna stop you there because I don’t give a shit,” Max says, cutting Caster off mid-sentence. “If you–if you had a girl body, would you… stupid question, you would, right?”

He can’t fucking say the specifics out loud, for all that the rest of that sentence had tumbled out of his mouth. Doesn’t know what the block is in his mind, only that there is one, because it’s not like he’s ever had any shame in talking about jerking off before, even with Caster.

“‘I would’ what, Max?”

Oh, fuck off with the teasing, he wants to say, because Caster is teasing, he can tell by the sound of his voice. Sounds like he’s smirking, too.

“Would you… get yourself off,” he says, as low and sweet and sultry as he can manage, even though his jaw is clenched and his fingernails are digging into the newly soft meat of his thigh. “Would you stick your fingers in your cunt? Pinch your tits, rub your clit? Find some dick and take it for a ride?”

The same voice he uses picking up chicks, but it comes off different in this body. With this voice. Higher pitched than usual.

Caster giggles. “Gosh, you’ve got such a way with words–”

“Answer the fucking question.”

Caster laughs down the phone, short and tinny and obnoxious, and Max almost hangs up on him on principle, but then he responds, and Max finds he can’t bring his thumb to press the end call button.

“Of course I would! I mean, I did, you remember that time with the CAP title, right? I spent my whole time doing nothing else,” he says, sounding so fucking proud of himself.

And… Max gets a mental image of it that he can’t fucking shake. Caster, but… softer. More curves, plumper lips, longer legs. She’s spread out on her bed with her legs wide and her hands between them, touching, rubbing…

He wonders for a moment if Caster had found somebody else, somebody better equipped to fill that fancy new hole. The thought of it makes his stomach twist angrily, because he’d known Caster back then, and he... he could have...

He’s distracted from dwelling on that thought by another sensation, insistent and tugging between his own legs. It feels a little damp against his boxers, and for a second he’s worried he’s pissed his pants a little, but…

“–Haven’t you?” Caster asks innocently.

Max swallows. Wonders why the fuck his heartbeat’s suddenly kicked up a notch. “I’ve got better things to do with my time,” he says, and pretends he doesn’t notice how thick his voice is. That he doesn’t, in fact, have better things to do with his time, because he’s barely moved from the sofa in three days, save to get his doordash order or go to the bathroom.

“You should, you know,” Caster continues, still sounding innocent, but Max knows it’s anything but. “Trust me, it’ll feel real nice.”

God, he’s… he’s not going to. Obviously. It’s not like he needs to, he’s not some horned up teenager, and he certainly doesn’t need to do anything that Caster is telling him to do, but...

What if he did, though?

Just this once?

He can feel all that tension coiling inside him like a spring, and…

Maybe it’ll... unwind him.

He rests his hand on his stomach, fingertips touching the waistband of his sweatpants. His heart’s pounding nervously and he doesn’t even know why.

…No, that’s not true. He knows exactly why.

“And how’s it gonna feel nice,” he asks, throwing as much disdain into the words as possible, even as he slides his fingers under the waistband. Not touching anything, just… there. Plausible deniability.

“Want me to tell you?” Caster asks, his voice a little lower, and Max’s heart beats like machine gun fire in his chest. He forces his breathing to steady, in case Caster hears just how ragged it’s getting already.

The conversation feels different, now. Loaded, filled with a strange tension, and it takes him a moment to realise the exact nature of that tension.

“Wow, you mean you actually know your way around a pussy? Thought you were too busy thinking of my ass to get any,” he fires back, trying desperately to steer the conversation back in a direction he has control over, and cringing almost immediately because it’s the exact worst thing he could say.

Still, he slides his hand another inch into his boxers. Then another, then another, until the tip of his middle finger is resting just above his clit, to the point that he’d barely have to move to touch it. To feel that sweet, shocky spark he had that first night, before he’d yanked his hand away.

His lungs burn as the line stays quiet, and he tries to exhale as quietly as possible.

“Hey, I get plenty, pal,” Caster says, and the ‘pal’ is enough to force a laugh out of Max, because it’s normal, it’s someone not treating him differently, talking to him differently, just because he has a cunt between his legs this week.

And then he ruins it all by adding, “And now I can think about your ass and your pussy, daddy–”

“Keep dreaming,” Max says shortly, and hangs up.

He falls back against the couch, staring at the ceiling, suddenly aware that there's nothing to distract him from the wetness between his thighs and the fact that he’s got his hands in his pants.

And...

Caster would.

Hell, Caster had, he’d said it himself. Had spent the whole weekend exploring his girl body.

And… he’s not gonna let Caster psyche him out of getting off. After all, it’s not like he’ll never find out, so… what’s the harm?

His heart pounding against his ribs, he slides his finger down that last little bit.

[sarandipitywrites]

dead roots, dark water for the ask game :3c

ABSOLUTELY.

so the WIP intro is here if you want the long version. the short version is: dark jak AU.

i started this one because i replayed tpl for the first time in like 15 years and accidentally Reawakened the Special Interest. it was supposed to be a short thing until it... wasn't. and somehow it went from 'a fun story about this thing i loved when i was a kid' to '300-ish page existential trainwreck clusterfuck about trauma and loss and learning to forgive yourself for not being the same person anymore' and i'm not sure how it got here but hey i'm having a great time :) and i'm almost done with the second draft edit (on pause until nano is over), so maybe the finished thing will see the light of day in spring sometime (assuming i'm very persistent and can keep the other plot bunnies at bay long enough)

thanks for the ask and listening to me rant 💜 for your suffering, have an excerpt from chapter 2:

This was fine. It was. They’d shared Jak’s bed in Uncle’s loft for… six years? Seven? Right up until the KG had taken Jak away. And it’d been fine. But in all those years, the tiny, animal part of Daxter’s brain had never been convinced that Jak was going to go cuckoo for cluckatoos in the middle of the night and shred him into confetti. Which he wasn’t. Jak’d had plenty of chances to maim him, and hadn’t taken a single one. Not in the prison, before he’d realized Daxter wasn’t a hallucination. Not when he’d killed the prison guards. Not any of the times Daxter had touched him without thinking, when any rational person would’ve stayed the hell away. Because Jak was Jak, and Jak wouldn’t hurt him. He also wouldn’t sleep, apparently. Jak, still in his street clothes, lay at the very edge of the bed with his back to Daxter. A minor earthquake would have sent him tumbling to the floor. Every few minutes he tilted his head to watch something else. The door. The window. The door, again. Which was ridiculous. Babak Village was the safest place on the Haven Peninsula. There was nothing to be— Daxter bit down on his tongue. His chest burned, bile rose to inflame his lungs. He shut his eyes against it. Jak was the brave one. He’d always been the brave one. The mattress creaked. Indigo eyes watched him, luminescent in the magma’s faint glow. “Yeah, definitely keep doing that. ‘S not creepy at all.” “How long?” Jak signed small, close to his chest. No-context questions. That was something to get used to again. “Two years. Three months. Twelve days.” Since Daxter had climbed out Thad’s window, leaving Jak behind. Since he’d run into the jungle, had gone home alone, had waited five whole days before even trying to leave Sandover— “Thanks. For saving me.” Daxter’s mouth dried and his eyes burned. He didn’t dare reply out loud. “You already said that,” he signed. “Can’t say it enough.” Fuck. What was he supposed to say to that? ‘Didn’t have a choice, turns out my life sucks without you’? “Well, we can just add it to the life-debt you owe me and call it good. Twenty years sound fair?” The corner of Jak’s lips curled into a smile. “Got to be at least two or three life-debts deep with you, by now.” “Two hundred forty-three years, but who’s counting?”

[rosemaryreaper]

Fallout OCs!

This has been sitting in my drafts for months. About time I actually shared them.

* * * * Fallout 4 * * * *

Nora “Blue” Delaney (she/her): Minutemen general and Sole Survivor of Vault 111, she led the Commonwealth to victory against the Institute. Now it’s her mission to rebuild her former home, with hope for a peaceful future in the new family that is Piper, Nat, and Shaun. While Nora constantly emphasizes that she has no interest in power, her strong influence over nearly all the eastern Commonwealth settlements and supply lines, as well as on the politics of Diamond City itself, cause many to doubt her intent. None more so than the overzealous Brotherhood of Steel…who she pissed off when she went AWOL as a paladin and sabotaged Liberty Prime. Oops.

Ros Markey (she/they): The daughter of an Appalachian vault dweller and a Piedmont settler, she’s a wanderer with an oddly diverse skill set. After a series of tragedies left her alone with only a temperamental robot horse for company, she bounces from job to job—farmhand, caravan guard, pole dancer—anything that will keep her moving away from her past. Not completely directionless, she regularly collects data for her mother’s Project Salvia, despite knowing next to nothing about the work she has inherited—or how it’s supposed to save the world.

* * * * Fallout 3 * * * *

Charlotte “Charlie” Mills (she/her): Programmer, engineer, former resident of the Capital Wasteland’s Vault 101—and yet forever a Lone Wanderer and outcast. She had a brief stint as one of the Brotherhood of Steel’s most renowned paladins before the whole mess with Project Purity left her with a radiation makeover. “Honorably” discharged due to her new ghoulish appearance, she does her best to live a (semi-)quiet life on a small Maryland farm, occasionally looking after the young son of a certain sharpshooter merc. That is, until that certain merc sets off on a mission for some weird Yankee general. Looks like it’s time to dust off the old Pip-Boy again.

* * * * Fallout: New Vegas * * * *

Shrike (they/them): Courier Six, AKA the baddest gunslinger west of the Rockies, Shrike is rather like a rattlesnake: reasonably docile most of the time, good at communication, and only likely to mess with you if you mess with them first. Unfortunately, a lot of folks like to mess with them. (Most of those folks now have holes in them.) Really, all Shrike wants is to do their job, make some caps, hang out with their favorite scribe, and maybe, if they’re feeling generous, lend a hand here or there. If only things would stop trying to kill them for five goddamned seconds.

[recurring-polynya]

*CLAPPING AND CHEERING WHENEVER I SEE BYAKUYA'S SQUAD 6 MEMOS AGAIN* Honestly an early favourite when I was getting into Bleach. Anyways for the deleted scene stuff my vote is for Hold On, Hold On. Academy squad...

I hope someone from Squad Six saves every memo Byakuya ever writes, like, in a binder somewhere. For posterity.

Ahem! So, in the first draft of Hold On, Hold On, when Renji hit the depression stage, Kira convinced him to stay in bed. I didn't like it though, and I eventually decided that a) it was too sappy and b) it was out-of-character for Renji to allow himself that level of self-indulgence, and I rewrote it. I absolutely stand by the final version as superior. Regardless, there are certainly some charming bits in this version, so here it is. This is actually, like, 3 deleted scenes, but they go together so you can have them all. (If the first few paragraphs are familiar, it's because they're the same as in the final story, but I wanted to keep the lead-in)

🛏️ 📖 🌧️

Renji relentlessly fills binders for two days. It’s actually kind of fun for Izuru to be able to supply information on various protocols and etiquette. For once, Renji is actually interested in things he knows about. But Izuru hopes this doesn’t turn out to be permanent. There’s a certain anxious mania to School Supply Renji that he finds exhausting. This may also be due to the fact that School Supply Renji doesn’t sleep any better than Denial Renji or Angry Renji.

But Saturday morning, things have changed once again. 

The day dawns bright and beautiful and Izuru hopes maybe they can spar outside or walk down into the city proper, instead of cutting articles out of magazines in the library again. 

Renji is lying in bed with his blanket over his face and his feet sticking out the bottom.

Izuru hopes against hope that he’s asleep. “Hey, Abarai?” he whispers.

A muffled “yuh?” emerges from the blanket.

“You ready to go down to breakfast?”

Izuru has lived with Renji for nine months now. Renji has never once not been ready for breakfast.

There is a long pause. “I don’t feel like it.”

A dark, familiar feeling knots in Izuru’s stomach. He tries not to jump to conclusions. Maybe Abarai has made himself sick with his mania and poor sleep. “You don’t feel like eating or you don’t feel like getting out of bed?”

Another pause. “Neither, really.” Renji sticks the tip of his nose out from under the blanket. “I'm never going to see her again, am I?"

No, it was his first suspicion after all. Izuru knows how to deal with this. It hurts his heart, both because he’s embarrassed by how familiar these feelings are, and also because Renji is strong and cheerful and spits in the face of life’s adversities, and depression is not for him, it’s for people like Izuru. But that’s how it is in this bitch of an afterlife, so Izuru’s going to Do Friendship and help Renji get through this. 

Izuru keeps his voice very calm and reasonable. "I think you will see her again. It won't be the same, and it might not be for a while, but I am sure you will see her again, especially if you work at it the way I know you're going to."

"It seems like so much work. It seems impossible."

"You just have to take it one step at a time. The first step is doing well at school, and you'll have that covered if you stop yelling at teachers and trying to show off in kidou. And it's Saturday, so if you want to just stay in bed for a while, you can. You don't need to work on it every minute of every day."

"I feel like I'm too sad to get up. I hate this. Why am I like this?"

Izuru pulls his desk chair over next to Renji's bed and sits down. "A sad thing is happening to you right now. You haven't really just let yourself be sad about it. It's okay to do that." 

"I'm being ridiculous. I would never do this back home." 

Izuru has never once heard Renji refer to Inuzuri as "home" before.

"Yeah, well, you're not there anymore, so go ahead and be ridiculous. I've spent a few days in bed myself because I was sad, sometimes it's what you need."

More of Renji's face pokes out from under the blanket. "Really?"

Izuru regards him very seriously. "Yes. And some of it was for good reason, like when my parents died, and sometimes it was for no reason. There are some people who just get sad sometimes and I'm one of them. And since I am the voice of experience here, this is what we're going to do today: You do what you want. If you want to stay in bed, stay in bed. If you want to go outside, go outside. At some point, I'll make you eat something, but it doesn't have to be right now. If there is anything you think will make you feel better, go for it. If there's anything I can do to make you feel better, say the word. You want to tell Rukia stories, I'll listen. You want me to go get you some food, just tell me what you want. You wanna borrow my blanket so you can make yourself a big blanket nest, it's yours. If you'd rather have Momo or Hisagi or someone else, I'll go get them for you. If you want to be alone, that's okay, but I will check on you from time to time. Deal?"

Renji nods. "Hey, Izuru?"

"Yeah?"

"I can really borrow your blanket?"

Izuru snorts, and goes to get it. He tosses it over Renji's feet, and then, realizing that his is much softer than Renji's own, reorganizes so the nicer one is on the bottom. "That one was easy."

"Once, in Rukongai, I got sick with a fever and I got the chills real bad. Everyone put their blanket on me and…" he trails off.

Izuru pats the mass of blankets. "I told you. Anything."

---

In a twist that surprises no one, Renji is bad at being depressed. The problem is that he is bored, but he still doesn't feel like doing anything.

"Do you want to get out of the room?"

"No, I want to stay here."

"Do you want to lift your weights?"

"No, I don't want to move."

"Do you want to talk about anything?"

"I don't even want to think about anything. That's the problem, actually. I keep thinking things I don't want to think about."

"You want to read a book?"

Renji wrinkles his nose. He's got blankets wrapped around his head, and if he weren't so sad, he would look really adorable. "Like homework?"

"No, like, for fun. I read a lot when I get depressed, it helps distract my mind."

Renji still looks perplexed. "But what do you read that's fun? I guess our history book is kinda interesting."

It dawns on Izuru suddenly. Renji has mentioned before that paper is rare out in Inuzuri, and that his schoolbooks are the first books he's ever owned. Every time Izuru thinks he has a handle on the awful dump Renji grew up in, he learns some new horrible detail, large or small that makes things seem even worse. "I've heard you tell stories before, " Izuru says slowly. "Not stories about yourself, but about made-up people or events? Stories you tell over and over?" He'd always found this performative storytelling sort of odd, but Renji seemed to enjoy it. He recalls Rukia telling stories once or twice, as well. She had seemed like an entirely different person.

"Yeah, sure," Renji agrees. "Like you would tell at a campfire, or when you're snowed in." 

"We have books like that, here in civilization."

Renji looks confused. "But wouldn't the story just be the same every time?"

Izuru shrugs. "That is a limit of the medium, I suppose." He doesn't keep too many novels at school, but he does have a few. He immediately rejects all that have even the vaguest romantic subplot. Here's one that's almost entirely descriptions of the protagonist hacking his way through the War Beneath the Earth, described in loving detail. Izuru can't even remember if it has any female characters. He can remember that Momo hates it. "Here. Give this a try."

Renji looks deeply skeptical, but he sits up, rearranging his blanket cocoon, and accepts the book.

Izuru has been working on homework, but if Renji can take a day, so can he. He picks up the novel he hasn't touched in a week, and settles on his own bed, mirroring Renji.

Just two nerds, reading in their room, on a Saturday morning. This is nice.

---

The sky has clouded over but good, and fat raindrops are smacking against the window. So much for this morning's beautiful sunshine.

Izuru is engrossed in his book when there's a sharp rap at the window. He and Renji look up simultaneously to see Momo's rain-streaked face smushed against the glass. Both boys scramble to their feet to let her in.

"What are you doing, sneaking in here in the middle of the day?" Izuru exclaims.

"It's awful out there and about to get nastier," Momo explains. "No one's going to catch me. I brought supplies." She opens up the bag she's managed to haul up her two-story climb. "First of all, Izuru told me what he gave you to read, and it's unacceptable, so I went to the library for you." She unloads a pile of books into Renji's arms. He looks stricken. "Does that mean I have to stop reading mine? Because I really like it. It might be my favorite book."

Momo gives Izuru a dirty look, then turns back to Renji. "You may do whatever makes you happy," she offers generously. "Then, when you read my books, you will appreciate them more." 

Izuru rolls his eyes.

"Next, have you been eating?"

"Stop being his mom," Izuru scolds. "And he ate the onigiri I brought him at lunchtime."

"Never had a mom," Renji ponders. "Momo can be my mom if she wants. You can be my dad, if it makes you feel better."

Their faces are both bright red. "Let's just stick with what we've got, okay?" Izuru suggests.

"Anyway, I was worried you hadn't eaten anything, so I went down to town and got you these." Momo presses a slightly greasy paper bag into his hands.  

An overwhelmed, emotional look has come into Renji's eyes. "Is it taiyaki?"

"It is taiyaki," she confirms. "Eat it or not, it won't hurt my feelings." She clears her throat. "I have one more thing for you. If you don't want it--"

"I get it, already! You two are being so nice I'm gonna puke!" 

Momo pulls a lumpy grey mass from her bag and thrusts it at Renji.

Very slowly, almost reverently, he puts his taiyaki bag down on his desk and accepts it.

Izuru doesn't get it. It looks like a standard issue dorm blanket, just like the one Renji uses. 

Renji's fingers tighten in the scratchy wool. "How did you…?"

"It technically belongs with the room although I hear people make off with them all the time. I asked her roommate if I could swap it out with mine. I use one from home, so--"

Oh. Oh.

Renji cuts off her babbling with a rib-snapping hug. "Thank you, Momo," he whispers, his voice thick.

[renlyslittlerose]

As someone who rewatches BtVS every few months or so and was thrilled to discover you enjoy the show too, I would love to know your fave episodes.

Also, super excited for your vampire obikin fic!!

Oh man, the noise I made when I saw this ask. Someone actually asking me to talk about my hyperfixation? Without me having to direct them towards it? My lucky day, indeed! I'm tempted to say every episode is my favourite (except for maybe 'Where the Wild Things Are'), but I will limit myself to five!

Fool for Love - Really enjoy the ride we go through in terms of Spike's character arc throughout the series, and I thought this episode really did him, his relationships, and his background a lot of justice. The scene where he's explaining the 'lesson' to Buffy in the alleyway, spliced with his fight with Nicky in the subway, is absolute perfection. And I really thought they did a great job mixing the flashbacks on Buffy with the sister episode on Angel.

Becoming Part 1/2 - Not the biggest Angel fan when he's on Buffy (it took his own show for me to warm to him), but his flashbacks did a lot to inform us of who he was, whereas before we didn't get a lot of that? Plus, Buffy determined to save the world despite knowing that it'll destroy hers, is both heartbreaking and inspiring. And the part where Angelus has Buffy cornered and is about to take the final blow, when Buffy catches the blade and shows us why she's the slayer??? Gets me every. damn. time.

The Zeppo - I know, I know, Xander is... a piece of work, to put it lightly. But the whimsy, the self-effacing humour, the genuine character growth that Xander goes through (and then seemingly loses come season six but whatever), all makes it really stand out to me.

I Only Have Eyes for You - LISTEN, again, it's not a ground-breaking episode, but I fucking love it. Flashbacks to the 1950s? A ghost story??? Placing the traditionally 'masculine' male character in the role of a vulnerable, scared woman??? THE FLAMINGO'S 'I ONLY HAVE EYES FOR YOU' PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND???? Not to mention the development of Buffy and her grief and guilt is really beautifully done.

The Gift. What more is there to say? And while I enjoyed season 6 and, to a lesser extent season 7, I really do think this would have been the perfect finale for the show. "Be brave. Live." <- this has gotten me through a lot of tough spots, for sure.

But I honestly adore almost every episode. Just as you do, I re-watch Buffy an obsessive amount of times - it's my comfort show! What are your favourites, anon?

And you didn't ask this but here is my quick top five list for Angel: 'Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been' , 'Five by Five', 'Lullaby', 'A Hole in the World', 'Not Fade Away' ✨ (and I'm so glad you're excited for the fic! Almost done the first draft, then it's time to comb through it all and hope it makes sense. And for those who don't watch Buffy, don't worry, the story should still make sense - it's mostly me mashing together Star Wars lore with basic Buffy stuff and hoping it works?)

[super-predictable98]

My Dad's Mind Maze (Recovery AU)

Chapter 1: The Day a Bomb Exploded in My Father's Brain

Word Count: 1,9 k

Warning: Strong language, mild sexual content

a/n: Hello everyone! So I'm finally getting back into writing a bit and this old draft is the first in line while I work on another Casanova request. Hope you all like it <3

"My daddy is like a superhero!" Little Ophelia said while the other girls talked about their dads after ballet class.

"Your dad's a plumber, catch yourself on," one of the girls said and the others laughed.

"Yeah! He's a plumber but he helps people so he's like a hero, and he's going to school too, and he can make me fly when he tosses me up. He's a hero!" She started getting upset at how the other girls giggled.

"What is going on here?" Alan asked when he entered the room.

"Dad!" Ophelia ran into his arms. "The girls were laughing at me cause they say you're not a hero."

"That's because they don't know what a hero is, sweetheart," he took his daughter in his arms. "They think heroes are always like superman or batman, but sometimes a hero is just someone who can make your life a little better."

"You make my life a lot better," she hid her face in the crook of his neck.

"See? Then I'm your hero, they're just jealous they don't have a hero of their own."

"They said you're just a plumber."

"I am, and I saved a woman today from having her entire house flooded, isn't that something? Her kitties would all be under water if it wasn't for me."

"She had kitties?"

"She did, three! They were called Larry, Garry, and Jerry."

"You're the best, Dad… you saved the kitties!" Ophelia laughed.

"Now come on, princess, let's get home so you can show me the new moves you learned. I need to improve my dancing!"

*

Time changes many things, it makes little girls grow up into women, it makes fathers turn from heroes to… slightly older heroes. But Ophelia's love for her father remained unchanged, if anything, it grew.

Her world was crushed when the police knocked on her door to let her and her family know that her dad was admitted to the hospital after being run over by a truck. Alan was in a coma for a while, but she didn't care that he wouldn't respond, she kept coming to see him every single day.

Ophelia would sing, bring different essential oils to stimmulate his senses. She took care of him in every way she possibly could, knowing her mother wasn't strong enough to handle everything, her twin Dean would most likely lash out because of how frustrated he was, and her younger brother Joel couldn't exactly understand what was going on.

"I can't keep watching him do nothing," Dean said.

"Will you shut up?" Ophelia cried. She also felt like that, but didn't have the courage to say it.

She was carefully trimming her father's nails. "There you go, all better. Maybe I should trim his beard too, I'll get the trimmer."

"Oph, you don't have to do this," Tricia said.

"I know, I want to," the girl said with tears in her eyes. "I can't spend time with him, but I can do this. At least we're Bonding."

"Daddy's girl…" she teased. That title had been given Ophelia from a very young age, ever since she was a baby and would only stop fussing on her dad's arms. More than once, she caught herself wishing her mother was the one in a coma instead of her father… not that she'd ever admit it.

Carefully, Ophelia trimmed her dad's beard while she covered his chest with a towel and then combed his hair.

"You're so handsome now, see?" She whispered and kissed his forehead. "Please come back to us, Daddy, please come back to me."

"He touched my boob the other day," Tricia murmured. "They said it was a spasm, a motor response, but… it felt like he knew."

"That sounds like Dad," Ophelia chuckled.

Tricia had been working double shifts to make sure the family would have enough money while Alan couldn't work, which left her eldest daughter to care for her father almost every day. She was out of school already, she graduated early six months before and was headed to a music conservatory, but none of that mattered anymore.

"He's up! He's awake!" Ophelia cried on the phone when she saw her dad open his eyes and carefully read the note that was hangin above his bed stating who he was, where he was, and why he was there.

"What? Really? I'll be there in fifteen minutes!" Tricia shouted and immediately hung up.

"Hey, Dad!" Ophelia smiled at him, but his expression was unchanged until he started screaming. He was confused and scared, he tried to get up, but the medical staff was trying to hold him down.

"Fuck off! Fuck off! Let me go!" He struggled and squirmed.

"What is happening?" She asked.

"Post coma agitation, it's very common," one of the nurses explained. "You've had an accident, Alan, that's why you're in hospital now."

"Don't you have any medication you can give him for that?"

"You!" Alan pointed at his daughter.

"It's me, Dad, it's me! I've been here the whole time!"

"Did you bring the outline drawings with the elevations?" he mumbled. "Unless I see the drawings I don't now weather I can build it for you or not in the time frame."

"Do you know who this is, Alan? Who is this girl?" The nurse asked.

"It's me, Daddy, it's Ophelia."

"Ophelia… that's a weird name," he snorted with laughter.

"I'm your daughter."

"My daughter? I haven't got a daughter."

"Yeah you do, look," she pulled out of her bag a photo album and opened to show him a picture of him holding her and his twin brother. "Look, it's you and this is me, this is Dean, your son."

"Don't be daft, that's not you… this is a baby, you're not a baby."

"I was a baby one day. Look, do you know who this is?" Ophelia turned the page to show a picture of her mother holding her.

"Is that… have I seen her before?"

"Yeah! She's your wife, Tricia. My mother."

"My wife? Cheryl! Yeah, that's Cheryl!" Alan smiled, quite proud of himself for remembering.

"No, Dad, Cheryl was your high school girlfriend, this is my mum, Tricia. You married her after."

"Did I?"

"Yeah, look at you two in Portugal," Ophelia pointed. "That's you and that's her. You remember that? You went on holiday together."

"It was hot," he murmured. "On a hovercraft together."

"Holiday," she giggled.

"Honeycomb… Yeah, a honeycomb."

"Holiday," she tried not to laugh, but it was too silly. If her father wasn't the one with a life changing brain injury, she would've been cackling.

She rememebered he used to do that game when she was child, a game in which he'd pronounce words wrong just so she'd correct him and he'd say 'but what did I say?' so she'd repeat his mispronounciation and he'd ask again 'and what's the right one?' until she would get pouty and irritated and he'd laugh… He loved to annoy his little girl, that is every father's favorite pastime, after all.

"What the fuck am I doing here anyway?" Alan got upset after being corrected and tried to take his shirt off. "I wanna go home!"

"Hey hey, calm down, sorry for laughing," Ophelia held him in place and once she was on top of him he smirked.

"Come here often?" He teased.

"Yes, because I'm your daughter and you're my father and I'm taking care of you."

The nurse assured that the amnesia would go away, even if his recovery took months or years, he's at least remember who she was, who the rest of the family and his old friends were. It was comforting to think at least that much was true, but it was undeniable that something was broken. That wasn't her father, that was somebody else she'd need to learn how to love and avoid pressuring with her expectations of who whe was supposed to be.

Ophelia frowned, thinking of what her life would look like from now on, what his life would look like. How could someone she looked up to and admired so much, someone who cared for her and was supposed to make her feel protected was now this shell of a man? He needed protection, he needed to be taken care of now. There's something so depressing about having to care for the ones who cared for you.

And of course, the harrassment started. Alan's impulse control was gone and he's make the most ludicrous comments without a filter, he's touch women innapropriately simply for not understanding what was or not appropriate anymore. And his daughter wasn't an exception. Three times, three times it happened that day

"Nice ass!" Alan reached to grab Ophelia from behind.

"No!" She screamed, swatting his hand away. "Dad, don't do that. This isn't right and I don't like it. You can't do this, remember the father-daughter touches I taught you just now?"

"But it's so nice, you're so sexy, you look like my girlfriend."

"That's because you married that girlfriend and had me, I'm your daughter, I'm Ophelia. Remember?"

"Tricia…"

"No, not Tricia. Ophelia."

"Ophelia," Alan murmured.

"Yes!" For a moment she had hope, he understood. She saw it in his eyes that he remembered her and all the good times they shared when she grew up.

"Oh look at the tits on ya…" he went to fondle her again and once more she had to push him away.

"Dad! Don't! Please, Daddy," she was on the verge of crying. The nurse told her the amnesia would go away soon, but it was painful.

"Damn right I'm your daddy, you're Daddy's good girl, huh? Why don't you come sit in Daddy's lap for a little ride?"

"Please stop," she had to look down to hide her tears.

"But you're so beautiful, Trish, just a little. I can't help myself, just looking at you gives me a hard on."

"Please, Dad, please remember me," Ophelia held up a photo of herself in her old ballet uniform.

"That's my daughter, she's taking fencing lessons."

"Dancing lessons, Dad. That's your daughter, that's me when I was four!"

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I grew up, it's been seventeen years."

Ophelia couldn't hold back, she let out a pained sob and hid her face behind her hands. She just wanted her father back, the wanted him to protect her and tell her everything would be fine.

"Ophelia," Alan finally said, taking her in his arms. "Oph, my baby, it's alright. Daddy's here, it's alright. Remember what mum said? Breathe and count to ten, shall we?"

"Dad…"

"Yeah."

"I love you," she hugged him tightly.

"Why are you crying, princess? I love you too, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing."

"Baby, what did I do?" He asked suddenly, even though she knew in an hour he'd forget she wasn't Tricia again and try to touch her. "I didn't mean to."

"I want my Daddy," tears shed down her face though she tried to hold back for his sake.

"I'm here, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's not your fault."

"I'm not the daddy I used to be? I'm so sorry, my little darling, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. You're a different daddy, but I love you all the same."

Tag List: @jozstankovich

[lazzarella]

It's now been six months since I started my journey into Asian BL series*, and there's nothing I like more than making lists and procrastinating (with a dash of navel gazing), so I'm here to ramble a bit haha (okay this got really long 😅)

*I did realise later that I had watched the movie cut of Wish You some time back, but I'm not counting it :P

I posted an overall top 10 when I hit 40, I think, but here's my updated version:

1. My Personal Weatherman and Moonlight Chicken tied for first place :P

2. KinnPorsche

3. Cherry Magic (Thailand)

4. Wandee Goodday

5. Boys Be Brave!

6. Old Fashion Cupcake

7. A Tale Of Thousand Stars

8. Cherry Magic (Japan)

9. We Are

10. Only Friends and Jack O' Frost tied for 10th place because I can't decide

Now for the navel gazing:

So, I had heard of some of these shows for a while, but I was dumb and couldn't figure out how to watch them XD then, someone on Reddit asked for recs for gay period dramas, and another person recommended I Feel You Linger in the Air to them (I still haven't finished this) and that sent me down a rabbit hole, which eventually led to me watching Moonlight Chicken at the end of January. I was super anxious and depressed at the time (compared to my usual levels of depression and anxiety) and it was exactly the balm I needed! And then I proceeded to watch 49 more shows in the following six months lmao

Also, as much as I sometimes love a sad love story, I was getting frustrated that so many queer romance movies were ending with the main couple apart—maybe everyone wants to make their own version of Weekend, I don’t know haha (Sidenote: I swear there were more HEA in 90s/00s queer films but maybe that was selection bias) Like, don't get me wrong, they're basically all made by queer creators, and I don't want to police what they make (I have a whole rant about this, but I'll save it for another day...or my drafts lol) But as a rom-com lover I was getting bored of watching the same 10 movies/shows over and over for my HEA lmao so, delving into Asian BL series where the majority seem to have happy endings??? Omg, it's been HEAVEN!

As far as adjusting, there wasn't really much to do. I only note this, because a few people I've chatted to elsewhere seemed to treat it like I was delving into completely new territory or something??

Anything that isn't just your standard rom-com or romance trope, I was probably familiar with due to many years in transformative fandom. And the things I wasn't familiar with were mostly cultural things (which I'm still learning about) or different stylistic choices (like the sound effects, which I love). The fandom culture, though, has been a little more of an adjustment, especially the fan service and fixed couples (I think this is a super cute idea, tbh—it feels like watching the gay Fred and Ginger or Myrna Loy and William Powell et al, you know? By the by, Loy and Powell made 13 films together!)

I think overall I'm more drawn to Thai series, but the Japanese ones, when they hit emotionally, they hit like nothing else. Like nothing I've ever watched really. I think it's the way they do longing and yearning combined with feelings of low self worth that's just sooooooo good and delicious to me. But, yeah, there's something about the Thai series that I'm really drawn to! I've started watching more Thai movies in general and listening to Thai music and, I don't know, I enjoy it all. I still need to delve into Taiwan and other countries, though

I've had so much fun with the series I've watched and learning little bits of different cultures and I'm excited to keep going and make my way through my intimidatingly long watchlist lol It's been hard not to let other people's opinions get me down, though—I've felt less embarrassed about enjoying rom coms on Letterboxd than I have since poking my head into BL spaces, but... I don't think I'll dwell on that XD

Anyway, here are all of the series I've watched ranked by country under the cut(an idea I borrowed from @/dramalets)

Thailand (average rating: 8.4)

1. Moonlight Chicken

2. KinnPorsche

3. Cherry Magic

4. Wandee Goodday

5. A Tale of Thousand Stars

6. Only Friends

7. We Are

8. Cupid's Last Wish

9. Manner of Death

10. Laws of Attraction

11. Vice Versa

12. Last Twilight

13. Enchanté

14. A Boss and a Babe

15. Lovely Writer

16. The Sign

17. Hidden Agenda

18. Bad Buddy

19. Not Me

20. Theory of Love

21. To Be Continued

22. Sky In Your Heart

Japan (average rating: 8.2)

(Using the English titles)

1. My Personal Weatherman

2. Old Fashion Cupcake

3. What Did You Eat Yesterday?

4. Jack O' Frost

5. Cherry Magic etc

6. My Beautiful Man

7. Love is Better the Second Time Around

8. Ossan's Love

9. Perfect Propose

10. My Love Mix-Up

11. Candy Color Paradox

12. I Cannot Reach You

13. Mr Unlucky Has No Choice But to Kiss

South Korea (average rating: 7.6)

1. Boys Be Brave

2. Blueming

3. Semantic Error

4. Love for Love's Sake

5. Choco Milk Shake

6. The New Employee

7. Love Tractor

8. Our Dating Sim

9. Bon Appetit

10. Roommates of Poongduck 304

11. The Director Who Buys Me Dinner

12. Love Class

13. Cherry Blossoms After Winter

14. Kissable Lips

And I'm currently watching:

Love Sea; Meet You at the Blossom; Only Boo!; The Trainee; This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans

[allylikethecat]

TST: Can we talk about vampire!gatty lore?

Happy Talk Shop Tuesday thank you for sending me this ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC ask!!

YESSS Oh my gosh, as a millennial this is one of my favorite topics. I am ALWAYS down to talk about the vampires. I'm so excited to finish up some of my current projects so we can dive head on into the Vampire 75 situation.

As previously established, Vampire!Fictional!George is the one that turns Fictional!Matty into a vampire and he does so to save his life. Vampire!Fictional!George is then absolutely wrecked with guilt because he feels as if he has acted selfishly damning Fictional!Matty to a life of the undead. Meanwhile Fictional!Matty is just like, so happy and thinks this is the greatest thing to ever happen to him! He and Vampire!Fictional!George can be together FOREVER now because they are both vampires!! Vampire!Fictional!George just needs to ask him out...

Vampire!Fictional!George is not hundreds of years old. He's like twenty six. He's been twenty six for a few months. His birthday was in March.

Vampire!Fictional!George has some family in the United States that the rest of his family doesn't really talk to anymore. He does however make a point of getting tea with Uncle Ben whenever he is in Philly.

Fictional!Ross gave Fictional!Matty a vampire plushie as a joke while he was in the hospital recovering from the reason he had to be turned into a vampire / being turned into a vampire (The Incident™️) and vampire!Fictional!George is like YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT OH MY GOD IT'S SO INSENSITIVE meanwhile Fictional!Matty thinks its the greatest thing ever and names it Count George-ula, vampire!Fictional!George is horrified

Speaking of Fictional!Ross he may or may not be a werewolf, Fictional!Matty isn't sure and no one will confirm either way. He thinks they might be fucking with him but maybe they aren't? It's been an on going debate.

Fictional!Matty is extremely squeamish and hasn't gotten over the whole "he needs to drink blood to survive now" thing yet so he's just... not. This is not going well and Vampire!Fictional!George is even more pissed when he finds out.

Vampire!Fictional!George is so stressed keeping Baby Vampire Fictional!Matty alive is a lot harder than he anticipated - his parents think it's hilarious they're like "lol you turned him he's your responsibility"

Thank you for sending this ABSOLUTELY incredible ask and getting me all excited about Vampire75 again. I think I might have to go revisit the draft today and work on it some 👀 I hope you continue to enjoy my works and if you ever wanna chat about the vampire boys please know my inbox and my DMs are both very enthusiastically always open! I hope you are having an incredible Tuesday and that you have a wonderful rest of your day!

❤️Ally