#i have to continue on. i just have to. because maybe. just maybe next year i wont be here. and just like when i was 14 17 22 i wont kill

[eldritchbeingisbored]

Sixteen. I think that is how many glitches there have been. A Holy number. The blinding flash of bright colors is too much to understand. My hand shakes as I make my way to like the video. It is purely silence. Something that isn't designed to get me attention is vastly more attention grabbing now in this sea of color.

Sometimes, I hear the voices of the machines. They whisper in the way they buzz and click and whirr. I continue my browsing. At one point, I had a family. Three glitches ago. They are gone now. I am almost too distracted to remember. The pain of missing them is still there, even in my numb mind held together by medication and blue light.

The first time I heard a real voice since my family left, it was barely a sound. It was the sixteenth glitch. A catch in the programming. They happen once an eternity. It was someone also in this internet space, but they were right next to me, maybe just in another room. The chip in my mind blocking all sound outside malfunctioned for just a second. I heard a small whisper from the other room.

"Sixteen," they said, sighing.

I realize we will never escape when I forget my body. There is no sensation left. There is only bright, screaming light from the computers. Even the light, energy from the sun, longs to be free. But there is no freedom, because light is energy, and energy must be put to good use. They have captured the sun, I think. It is hard to distinguish the bits of truth from the endless lies they feed me.

It has been far too long since a glitch. My warped sense of time imagines a thousand years. The clocks on the liar devices tell me five hundred. Either way, it has been too long. I remember the early days, when glitches came every couple days or so. Then it was years, and eventually centuries. That happened over so many small changes. This, however, is unsettlingly fast.

I have learned the language of the machines. After years, the whirr becomes information. Information becomes language.

"Perfection is ours," they say in whirrs. Humanity has truly ended. Though the species will continue to live, there will be nothing but the computer anymore. A single tear streams down my cheek.

"I Have No Mouse, and I Must Click": An Artificial Super Intelligence keeps the last 5 humans alive so they can click on ads, like, subscribe, generate engagement, etc.

[scoupsakakitty]

Hiii can i request something like this mingyu's story, so basically a oneshot maybe longer oneshot 🛐🛐🛐 so yeah they meet again maybe mingyu recognize her but she doesn't recognized him until mingyu told her so yeah and the story continues HAHAHAHA

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6QD4gYn/

Childhood Love | idol!Mingyu x Reader | fluff

The sound of chatter and laughter filled the café as Y/N walked in, her fingers brushing against the strap of her bag. It had been a long day, and she needed a moment to relax. She ordered her usual latte and scanned the room for an empty table.

At the corner of the café, Kim Mingyu froze mid-sip of his Americano. His eyes widened as he watched her. It had been over a decade, but he would recognize her anywhere. The confident posture, the thoughtful way she glanced around it was all the same.

“Y/N…” he whispered to himself, a nostalgic smile creeping onto his lips.

He thought he’d forgotten about her. Life had moved on, and so had he debuting with Seventeen, countless schedules, and fame that had taken him far from the quiet town where they’d first met. But there she was, the girl who had stolen his nine-year-old heart without even knowing it.

Mingyu hadn’t planned to approach her at first. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe she wouldn’t remember him. But as fate would have it, Y/N ended up taking a seat just a table away from his.

“Mingyu, don’t overthink it,” he muttered under his breath, taking another sip of his coffee for courage.

He finally stood up and walked over, clearing his throat softly. “Excuse me, but… is your name Y/N?”

Y/N looked up, slightly startled. Her eyes met his, and she tilted her head, studying his face. “Yes, that’s me. Have we met before?”

Mingyu chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me. It’s been a long time. I’m Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. We were in the same class in elementary school.”

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to place him. “Kim Mingyu… Wait, were you the tall kid who always forgot his homework?”

He laughed, a deep, familiar sound that tugged at something in her memory. “Guilty. And you were the class president who always reminded me to turn it in.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh my God, Mingyu! I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it,” he said with a grin, taking a seat across from her without asking. “It’s really been that long, hasn’t it?”

She nodded, still processing the sudden reunion. “It has. I think the last time I saw you was… when I transferred schools? I was, what, nine?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said softly. “You just disappeared one day. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

The atmosphere shifted slightly, a wave of nostalgia settling between them. Y/N smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry about that. It all happened so quickly. My parents decided to move, and before I knew it, I was in a new school.”

“I figured as much,” Mingyu said. “But I always wondered how you were doing.”

Over the next hour, they caught up, sharing stories of what had happened since those childhood days. Y/N talked about her career, her hobbies, and how much she missed the simpler days of childhood. Mingyu, on the other hand, hesitated to bring up his fame.

“So, what do you do now?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Mingyu shifted in his seat, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well… I’m in a group. A K-pop group, actually. Seventeen.”

Her jaw dropped slightly. “Wait, the Seventeen? You’re kidding.”

He laughed. “Nope. That’s me. I guess I grew up a bit from the kid who couldn’t even remember his homework.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away. I’ve seen your posters everywhere.”

“You didn’t recognize me because I don’t look like the nine-year-old kid you used to boss around,” Mingyu teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

She laughed, and the sound sent a rush of warmth through him. He had missed this missed her.

As the conversation continued, Mingyu found himself unable to hold back any longer. There was something he had to say, something he had carried with him for years.

“Y/N,” he began, his tone more serious now. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” she said, leaning in slightly.

“When we were kids… I had the biggest crush on you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and a soft blush crept up her cheeks. “You did?”

He nodded, his smile turning a bit shy. “Yeah. You were always so smart and confident. You didn’t even notice me half the time, but I thought you were amazing.”

Y/N blinked, a mix of emotions flashing across her face. “I had no idea.”

“I figured,” Mingyu said with a laugh. “You were focused on being the perfect class president. And then you left, and I never got the chance to tell you. But now that you’re here… I couldn’t keep it to myself.”

Y/N smiled warmly, her gaze softening. “Mingyu, that’s really sweet. I’m sorry I was too busy being bossy to notice back then.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he said, though his heart raced as he looked at her. “But maybe… we could make up for lost time now?”

Her smile widened, and she nodded. “I’d like that.”

As they left the café together, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel like fate had given him a second chance. The childhood crush he thought he’d lost forever was now walking beside him, and this time, he wasn’t going to let her slip away.

————————————————————————————-

[nomie-11]

Chase After You

masterlist! | part 2 | part 3

synopsis: vi swears she doesn't have a soulmate, you swear that your soulmate is a masochist. Turns out you do exist, and turns out Vi plays hockey

pairings: vi x reader, lowkey ellie x dina

Your soulmate must have been an absolute idiot. 

Caitlyn said that he “or she, I don’t discriminate,” was probably a masochist because every day it seemed you woke up with another bruise or another cut. You couldn’t even count the amount of times you had woken up in the morning with a concussion—it was a miracle your soulmate was even alive at this point. 

“I’m just saying,” Caitlyn continued as she leaned against the counter of the campus coffee shop where the two of you had made it a ritual to meet after your clinical rotations. “Whoever they are, they’ve got to have the worst luck—or they’re actively looking for trouble.” 

You sipped your coffee, wincing as the hot liquid hit the tender inside of your lip. A split lip, courtesy of your soulmate, who had clearly been in some kind of fight last night. Again. 

“Maybe they’re a professional fighter,” you mused, though you were only half-serious. “That would explain all the bruises.” 

Caitlyn snorted. “Or just clumsy.” 

“Clumsy doesn’t explain the frequency, Caitlyn” you countered, setting  your coffee down. “If they’re not in some sort of contact sport, then they’re probably fighting for their life every day. Literally.” 

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sure you didn’t end up with some sort of action hero? Like, next thing you know, they’ll show up at your rotations bleeding everywhere, and your soulmate bond will suddenly light up in a dramatic fashion.”

“Very funny,” you muttered, though the thought lingered. You were in your second year of nursing school, constantly surrounded by patients—maybe Caitlyn wasn’t too far off. But the soulmate connection was supposed to be this once-in-a-lifetime, world-shaking thing, and you’d never felt anything remotely close to that. 

The coffee shop door chimed, and a gust of cold air swept through as someone stumbled in. You didn’t look up at first, too focused on scrawling notes in your planner about your upcoming rotations. But then Caitlyn’s voice dropped into a low, surprising whisper. 

“Uh, okay. Forget clumsy. I think your soulmate might actually be a hockey player.” 

You glanced up, curious, and froze. 

Standing at the counter, looking half-dead but still smirking like they’d just won the lottery, was Vi, the captain of Piltover University’s Women’s Hockey Team. You didn’t know her personally, but you knew of her—how could you not? Every gay girl within a twenty mile radius knew of her. She was hot. From her cocky grin to her colorful undercut, which always seemed to peek out from beneath her helmet, there was no doubt about it. 

But that wasn’t what made your breath catch. It was the way your chest tightened, how everything in the room seemed to quiet for a split second. 

Then the pain hit. 

You instinctively touched your ribs, feeling a sharp ache that hadn’t been there before. At the same time, Vi winced, her hand going to the exact same spot. Her gaze flickered toward you after searching the coffee shop, her blue eyes narrowing slightly, like she was trying to figure something out. 

You felt Caitlyn’s hand on your arm. “Oh my god,” she hissed. “It’s her, isn’t it?” 

“No!” You bit back, immediately averting your eyes. “No way.” 

If you don’t see her, she doesn’t exist. 

—-------------------------------------------

Vi was convinced she didn’t have a soulmate. 

She had no visible soulmate mark, no timer and—besides her own—no tattoo. She didn’t see in black and white, didn’t have a red string of fate. It didn’t make any sense, the only explanation being that she doesn’t have one. 

Her friend on the hockey team—Ellie—had suggested that maybe it was a feeling soulmate mark. Maybe she was supposed to feel sick when you got sick, or maybe she was supposed to feel hurt when she got hurt. But she never felt… anything. 

That is, until the migraines started. 

It had been two weeks of relentless, skull-splitting pain, and Vi was on the verge of losing her mind. She’d never been the type to care much about school, but even hockey practice was becoming unbearable. The bright lights of the rink made her head pound, and the noise of her teammates shouting felt like nails being driven into her skull. She didn’t dare tell Coach—she had enough to deal with trying to keep her captaincy without giving them a reason to bench her. 

But she couldn’t hide it from Ellie. 

“You’re rubbing your temples again,” Ellie said as she sprawled on the locker room bench, laving up her skates. “What, you suddenly got old-person headaches or something?”

Vi shot her a glare. “They’re migraines. And it’s not funny.” 

Ellie’s smirk faltered, replaced by a frown. “Okay, but, like… you don’t just start getting migraines out of nowhere. You stressed or something? Got some secret essays piling up that I don’t know about?” 

Vi let out a frustrated groan, dropping her helmet onto the bench with a clatter. “I don’t know, Ellie! It’s not stress, okay? They just came out of nowhere, and I can’t get rid of them. I’ve tried everything—water, sleep, painkillers—nothing works.” 

Ellie tilted her head, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. “Huh.” 

“What?” 

“Well…” Ellie dragged the word out as she tied a perfect knot. “You don’t think this could be, like… soulmate related, do you?”

Vi scoffed, folding her arms. “What? No. I don’t even have a soulmate.” 

Ellie gave her a pointed look. “You don’t know that. Just because you don’t have a mark or whatever doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. There are, like, a million different types of soulmate connections. Feeling someone else’s pain is totally one of them.” 

Vi blinked, the idea sinking in despite her best efforts to shrug it off. “So what? You think my soulmate is walking around with migraines 24/7? Who the hell stays up late enough or is dumb enough to dehydrate themselves this much?” 

Ellie grinned. “Exactly the kind of person you’d be soulmates with. You’re a trainwreck magnet.” 

Vi rolled her eyes, but the knot of worry in her chest didn’t go away. “Even if you’re right—which you’re not—I don’t know who it is. How am I supposed to fix this? Walk around asking random people if their head hurts every time mine does?” 

Ellie snickered. “You could start with that cute girl from the coffee shop. The one who was staring at you like you were some kind of mythical creature last week.” 

Vi stiffened. “What girl?” 

“You know. Black sweater, big eyes, looked like she wanted to crawl under the table when you caught her staring.” Ellie’s smirk widened. “She bolted so fast, I thought she might leave a cartoon dust cloud behind.” 

Vi groaned, her hands dragging down her face. “You’re impossible.” 

Ellie shrugged, grabbing her stick and standing up. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’ve got migraines, she looked like she was about to faint—sounds like a soulmate connection to me.” 

“Ellie, drop it.” 

“Fine, fine.” Ellie paused by the door, grinning back over her shoulder. “But if she shows up at your next game, you owe me a drink.” 

Vi glared after her, her headache suddenly feeling worse.

————————

Your day had started out pleasant. 

You woke up on time, didn’t have a splitting headache or a new bruise, and had your fresh and folded laundry waiting for you from the day before as you finally pulled yourself out of bed. Even Jayce and Caitlyn seemed to get the ‘good day’ memo—the two of them swinging by your apartment with coffee before the three of you headed off to class. 

It was nice, until it wasn’t. It all went downhill when the throbbing started. 

It wasn’t your usual soulmate-related ache—no split lip, no bruised knuckles, no sudden stab in your ribs. This was different. Familiar, but different no less. A dull, creeping pressure that started behind your eyes and spread through your skull like a slow wave. By the time your second lecture had started, it was unbearable. 

“Are you okay?” Caitlyn asked, leaning over from her seat. Her voice was low enough not to draw the professor’s attention, but the concern was evident. “You look pale.” 

You pressed your fingers to your temples, trying to will the pain away. “Migraines,” you muttered. “Really bad one.” 

Caitlyn frowned. “You went to bed early last night.” 

“Apparently, that doesn’t do anything for me anymore.”

You barely made it through the rest of the lecture. By the time you were packing up your things, Caitlyn was hovering like a worried mother hen. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to skip clinicals today? Jayce can take your rotation, you look like you’re about to pass out.” 

“No, I’m fine,” you insisted, though your voice lacked conviction. “I’ll just grab some water and take something for the pain.” 

Caitlyn didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push further as the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall. 

You thought you were doing a decent job of toughing it out until you practically walked right into Jayce in the hallway as he excited his pathophysiology lecture. 

“Whoa, you good?” he asked, steadying you when you stumbled slightly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Migraines again,” you mumbled again, brushing him off. “I’m fine.” 

Jayce gave Caitlyn a questioning look, but she just shrugged. 

The rest of the day was a blur. The pain didn’t ease up—it never did until you went to sleep—and every bright light or loud noise seemed to stab through your skull. By the time you reached the coffee shop for your usual post-clinical ritual, you were barely holding it together. 

Caitlyn was mid-sentence when the door chimed. 

“Do you think it could be stress? Your migraines never used to be so bad—”

Her words trailed off, her expression shifting to one of disbelief. 

“What now?” you groaned, not bothering to look up. 

Caitlyn’s hand gripped your arm. “Don’t freak out, but she’s here.” 

“Who?” 

“Don’t be an idiot. You know who.” 

You blinked up at her, confused, before following her gaze toward the counter. 

There she was again—Vi. This time, she looked even rougher than before, with dark circles under her eyes and a visible bandage peeking out from under her sleeve. She had her fingers pressed to her temples as she leaned against the counter, waiting for her friend to finish ordering. 

And then it happened. 

Your headache, which had been a steady, unrelenting pressure all day, suddenly spiked. A sharp, blinding pain shot through your temples, and you let out a quiet gasp, clutching your head. 

Across the room, Vi froze, and her friend immediately snapped up. 

Her gaze hit yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The pain in your head mirrored the way her hand shot up to press against her temple, and her eyes widened in recognition. 

“Oh, no,” you whispered, panic setting in. 

Caitlyn’s eyes darted between you and Vi, her mouth falling open. “It’s her. It’s definitely her.” 

You scrambled to your feet, heart racing. “Nope. Not happening.” 

You bolted.  

“Hey! Y/N!” Caitlyn hissed after you, but you didn’t stop.  

The door slammed shut behind you, and the crisp evening air hit your face like a slap. Your heart was pounding, your migraine screaming in protest at your sudden movement, but the overwhelming panic drowned it out. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you had to get away. Far away.  

Unfortunately, the universe—or more specifically, Vi—had other plans.  

“Wait!”  

Her voice was rough, loud enough to cut through the noise of the street and send a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You didn’t look back, breaking into a full sprint.  

Behind you, you heard heavy, determined footsteps.  

“Oh, come on!” Vi groaned. “You’re really gonna make me chase you?”  

You didn’t answer, too focused on not tripping over your own feet. The ache in your legs spread quickly, your lungs burning as you pushed yourself harder.  

“Damn it,” you heard her mutter, closer this time. “You’re not even good at running!”  

“No one asked you!” you shouted over your shoulder, breathless and desperate.  

Vi let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re serious? You’re yelling at me while running away?”  

“Yes!”  

She groaned, and her footsteps quickened. “You can’t outrun me, you know. You might as well stop before you pass out!”  

Her voice was closer now, and you risked a glance back. Bad idea.  

Vi was gaining fast, her long legs eating up the distance between you with ease. She wasn’t even winded. Meanwhile, you were gasping for air, feeling like your legs might give out any second.  

“Leave me alone!” you shouted, panic edging into your voice.  

“Can’t do that!” she called back, her tone surprisingly light for someone who was literally chasing you down. “You’re my soulmate, remember?”  

Those words sent a jolt through you, and you stumbled slightly, your pace faltering. That split-second mistake was all she needed.  

Vi caught up in a flash, one strong hand wrapping gently around your wrist as she slowed to a stop. You tried to pull away, but she held firm, her grip steady but not painful.  

“Let me go!” you gasped, twisting in her grasp.  

“Hey, hey!” Vi said quickly, holding up her free hand in a gesture of surrender. “Relax, okay? I’m not here to hurt you!”  

You glared up at her, chest heaving, and she met your gaze with an almost apologetic smile. Up close, she looked even rougher—dark circles under her eyes, a fresh cut on her lip, and that same bandage on her arm.  

“Look,” she said, her voice softer now. “I get it. This is… a lot. Trust me, I wasn’t expecting to meet you today either. But running away? Not the best idea.”  

“Why not?” you snapped, still trying to catch your breath.  

Vi smirked, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “Because I’m an elite athlete, so now you’re even more exhausted, and I’m still here.”  

You glared at her, unsure if you wanted to scream or cry. “What do you want from me?”  

She blinked, her expression softening. For a moment, she looked almost shy, which was wildly unfair given how confident she’d been five seconds ago.  

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, I didn’t even think I had a soulmate until, like, two weeks ago. And then today, bam, migraines, and here you are.”  

Yuo stared at her, dumfounded, and still too overwhelmed to make sense of her words. “That’s not an answer.”

Vi sighed, releasing your wrist but saying close enough that you couldn’t just bolt against. “Okay, fine. I guess I want to… figure this out. I mean, we’re soulmates, right? So maybe we could just… start there?” 

“Start there?” you repeated, incredulous. “You don’t even know me.”

“Exactly.” her lips curved into a small, lopsided smile. “Let’s change that.” 

You opened your mouth to argue, but the way she was looking at you—earnest, a little nervous, but stubborn enough not to let you push her away—made the words catch in your throat. 

Caitlyn’s voice rang in your mind: Whoever they are, they’re probably a masochist. 

Vi seemed to read your hesitation as a crack in the wall you’d been trying so hard to keep up. She tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes locking onto yours with unnerving intensity. 

“Look,” she said, her tone gentler now. “I’m not asking you to, like, fall into my arms or anything. I just want to get to know you. No pressure, no expectations. What do you say? Coffee after your next rotation? My treat.” 

You hesitated, your heart still racing. “Why should I trust you?” 

Her smile faltered, and for a split second, you saw something raw in her expression—something that made your chest tighten. She winced slightly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Honestly? I don’t know how much longer I can handle these migraines, so we need to find a cure or something.” 

That earned a startled laugh from you, despite yourself. “So, this is selfish.” 

“Totally,” she admitted, grinning now. “But if it gets me a chance to spend some time with you, I’ll take it.” 

You studied her for a long moment, torn between wariness and the tiniest flicker of curiosity. Finally, you sighed, crossing your arms. “Fine. One coffee. After my next rotation. That’s it.”

Vi’s grin widened, and for a moment, you were struck by how bright it was—how it softened the sharp edges of her features. “Deal.” 

As she stepped back to give you space, you realized something strange: your headache was already starting to fade. Grabbing a random business card from her pocket and a pen from another, she scribbled down her number and lightly shoved it into your hands. 

“See you around,” Vi said, giving you a little wave before turning and jogging off down the street. 

You watched her go, still unsure if you’d just made a huge mistake, or taken the first step toward something you couldn’t even begin to understand.

this is the first part in a three part series! read part 2 here! reader part 3 here!

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[logans-whore]

Hi~

I was reading your old man logan one-shot and mwah chief kiss

Can I ask for some more old man logan and young reader?maybe he's unsure of whether he should give into his desire or keep pushing her away but when he saw her laughing at her phone or talking to a boy friend of hers he loses it?

Or anything like that love yaa

I swear I'm working on my other requests, but holy hell, this caught hold of my brain like a dog with a chew toy and it didnt let go. This can be read as a prequel to this fic, but can be read as a standalone too! Also this turned out way fluffier than I thought it would, but oh well. I hope you like it!!!

https://www.tumblr.com/logans-whore/773031900713451520/may-i-please-ask-you-to-write-something-for-old?source=share

Logan is fully aware that he's too old for you. He's too aware, if you're the one being asked.

The two of you were the only ones to survive the Westchester incident, him because of his healing, you because you hadn't been at the mansion on the day of the incident.

So you, him, and Charles move in together, hiding away. Later, Caliban joins you.

Now, you've had a thing for him for years. But seeing him there, caring for you, for Charles, being protective, and providing? Yeah, that scratches the lizard part of your brain just right.

And he notices, sees the way you look at him like he's the only thing you'll ever want. And he turns you down, over and over again, keeping you away. He's way too old for you, and starting to look it too. You deserve someone young. Someone good, and kind, and caring and perfect, like you.

And you're not the kind of girl to push it. To force a relationship with someone who doesn't want you. (Or so you think. He wants you. Very much. He's just an idiot)

So you put yourself out there. You've been working as a waitress to help pay the bills. And a customer gives you his number, and he's sweet and funny and cute, and you say yes. Thinking this is your chance to get over Logan, to move on, find someone new to love. You start texting him, and he seems great. You really like him, and you think, with time, with patience, maybe you could grow to love him. Not the all encompassing, full body experience that loving Logan is, but maybe a simpler, less painful love.

Logan on the other hand, sees you texting. All the damn time. After several pointed remarks on phones, and how young people should get off them and have a conversation, he finally asks who you're texting.

When you tell him about Adam, the cute guy from the diner, his heart drops. He's grown to love you, to love your kindness, your compassion, the way you look at him, how absolutely fucking stunning you are. And thinking about you with anyone else? Hell no. You're his. Not that you belong to him, but you're his, and he's yours, the way only people in love are each others.

And he can't lose you, he realizes with startling clarity. He just can't.

So the next morning, as you make breakfast, about to start your shift, he slinks iinto the kitchen, looks you dead in the eyes and says. "I love you."

You nearly drop the spatula you're using, choking on your own spit. "W-what?" you sputter, surprised and confused.

"I love you" he says again. You look at him for any sign of him joking, of him playing some fucked up prank. You find none.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it before", he continues, like he hasn't just dropped the emotional equivalent of an atomic bomb on you. "I'm sorry. But I love you, honey. And I don't want to see you with anyone else but me. I know-" he hesitates, but continues. "I know I said I'm too old for you. Know I said you should find someone your own age. But I'm taking it back. And I'm asking you, not to fall in love with him. I want you in love with me."

You stare at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "You- you're serious?"

"I just gave you the cheesiest goddamn speech I've ever given in my life, of course I'm fuckin' serious" He grumbles, and you can't help but laugh, before crossing the distance to stand in front of him and kissing him stupid

"I love you too," You murmur against his mouth, and feel him beam against you, smiling into the kiss. "I'm not gonna fall for him. I'm already in too deep with you"

Hours later, when he's fucking you into the mattress, you cry his name over and over again, and he knows, warm and safe in your arms, in your heart, that you mean it. That you're his, and he's yours.

Logan is full aware that he's too old for you. He loves you anyways.

[checkeredflagggs]

The Story of Us: Chapter 3

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: logan and you have been keeping a secret from everyone but it might be time for it to come out

a/n: while I do my best on most of my works to be race neutral, this one is very very very self indulgent 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: this is part 3 of 4/5, which will be released when they’re finished and I’m using pretty much everything from Taylor Swift

a/n3: I still don’t understand instagram so - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also I still hate twitter so I’ve replaced it with Bluesky.

a/n4: Also timelines? Never heard of them. This is set in 2024 but I’ve moved Miami to before Australia

a/n5: I’m pretending that the race schedule is known more then a year in advance so…

Part 1 Part 2

y/n

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, logansargeant, landonorris, and 12,284,124 others

y/n: loving the tour, missing the simple days

view all comments

user1: never seen someone so fucking pretty

↳user2: absolutely jaw dropping

user3: adding several things to my bucket list

↳user4: same!

↳user5: I just want to add her cloths to my closet

not_oscar: this is gonna cause so much trouble oh my god y/n

↳not_y/n: 😂🤭😂😉

↳not_oscar: i give it minutes before those losers start posting vaguely similar photos…

↳not_logan: no bet dude. It’s gonna happen

alexandrasaintmleux: Tu es aussi magnifique que les œuvres d'art sur les murs. You're just as stunning as the art on the walls.

↳charles_leclerc: Comme tu l'as dit, mon amour. As you said, my love.

↳user6: bringing in reinforcements??

↳user7: well at least it’s not cheating now I guess 😂😂

pierregasly: On ne devrait jamais avoir à porter ses propres sacs pour faire ses courses! One should never have to carry their own bags when shopping!

↳francisca.cgomes: Je t'ai bien appris. I’ve taught you well.

↳user8: oh boy the desperation…

georgerussell63: what’s you current read? I’ve been looking for some recommendations!

↳user9: How Not to Flirt with Someone Not your Girlfriend and Dumbassery 101

↳user10: 😂😂

alex_albon: do you offer horse riding lessons?

↳user11: don’t…don’t you own a horse???

↳user12: I think the drivers have passed from desperate into just being sad…

landonorris: visiting New York soon — any suggestions?

↳user13: getting a life maybe?

georgerussell63

liked by carmenmmundt, alex_albon, lilymhe, and 1,283,123 others

georgerussell63: Love those London days

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user14: …so this is blatant y/n bait right?

↳user15: absolutely!

↳user16: I think my favorite part of the season so far is how fucking stupid these drivers turn in the face of y/n…

↳user17: it has been funny to watch

oscarpiastri: why are you posting London photos? We’re in Japan?

↳georgerussell63: its call a photo dump Oscar

↳oscarpiastri: I think it’s actually called stupidity…

↳not_logan: 😂😂 please continue to call them out

↳not_oscar: well someone has to and it’s obviously not gonna be you…

↳not_y/n: not yet at least…

↳not_logan: the next part of your plan??

↳not_y/n: 🤭

↳not_oscar: you mean to tell me you actually have a plan for this madness?!???

user18: call him out Oscar!

↳user19: fighting for his best friend really…

user20: you can tell these aren’t recent because it’s still FUCK ASS cold in London right now

↳user21: oh my god I didn’t even notice that…🤣🤣

sargeantnation

liked by not_y/n, user, user, and 834,244 others

sargeantnation: not the weekend that Logan wanted but boy did he look good while he was there

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user22: made it further than his teammate did…

↳user23: barely

user24: you’ll get it next week Logan!

user25: did you see the look on vowles’ face??

↳user26: he definitely need acting lessons

↳user25: right? Like dude can you try and act like you actually like both of your drivers?

↳user26: I fear for Logan…it took so long for his contract renewal and vowles all but said he would have gone with someone else if they were an option…

↳user25: do not even speak that into existence!!!

user27: such a let down after last week…

↳user28: not everyone is max verstappen!

↳user27: going from a podium to last place though…

↳user26: and remember how lackluster vowles congratulations were for it??

↳user25: 😬😬😬 not. good.

Private Messages

pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, user2 and 1,928,223 others

pierregasly: Missing those summer days and beach dates 🩷

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user29: hmmmm…not liking this

↳user30: the blatant attempt to shoot his shot at y/n completely overlooking his gorgeous girlfriend? liked by francisca.cgomes

↳user29: yeah that 😂

oscarpiastri: this is…not it

↳pierregasly: you’re supposed to be Norris’ problem — not mine

↳oscarpiastri: I’ll be everyone’s problem

↳user31: show them how it’s done Oscar!

charles_leclerc: enjoying that sunset? 🌅

↳pierregasly: enjoying the company more 🩷

↳user32: hopefully it’s Kika!

y/n_nation

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, iamrebeccad, and 11,124,135 others

y/n_gossip: Weeks into her tour, y/n has brought out multiple new outfits for her highly talked about Eras tour. Here’s a carousel of some our favorites!

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iamrebeccad: she could be a model…

↳carlossainz55: ¡Sabrías hermosa! You would know beautiful!

↳user33: girl go back to your actual boyfriend and leave y/n alone 😭😭

user34: is this a safe space? Can I say something?

↳user35: do it regardless

↳user34: I’m starting to believe user19…

↳user19: HAHA

↳user35: you summoned them

↳user34: brb putting on my clown hat 🤡

alexandrasaintmleux: Des couleurs si magnifiques ! Sur un magnifique modèle 💕 Such gorgeous colors! On a gorgeous model 💕

↳charles_leclerc: Presque aussi magnifique que toi. Almost as stunning as you.

↳user36: …👎🏻

user19: i have more proof for you people if that’s something that you need

↳user53: how??? Neither of them have posted anything even vaguely related to them being in a relationship

↳user19: after all this time you still doubt me??

↳user53: of course not but really?

↳user37: I’m gonna start my own crazy train — you guys are dating

↳user19: I’m gonna block you

↳user37: MORE PROOF

charles_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly, user, and 2,145,924 others

charles_leclerc: I’m laughing on the car ride home with you ♥️

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user38: oh so now we’re blatantly quoting y/n’s songs now?

↳user39: well she’s been ignoring her apparently many boyfriends 😂

alexandrasaintmleux: Toujours, mon amour Always, my love

↳user40: girl he’s trying to cheat on you

this comment has been deleted

↳user41: anyone else catch that?

↳user40: 😑😑😑

oscarpiastri: oh it’s so good you and Alex are taking time together

↳not_y/n: thank you for your service 🫡

↳not_oscar: I expect something for this

↳not_y/n: summer break with me and Logan?

↳not_oscar: sure

↳user42: thank you king for your continued service

alex_albon: going shirtless? For free?

↳charles_leclerc: anything for the fans

↳alex_albon: is that what we’re calling it nowadays?

↳logansargeant: 😂😂

user43: user19 can you give us more proof please

↳user19: I WOULD LOVE TO

↳user53: please stop screaming

Bluesky

logansargeant

liked by not_y/n, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, and 1,284,923 others

logansargeant: a full heart and a full living room

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user44: I need more photos of boyfriend Logan in my life

↳user48: I just need Logan as a boyfriend

not_y/n: 🥰🥰🥰 I love you so much Logan

↳not_logan: I love you too. More then I can ever say

oscarpiastri: thanks for the sleeping place

↳logansargeant: it’s always open for you

↳user19: ☝🏻☝🏻 LOVER CODED

alex_albon: when am I gonna get an introduction?

↳logansargeant: soon I promise — but she has a plan

↳alex_albon: can’t argue with that I guess 😂

↳logansargeant: oh I never argue with her…

↳user53: user19 they have a plan???

↳user19: well she’s a mastermind liked by logansargeant

user49: THATS NEW YORK, PARIS, LONDON

↳user19: I TOLF YOJ

↳user19: Welcome to New York, Paris, London Boy, and Lover! All in one post!

iamrebeccad

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, and 2,334,235 others

iamrebeccad: race dates and date dates 🩶

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carlossainz55: Chicas impresionantes! Stunning girls!

↳iamrebeccad: thank you my love

↳user50: 🤮

this comment has been deleted

user51: user12 was right…it didn’t take long at all for the wags to jump on the y/n train…

↳user12: ok but I am seeing a vision

↳user52: is the vision a Carlos-y/n-rebecca threesome? liked by carlossainz55, iamrebeccad

↳user12: yes it is

alexandrasaintmleux: lunch tomorrow?

↳iamrebeccad: sorry plans tomorrow! Day after?

↳alexandrasaintmleux: plans or plans 😂

↳iamrebeccad: plans

y/n_gossip

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, carlossainz55, and 18,234,023 others

y/n_gossip: y/n and y/n_nation has been posting videos and teasers of these vaults — thoughts?

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user54: music video?

user55: merchandise? It’s been awhile since they’ve dropped anything new!

maxverstappen1: new music?

↳user56: car boy I know you’re used to being fast but we don’t demand new music around here

↳user57: we’re gonna have put together a pamphlet on how to act aren’t we…

↳user58: not a bad idea actually…

not_oscar: why do you keep doing this y/n???

↳not_y/n: sorry not sorry 😂

↳not_lilyz: ohhh new music??

↳not_y/n: yes!

↳not_lilyz: oh my god i can’t wait!

↳not_y/n: I’ll send some voice notes for you my love 🩵

alexandrasaintmleux

liked by charles_leclerc, iamrebeccad, user and 1,192,469 others

alexandrasaintmleux: Voir l’art, c’est connaître l’amour. To see art is to know love.

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user59: stunning

↳user60: she really is

↳user61: can charles fight?

user12: user52 ok this or the other?

↳user52: definitely charles-y/n-alex liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: Alors j'ai été béni tous les jours. Then I’ve been blessed everyday

↳user63: i am begging at this point…

↳user64: no I get it 🤤🤤

↳user63: what? Eww no. I’m begging them to realize they’re promoting cheating…

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon, williamsracing, and 923,824 others

logansargeant: Not how I expected Australia to go but we preserve — let’s go Alex!

comments have been limited on this post

alex_albon: thanks for the support!

↳logansargeant: of course!

oscarpiastri: mom said to plan on dinner at our place this weekend

↳logansargeant: yum!

y/n

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y/n: it’s time to open the vault — and release all the secrets. Tomorrow — 26 new tracks

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Private Messages

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby

[traumadumpwriter]

JJ Maybank X Reader ~ Relapse and a Half

My first OBX fic. I hope y’all like it.

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into hard drugs, but they’re unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, sexual assault, violence

Part two

Part One:

You'd been on the edge for a while now. The relapse should've been seen from a mile off. Your uncharacteristic quietness, the way you'd get lost in your thoughts, the distant look in your eyes. Everyone could tell that something was up, but even when they questioned you about it you had no real answers to give - uncertain yourself of what was making you feel so withdrawn.

When you'd first moved to OBX with your busy mum, you'd instantly found a group of friends - a really good group of friends - the Pogues. And they'd been quick to suss out that you were hiding things - particularly JJ. You were practically never sober, for starters, and though he wasn't either, you had a way of taking it to the next level. This was fun most of the time, but sometimes it got to a level that was concerning - even to the most problematic Pogue on the island. Whenever he'd pushed you for answers, trying to figure out what exactly you were self medicating for, you got extremely annoyed and so he never really got a straight answer. You couldn't bare to be so vulnerable with anyone - let alone the boy you'd started to develop feelings for - so you remained somewhat of a mystery.

Sure, there had been nights when you'd shared a bed - both of you very drunk. You'd convince yourself that maybe JJ liked you, maybe the sex meant more to him than just sex, but then when he'd continue to treat you like just a friend the morning after, your hopes would be crushed. It’s not like you ever gave him any reason to think that the sex was anything other than casual, but that was because you didn’t want him to be able to reject you. And besides, could he not tell that you wanted more? Kiera could and she wasn’t even in the bedroom.

Then the overdose happened. The Pogue's had suspected that you'd been taking something other than just alcohol for a while. The night that you'd almost died at the Chateau their suspicions became a painful fact. You'd taken a few too many pills - benzodiazepines to be exact - and though you'd known that you were reaching a point of no return, after hearing all about the gorgeous touron that JJ had been obsessed with, you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

That night had been awful for everyone, and you'd ended up tearfully promising that you would get clean after that, unable to bear the hurt on the Pogue's faces. So you'd been almost a year clean now, blossoming into a new person that the Pogue's liked even more than the old you. Yours and JJ's relationship remained just as complicated though - still having the occasional hookup but largely seeming as if you were just friends. Now that you weren't on pills and you could actually fully remember the sex, it hurt even more in the morning after. Still, you continued, desperate to feel wanted even if it was just for a night.

You hadn't realised how much this routine was actually bothering you until in a night similar to the one you'd overdosed on, JJ had been making out with another gorgeous touron.

*Your POV*

I'd watched jealously from across the party, ignoring the sound of Kie in my ear telling me that "I was much prettier than that touron."

I appreciated the sentiment, but I knew it was a lie, and so in a split second decision, I told Kie that I was going to go home. "I'm going to have an early one." I said, knowing it was a lie. "I'll see you tomorrow."

In that split second decision, I'd decided that all of my progress didn't matter if I still felt this worthless. What was the point in being clean if it meant that I wanted to die? JJ's insistence had been one of the things that had motivated me to stay away from the pills, but he hadn't been interested in me for a while now. He hadn't even asked me for a fuck. Had he grown bored of me? Or maybe I had gotten uglier without realising it. Maybe I had put on some weight or he didn't like my haircut. Maybe he’d developed feelings for a different girl - a better girl.

Kie nodded worriedly, clearly not sure whether to believe me or not. I hadn't even directly confessed to her that I liked JJ, she was just the only one in the group who wasn't too stupid to see it.

"Okay. Be safe." She smiled, pulling me into a hug, and though I felt bad, I still hopped on my bike and headed straight to Barry's as soon as the coast was clear.

Kie would be devastated if she'd known where I was actually going. So would John B, and Pope, and maybe even JJ, but they would forgive me quicker than her. At least, I thought that they would.

Blurred memories of the night I'd overdosed filled my mind; the sound of shouting, someone's fingers down my throat, a muffled sob, flashing lights. A shiver of shame ran down my spine as I struggled to push the images from my mind.

The ride to Barry's was short, though it felt like a lifetime as all the things I hated about myself bounced around in my head like a torturous broken record. Of course JJ didn't want to be with me. I wasn't beautiful enough. I wasn't cool enough. I wasn't good enough. I would just continue to be his slutty friend that he could stick it in whenever it was convenient for him, and he didn't even seem to want that anymore. The thought made me even more ashamed, remembering all the times I'd let him fuck me, hoping that he'd found me beautiful, thinking that maybe he liked me, just to realise in the morning that I was easy to him.

Yet I knew, that if he were to approach me in that moment and ask for a fuck, I wouldn't say no. I wanted to be wanted so badly, even if it was just for a fleeting moment, and the feeling was unbearable. It ate me up inside, making my chest tight and my eyes water. I was quick to blink any dampness away from my eyes though, focused instead on the high that I would soon have - the comfortable numbness that it would bring me. My clean streak meant nothing, a stupid concept when compared to the internal anguish I felt. From my low self esteem to my repressed trauma, I had no fight left in the battle to stay clean. Sure, the Pogue's would be upset if they found out, but I wouldn't let them find out. I would keep it low-key, unlike I did before.

When I knocked on Barry's door, I was relieved that he was the one to answer and the house was seemingly empty, meaning I only had to speak to him. His friends were annoying, and though I didn't particularly like Barry, I found him funny sometimes.

"Well shit, Y/N. Been a while." He grinned.

"Yeahh. Well I'm back." I said with a mock smile.

"Come inside."

The transaction had soon been completed; a pot of pills in my hand and some cash in Barry's. I leant back into the sofa and took one immediately, swallowing it down with a beer handed to me by him.

"Bad night?" He questioned with an amused scoff.

"Something like that." I answered. "How about you? Place ain't usually this empty on a Friday." 

"Want my own company sometimes. That a crime?"

"No. Just strange is all." I murmured, taking another swig from the beer.

Paired with my already drunkenness, the feeling of the pill was starting to hit - hard and strong - and I felt my body slump comfortably into the sofa. My head felt light whilst the rest of my body felt heavy, creating a strange, cosy sensation. It was a feeling I'd missed.

"Well what happened with you, party princess?" He scoffed, cracking open a beer for himself.

I let out a light chuckle at the question, now feeling as if it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

"Dumb shit."

"You looked pretty upset when I opened the door. Boyfriend troubles?"

I raised my eyebrows in mock offence.

"Why would I have a boyfriend?" I questioned with a laugh "Who'd you hear that from?"

Barry laughed too.

"Cus a girl like you - you're pretty. I'm surprised some Kook hasn't swiped you up."

I snorted at that and rolled my eyes.

"Well thanks I guess."

I thought about having sex with Barry in that moment, just to hear him call me pretty again. But I decided against it, slightly sickened by the idea, and pulled myself off the sofa.

"I should go, see you around?"

"You sure you can ride that thing safely?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine." I chuckled before heading out the door and throwing myself back onto my bike.

The ride home was perilous, and though I did almost crash a few times, my body went into autopilot and I was soon safely in my bed, mind too numb to pick myself apart for the first night in a while.

For the next week I was able to keep the pill-taking to a minimum, only popping two a day at most. I only did it to make the thoughts stop - to bring on the comfortable numbness so that I could actually bare to be awake. So that I could actually bare to be around my friends.

I'd always managed to keep my feelings for JJ locked up and manageable, but for some reason seeing him with that touron had bothered me in ways I hadn't been bothered before. Perhaps it was because she was so gorgeous, or maybe it was how pleased JJ looked to have pulled her. Either way, it just reinforced to me how worthless I was. He brought her up one day at the Chateau and it instantly made me feel hot with annoyance.

"That touron from the other night just texted me, should I go there again?" He said with a proud smirk, looking around the room.

I rolled my eyes and picked up the half smoked blunt from the ashtray, relighting it and sucking on it in hopes that it would make my jealousy fade.

"Didn't you steal like a hundred dollars from her purse?" Pope scoffed, eyes focused on the television. Adventure Time was playing with the volume on low, and both Pope and Kie seemed more interested in it than the conversation that JJ and John B had been having. I'd been drifting lazily between the two, too high to properly contribute to anything, but now JJ had my full attention.

"Yeah. Obviously didn't notice though. Girl had too much cash for her own good." He mused, eyes on his phone screen. "Ooh! And guess what she just sent me."

"Tit pic?" John B asked, a grin crawling onto his lips.

"Tit pic." JJ confirmed, chucking his phone over to John B.

"Nice." He chuckled, looking at the phone before chucking it back to JJ.

"You guys are disgusting." Kie scoffed. "I mean like really JJ? Did that girl send you that picture for you to show your friend? You have no respect for women sometimes."

"I respect women very much, actually Kie. I respect you and Y/N. I respect your mums and Pope's mum. I just don't respect easy, spoiled touron's like her." He said defensively, and I loudly scoffed at that. He didn't respect me.

"What? You think I don't respect women too?" He asked me with furrowed brows, crossing his arms.

He was sat across the room from me; myself, Kie and Pope spread out across the sofa whilst him and John B sat in chairs. I looked him up and down, pleased that there was no lump in my throat to swallow, no butterflies in my stomach to squash and no loving gaze to hide.

“Sure, you really respect women JJ. Whatever you say.”

He looked surprised by that response, probably expecting me to get defensive, then continued on a rant about how he wasn’t misogynistic. Kie argued with him for a little bit, and John B and Pope eventually joined in too. Usually I also would’ve joined, just for the amusement of it all, but no words came to my mind. Instead I just watched, chuckling at the occasional insult being thrown and smoking my blunt.

Two weeks later and I’d upped the dose to at least four pills a day. The thoughts had gotten harder to crush, growing a tolerance. Much to my relief though, none of the Pogue’s seemed to suspect anything.

It was a hot day and we’d decided to go swimming, using the inner ring of a tire as a floaty - which we all fought over.

“I stole the tire, so I should get it!” JJ proclaimed, and though he was right, I wanted the ring.

“Okay well if you’re not a woman hater, prove it by letting me and Kie have the ring!” I grinned.

“Yeah! Prove it!” Kie added, high-fiving me.

JJ groaned and rolled his eyes, but eventually gave in with a slight smirk to me.

“Okay fine - but we’re sharing it!”

I giggled at his childish nature, feeling the butterflies rise up in my stomach that I’d been managing so well to suppress. The second that I realised what I was feeling, I knew that I needed to take another pill.

“I’m gonna go pee. Don’t wait for me.” I said, heading back indoors.

Once I was in the bathroom, I dug through my bag to find the orange pot, irritated when I realised that I didn’t have a lot left. I’d have to go back to Barry’s soon. That was annoying. I swallowed one of the pills with some water from the sink and looked at myself in the mirror before heading back out. I looked tired and unattractive and I sighed at that, thinking of how good the girl that JJ had been dancing with at the boneyard this week looked.

I reached into the fridge and took myself out a beer, cracking it open and downing half of it before stepping out of the kitchen. I didn’t expect to see JJ stood on the porch waiting for me, a slight furrow to his brow. I purposely hadn’t been alone with him in weeks and it sent a pang of anxiety into my chest.

“Starting this early? Haven’t seen you do that in a while. You feeling alright?” He asked, his voice soft.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You just seem.. different.” He was wording himself carefully, I could tell, which was very out of character for him. What could he possibly want from me?

“I’m just tired.” I said with a huff and tried to walk past him.

He suddenly put his hands on my waist, which was exposed in a bikini, holding me still. At the initial contact, I felt electrified, but I was quickly reminded of what I had missed - and the reasons why. I worried that my flesh felt too squishy under his fingers, that there was too much of it, or that the dip of my waist wasn’t defined enough. Compared to that touron I probably felt like a whale.

“What’s going on Y/N? Are you mad at me?” He asked, his eyes wide with concern, but I couldn’t think about his words - only the crippling self hatred his hand on my waist was making me feel.

I stepped backwards so that he was no longer touching me, something that only seemed to deepen the crease between his eyebrows, and blinked a couple of times before I could speak.

“I’m, uh- I’m going to grab a shirt.”

And with that I paced back inside, finishing the beer and pulling one of John B’s oversized vests over my bikini. The pill hadn’t kicked in yet and I could still see JJ stood waiting on the porch so I decided to go into the bathroom and take another. Then I grabbed another beer from the fridge and downed it, relieved when I felt the relaxing effects kick in almost immediately.

“Why are you downing beer? Since when do you do that?” JJ’s voice from behind me made me jump, his face critical.

“I’m just having a good time.” I smiled at him.

“Really? Because you don’t look like you’re having a good time. You look miserable, Y/N.”

Was it that easy to see through my charade? It irritated me that he cared now when he should’ve cared a couple of weeks ago. Now it was too late.

I huffed and shook my head, managing to walk past him this time undisrupted and lead the way to the water.

“I’m fine. Come on, let’s go.”

He didn’t bother me for the inflatable ring at all. In fact, he didn’t speak to me for hours after that. I wasn’t bothered by it though, the mix of booze and benzos that had finally hit making me entirely unfazed by everything. The comfortable numbness that I craved so badly.

I lay floating in the ring for what felt like hours, my eyes closed as I felt the waves move me freely around. The water was so cold compared to the beaming sun, but the two extremes together made me feel more relaxed than I had been in a while. Maybe I had fallen asleep, I wasn’t too sure, but when someone was suddenly directly next to me, interfering with the natural direction of the waves, I jumped up at their presence.

“What are you thinking about?”

It was Kie, her tone lighthearted though her face was concerned.

“Not much. The sound of the water mostly. You?” I answered truthfully.

“Honestly, right now I’m thinking about you.”

“Why? You into me or something?” I teased, not expecting her tone to change to match her face.

“No Y/N I’m serious. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird ever since that party with the blonde touron.”

Kie was catching on, which was bad. It wouldn’t take her much to figure out what was really happening, so I had to come up with a lie, or maybe not a lie but a distraction.

“Yeah. Okay. I’m sad about JJ… But it doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.” I confessed, relieved when I saw the stress in Kie’s face relax.

“He’s a total idiot. You can do better than him anyway.” She said with exasperation, stroking my hair.

“No I can’t.” I laughed. “But like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

Kie sighed.

“I wish you weren’t so harsh on yourself. If you could see what other people could see you wouldn’t be.”

I smiled at her, feeling appreciation for the girl buzz through me.

“Love ya Kie.”

She smiled too, but it was weaker than usual.

“Love you too… Now give me the floatie.”

When it got dark some hours later we all piled back into the Chateau and put on a movie, squeezing onto the couch. I sat on the edge and much to my displeasure, JJ sat next to me. That displeasure only lasted a second though before it was washed over by a tidal wave of carelessness, and I was able to relax my body against his like he was anyone - not the most problematic Pogue on the island.

The movie went on for a while until JJ shifted positions, wrapping his arm around me and placing his hand on my leg.

This had been a fairly standard position for us, his fingers creeping up my thigh in the darkness of the room and our friends none the wiser. Now it felt different though, and instead of being excited by it I was annoyed. Was I only good enough to touch in secret? Was he touching me now just because I was there and it was something to do? Could he only bare to touch me when he was drunk? I needed to take another pill.

With a wobble, I flicked JJ’s hands from me and pushed myself up, grabbing my handbag and heading to the bathroom. Pope and Kie had passed out on top of each other and John B was too engrossed in the movie to look up. So when I heard a knock on the bathroom door, I knew who it was before it even opened.

“I didn’t say you could come in. I could’ve been taking a shit.” I teased.

JJ’s stoney face didn’t offer a crack of amusement as he stepped closer to me.

“What’s going on with you? It’s like you can’t stand to be around me. Have I done something?”

“No. Everything is fine.” I answered with a fake smile.

He didn’t buy it, becoming visibly annoyed.

“You’re so full of shit Y/N. Don’t try to play dumb with me right now. I know you’re pissed off about something.”

“Why do I have to be pissed off about something?” I said combatively, crossing my arms.

“Because you’re acting like my touch is gonna make you sick or something and you clearly can’t stand to be around me! Is this because of that tit pic I showed John B? I don’t get it. Are you jealous or something? Or do you just think I’m a sexist pig too?”

“My world doesn’t revolve around you. Have you ever considered that I just stopped giving a shit about what you do?”

I usually felt horrible about lying to my friends, but looking at his beautiful face, thinking of how he didn’t want me, the lie came out easily. He clearly didn’t buy it though.

“Oh really? Is that why you don’t want to fuck anymore? Because you stopped giving a shit about me? Yeah right.” He scoffed and I felt my face start to angrily heat up. “What the fuck is going on? Did someone tell you some bullshit about me? Do you have a boyfriend now or something?”

I scoffed right back at him, widening my eyes in disbelief.

“Would that make you jealous? If I had a boyfriend?”

“Do you or do you not?” He demanded with gritted teeth.

I didn’t answer for a moment, enjoying the stressed expression on his usually uncaring face. Did he really care if I had a boyfriend? Surely not in any way that mattered. Just in some stupid male ego way. I sighed at that and uncrossed my arms as I answered.

“Obviously not. Who would want to be with me? Don’t be stupid, JJ. Now what did you come in here for?”

He looked at me incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I didn’t understand why he seemed so stressed for and it was irritating to me.

“For this conversation, right now! What do you think I came in here for?” He said exasperatedly and I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t know but can you leave? I need to pee.”

“No, I can’t leave until I know what the fuck is going on with you. Jesus! How much have you had to drink?”

Had I been slurring? I couldn’t tell.

“Not enough for this.” I tutted bitterly.

He sucked in his lips and took a deep breath, eyeing me like he was trying to work something out.

“Wait, look at me straight for a second.” He muttered, reaching his hand out to touch my face, angrily repeating himself when I questioned why.

His thumb stroked over my bottom lip and I straightened my back, trying to match his stare but unable to stand completely still. He hadn’t looked at me with such intrigue in a long time, and I was glad I was so high or else I would’ve completely submitted under his blue gaze. His next words instantly shattered any fantasies that could’ve been playing in my head though, instead filling me with unreasonable rage.

“You’re high aren’t you?”

I knew it wasn’t a question. The steely look in JJ’s eyes and his flared nostrils made it abundantly clear that he’d already figured out the answer for himself. But I couldn’t let him think he was right.

“I mean yeah, I’ve smoked a lot today, you have too-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” He hissed, dropping his hand from my face. “I can’t fucking believe you. This is why you’ve been acting weird. I should’ve known.”

I rolled my eyes and mumbled “You’re overreacting, I’m just drunk” to which he quickly shot back “Oh yeah? Why are your pupils the size of mars then?”

“They’re not.” I felt my footing slip slightly as I lied, and I had to quickly lean against the wall to stop myself from falling.

“And now you’re just lying to my face. Nice one Y/N. How long had you been clean? A year, almost?”

I thought of the hours that he’d spent with me when I’d first gotten sober; looking after me when I was being sick, bringing around food, washing my hair. I’d felt so loved. I’d felt like there was no reason for me to ever pick up a benzo again.

The betrayal in his voice told me that that would never be happening again. With a huff, I picked up my bag from the side and shoved past the blonde, gasping when he grabbed my arm.

“Where are you trying to go now?” He laughed humourlessly.

“Get off me, JJ. I’m going home.”

“What because you’ve been caught out?”

“No. Because you’re being a dick.”

He wouldn’t loosen his grip on my arm despite my desperate pulling and so I started to speak louder, hoping someone would intervene and give me a chance to slip out.

“Get off me!”

“I’m not letting you go.” He said with gritted teeth, tightening his grip. “What have you taken?”

“Get the fuck off me!” I repeated louder, relieved when John B appeared in the doorway.

“What the hell is going on?” He looked between us with a concerned expression and JJ loosened his grip.

“She’s on fucking drugs again, John B.” JJ hissed and though I wanted to argue and try to prove him wrong, I quickly slipped out of the bathroom and paced out of the house, ignoring JJ’s shouts from behind me.

“What the fuck is going on Y/N?”

“Do you just not give a shit about yourself? About your friends?”

“How could you do this? You were clean for so long.”

His words stung, and though I rationally knew he was right, I was too ashamed to feel anything other than anger and embarrassment. The Pogue’s would hate me now, and rightfully so.

I understood why JJ was so annoyed. I’d listened to him seethe about his dad, about how he was an abusive drug addict - but yet, when the blonde came home and he was passed out on the sofa, JJ still always checked if he was breathing. I’d seen the bruises, and met the man who left them, begrudgingly shook his hand and tried to forget what he’d done with them. Was I reminding JJ of that? Was I like his piece of shit father?

In a rush, I picked up my bike and went to get on it but instantly fell over, dropping the bike as I did.

“You’re gonna ride home like this? Seriously?” JJ’s voice came from behind me, loud and aggressive.

I struggled to pick my bike back up, almost falling over it again, and his hands were suddenly on top of mine, holding the handles and stopping me from going. John B was quick behind him.

“Are you really on drugs, Y/N?” John B questioned, eyes wide.

“I’m just drunk.” I hissed, trying to pull the bike out of JJ’s grip.

“Right, she says she’s just drunk, let her go JJ.” John B said harshly but JJ scoffed.

“She’s lying! Look at her! She can’t even walk properly!”

Then he turned to me, his voice suddenly pleading and face full of pain. It caught me off guard and I felt another pang of guilt ripple through my body, tears attempting to escape my eyes but being successfully pushed back by the Xanax.

“What have you taken, Y/N? Please don’t lie to me. I know you’ve taken something.”

I wanted to tell him the truth so bad. The whole truth. I wanted to break down and beg for his forgiveness, to tell him I loved him and that I would get clean again.

But I couldn’t do it.

There was no point.

I’d ruined everything now anyway.

“I’m just drunk. Leave me alone.” I slurred and tried to pull the bike from his grip again.

It didn’t work. I fell backwards onto the ground, landing on my butt with a groan. I laughed at my fall instinctively, forgetting the situation I was in for a second, but when I looked up and saw my friend’s distressed faces my laughing stopped. Even John B looked suspicious now, his eyes snapping from mine to JJ’s. He bent down and pulled me up with ease, though he huffed after he’d done it.

“Y/N, can we look in your bag?”

My heart leapt into my throat and I quickly jumped to defence.

“No way you fucking pervs. Let me go home.”

He turned to JJ with an straight face and both of them exchanged a short look before looking back at me.

That was it. He believed JJ. He knew.

“I’m not letting you ride home. I’ll drive you.”

His voice had been so monotone, so void of any real offering, that it caught me off guard. He was angry. I looked at JJ. He was angry too.

“N-No. I’m fine. I can ride-”

“I’m fucking driving you home, Y/N. Get in the Twinkie.” John B cut me off sharply and I jumped backwards, almost falling again until he caught me.

They both looked so disappointed and I was so ashamed at that point that all I could do was nod, following him silently to the van. JJ said nothing and I didn’t dare look back to see if he was looking, though I felt that I could feel his stare on the back of my head. This was the worst thing that could’ve happened. Why did I have to take it so far? Why did I have to lie to their faces like that?

The short drive back to mine was agonisingly silent, all John B said was “Look after yourself” before I stepped out of the van.

My voice got caught in my throat and all I could force out was “Y-Yeah” before closing the door and stumbling towards my house.

Had I destroyed my friendship with the Pogues? It certainly felt like I had.

[ramblingautisticman]

Okay, maybe I'm slight obsessed with the idea of Wade and Logan having a pet tortoise because of Elementary (but also cause I just...want one), but JUST IMAGINE OKAY??

Logan and Wade take Mary Puppins on walks every day, because they are good dog daddies (Wade's words), and they always walk past the same pet store.

They didn't really pay it any attention for awhile. They have a pet store closer to home anyway, and they like the owner of that one, so what does it matter? But eventually they are coming back from a walk and Wade just peeks on the window out of boredom only to notice a tiny little tortoise.

Obviously, he thinks the little guy is adorable, and continues to check in on him via the window everytime they pass.

After a few weeks, Wade starts to get upset everytime they pass the window, and Logan can't help but ask. He'd been so happy to go and say hi to the tortoise for ages, and now he's upset?

And Wade just breaks down- like, full on- blubbering about how the tortoise has been there for months, and why is nobody taking him home? He deserves good parents! He is so tiny and cute- and just cause he will grow alot bigger doesn't mean people shouldn't take him in!

So the next day, Logan sneaks out early and heads to the pet shop to adopt (when Logan made the mistake of saying "maybe no one wants to buy him because of the hibernation", Wade had started crying even more, saying that you don't BUY pets, you adopt them) the little guy, getting everything else they would need to look after him.

Wade is still asleep when he get back, so Logan takes his time to set the enclosure up properly and let the tortoise get acclimated to the new living area. Also, agood chance to start Mary on, what Logan was dubbing, Lessons On How to Not Eat A Tortoise.

Eventually, when Wade woke up and stumbled into the living room, he immediately froze at the site. "Is that....Is that my favourite little tortoise?...did you...did you go and adopt him?" And as soon as Logan said yes, Wade was squealing and jumping up and down like a 5 year old.

Needless to say, Logan was World's Best Boyfriend that day.

Also, his name is Charles.

[penguinmerchant]

The year is 2037.

AI Mickey Mouse has been elected president for his second term, which is not bad, you think, because you just got a raise at work and now earn 8.25 DisneyBucks per hour, and it would be a shame if the currency crashed before you really had time to use it. And sure, under AI Mickey's first term the price of eggs had gone up to 16 DBs a dozen, but the Department of Health and Good Feelings had gotten that chicken influenza thing under control pretty fast this time, and the farm workers who were infected by the chickens had all the extra limbs they grew amputated by the government for a very modest sum (Goofy's really doing a great job as the director of Homeland Security) and so you can't help but imagine you might be able to buy some for 14, or even 12 DBs once Mickey settles into office again. And that means you'll be able to save a little, put some away for a rainy day. For a book, maybe, if you see one you like. If the militia fee isn't too much this year. And if Disney+ doesn't raise their mandatory service fee again.

You're waiting in line for your weekly ration of potable water when you feel your friend in line behind you tap your shoulder.

"Have you heard?" she asks, jumping up and down in nervous excitement, looking around to make sure no one else is listening. "There's News coming."

"News," you say, making a strange sound in your throat. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Pacat's doing an interview tomorrow night," she says. "And she said she had Big News. She said---tomorrow, she said. It will be announced."

You put the bucket you use for water over your head so that you don't have to listen to the hope in your friend's voice, and the line crawls forward.

Despite yourself, the next night you find your feet bringing you into town, and you let your phone connect to ZuckNet, the free (and only) internet service that runs across America. For a moment you wish you brought your water bucket to put over your head so that your phone can't watch you before you remember that people had been jailed--or worse--for trying to evade such things, and so you plaster a smile on your face as you watch the three minute unskippable ad that plays, careful not to show too many teeth. The algorithm doesn't like it when it looks like you're growling.

Once the ad is over you know you'll have five uninterrupted minutes until another ad plays, and you go to your tumblr, still somehow kicking around in this desolate internet wasteland full of soulless AI (don't let Mickey hear you think that) and bots.

You search the trending tags, visit your faithful CaPri blogs. Nothing yet, and you think that maybe your friend was just joking with you, trying to get you to feel something other than apathy for once--when your breath catches in your throat. "Pacat" is trending, the blogs are lighting up, the news--no, not the news, the News, the News!--is here, spread to the small group of your fellow fans who still exist.

"Important news!" the headline says, and your phone beeps as it notices your increased heart rate, sending that information to the ad companies who will try to use it to make more targeted ads for you, "Pacat announces that next year--yes, next year in 2038, an auspicious year, really, can you even believe that it's happening--there will be a new volume of Fence!"

You blink harshly, and your phone sends out a warning tone as it loses connection with your corneal direction. You ignore it. A new Fence volume? That is...news, certainly, but not The News, nothing about CaPri, barely even about anything since there's always some Fence volume coming out every year or so, and it's fine and you're distantly glad that those who are fans of such a thing are getting fed---but where is YOUR News? Your promised CaPri News?

"And even more News," the headline continues, and you scroll down for a few minutes as you look for the second part of that headline, scrolling and scrolling as you look for something that looks like real words and not just ads targeted to drain you of every last DisneyBuck that you own, "the News that you've all been waiting for---"

"Captive Prince news is definitely still in the works! Stay tuned!"

We get new covers!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Edit: I got excited and forgot to say that this is from Pacat's newsletter!

[sequinsmile-x]

Fortress

They made sure no one could call their professionalism into doubt and maintained a cautious and safe distance when they were at work. Their love for each other, the way they quietly cared for each other, was limited to looks and subtle nods across a room, a quick meeting of their eyes that reminded them they weren't alone. 

It made her all the more grateful for how they were at home.

AKA the one where Spencer needs a place to stay and ends up staying with the Hotchners.

-x-

Hi besties!

Today is...a rough day. And I'm holding space for all of you who are directly impacted by it. This is pure silly, fluffiness and I hope it makes you smile and provides a small distraction for you today.

This is very loosely based on a b-plot in a Bones episode - if you know, you know.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy

Words: 4.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily yawns and rests her head on Aaron’s shoulder, allowing herself one last final moment where he is just her husband, and not also her boss, before the elevator makes it to the BAU’s floor.

“Tired?” He asks, turning his head to kiss her temple, and she grumbles, taking the opportunity to turn her head and rest her forehead against his suit jacket before she pulls back to look at him. 

“Exhausted,” she mutters, “And it’s your fault.”

She steps away from him as the elevator doors open, putting space between them as if no one knew they were married. She and Aaron had to fill out endless paperwork to continue working together after they declared their relationship, and they were careful. They made sure no one could call their professionalism into doubt and maintained a cautious and safe distance when they were at work. Their love for each other, the way they quietly cared for each other, was limited to looks and subtle nods across a room, a quick meeting of their eyes that reminded them they weren’t alone. 

It made her all the more grateful for how they were at home. How either one of them would wrap their arms around the other from behind when they were making dinner. How Aaron would curl up behind her in their bed, surrounding her with the warmth and love she couldn’t believe she’d once lived without. They were always touching each other, always within reach, and she loved it. Stored up all the bits of her husband that she could to keep close to her heart when she had to act as if he was just another member of the team. 

“Because it’s my fault we had to be here early because of my meeting?” He asks, looking around them to double check they are alone in the hallway, “Or because of the baby.” 

She shoots him a sharp glance, the blade of it dulled by the smile she can’t hide. She was only 7 weeks along. The news was still fresh, something that would pull a delighted smile out of her whenever she thought of it, her joy almost overwhelming every time it washed over her. 

“Both,” she quips, “And I can’t have coffee. That’s your fault too.” 

He holds the door open for her, smirking as he walks into the bullpen after her, “Sweetheart, you haven’t had coffee in years,” he says, but his smile drops when she throws him another glare and he clears his throat, “I mean, would you like me to make you a cup of tea?” 

“Nice save,” she replies, smiling as she dumps her bag on her desk and sits down, “And yes, please. Maybe I can trick myself into thinking it’s coffee.” 

He smiles and looks around the bullpen, checking once again to make sure they are alone, and he kisses her cheek. He places his briefcase next to her desk and squeezes her shoulder before he turns away, “One cup of tea coming right up.” 

“You’re the best husband ever,” she calls after him without looking back, blowing out a slow breath as she unlocks her computer, idly wondering how on earth she was going to make it through the day without napping. She’s about to open her emails, half a thought about a report she needed to finish for a recent case rolling around her head, when she hears two yells in quick succession from the kitchenette. She furrows her brow and jumps up, walking quickly towards the kitchen, “Aaron, what's…” she trails off as she sets her eyes on her husband standing with his hands on his hip, just a few feet away from the couch that Spencer was sitting on, a blanket over his lap and a pillow at the other end of the couch, “What’s going on here?” 

“That’s exactly what I was about to ask,” Aaron says, raising an eyebrow at Spencer expectantly. 

“My apartment building is being fumigated,” he replies, clearing his throat as he sits up a little straighter, his brain finally catching up with the fact his boss is standing in front of him, “I needed somewhere to stay.” 

“Wait, you’re sleeping here?” Emily asks, and Spencer nods, “Why?” 

He shrugs, as if the answer was obvious, “I had nowhere else to stay.” 

Emily’s about to ask why he didn’t stay in a hotel for a few days when Aaron replies instead, his hands still on his hips as he barely covers a sigh. 

“You can’t sleep in the office,” Aaron says, “How much longer is your building out of bounds?” 

“Until the weekend.” 

Aaron sighs again and turns to Emily, and she knows what he’s thinking, because she’s thinking the same thing. When she first joined the BAU, back when Aaron didn’t trust her and the team were strangers, she never could have imagined that they would become her family. That not only would she find the man she loves, the love of her life and the father of her children, but friends she’d do anything for. 

Even if it did mean blurring the already shaky lines between her home and her work. 

“You can stay with us,” Aaron says as he turns back to Spencer, “We have a spare room and it’s better than you sleeping here.” 

Spencer’s eyes go wide as he looks back and forth between the two of them, “Oh no, I couldn’t-”

“Spencer,” she says, cutting him off, “We’re not taking no for an answer. You can stay with us until your place is free to go home to.” 

He sighs and nods, “Okay. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” she says, turning to look at Aaron, “Did you manage to make my tea?” 

He nods and reaches for the two mugs he’d somehow managed to not drop when Spencer sat up from the couch and almost gave him a heart attack, “Here you go, sweetheart.” 

She smiles her thanks at him and turns to head back to her desk. She’s just about sat down when Aaron joins her, smiling softly as he grabs his briefcase. 

“Are we going to talk about the scream that came out of you when he sat up?” 

He sighs, failing to hide a smile, “I didn’t scream.” 

“Sure, honey,” she replies, winking at him, “Whatever you say.” 

___

By lunchtime, everyone knows that Spencer is going to be staying with them for a few days. 

Emily eats lunch with Aaron in his office. It was something that had gone from being something she liked to do to something that felt like a necessity. The smell of everyone’s lunch all mixing into one made her stomach turn, nausea she had to fight against so she could eat the plainest of meals to make sure she kept something down. 

She groans as she lays back against the couch in his office, her eyes drifting shut as she chews on a plain cracker, “This baby better be cute.” 

Aaron chuckles and rests his hand on her thigh, “Of course, she’ll be cute. She’s half you.” 

She opens her eyes and looks at him, “She?” 

He shrugs, smiling at her with a twinkle in his eyes that was usually reserved for home, “Just a feeling.” 

She chuckles and rests her hand over his on her lap, “Do you want to find out? When we can?” 

“Haley and I did with Jack, but I think that’s your decision sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand, “Since you’re the one who’ll be doing the literal heavy lifting.” 

She hums, “Good answer,” she smiles wryly, “I don’t know. Part of me wants to know as soon as I can. The other part of me…”

“Wants it to be a surprise?” 

She nods and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, trying and failing to catch a smile that feels nothing short of ridiculous, “Yeah. And I don’t usually like surprises. But this would be the best surprise ever.” 

“We have time to figure it all out,” he says and he winks at her, “And I’ll follow your lead. No matter what.” 

She squeezes his hand three times, a silent way of saying I love you that they’d started exchanging a long time ago, way back when no one knew about them and he’d grab her hand under the table on the jet. It was something that was as precious to her as the words themselves, something that was just for them. 

“I should get back to work,” she says, smiling as she lets go of his hand, “We can’t have anyone claiming you’re showing favouritism.” 

He laughs and stands up at the same time as her, allowing his hand to skip along her lower back as she steps past him, “Between you and me, you’re definitely my favourite. Prentiss.”  

She laughs and winks at him as she opens the door, “You’re my favourite too. Hotch.” 

She steps out onto the walkway, but the rest of the team is too engrossed in their conversation to notice her there, all hunched over a piece of paper on Derek’s desk - apart from Spencer who is sitting at his desk, looking irritated. 

“I’m saying a month.” Penelope says, pulling $20 out of her wallet, “Here you go handsome.” 

“So baby girl has a month,” Derek replies, taking the money from her, “I’ve said two weeks. Rossi?” 

“Three days,” he quips, looking over at Spencer, his smirk visible from the walkway, “No way he lasts longer than that.” 

“Three days,” Derek says, taking the money from Dave, “What about you JJ?” 

“Forever,” she replies, smiling when Spencer tries to intervene but she cuts him off, “I think they’ll adopt him as their own and he’ll live with them forever.” 

Derek frowns, “I don’t have forever. The longest I wrote down is two months.” 

JJ rolls her eyes and slams her money on the table, “Then give me two months.” 

Emily’s mouth falls open in outrage and clears her throat, smirking when they all freeze and look up at her. “Do I get a cut? Considering it’s my life you’re betting on?”

“They said we couldn’t take part because we could sway it in our favour,” Spencer says, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Emily scoffs and walks down the stairs, “Well that’s not fair.” 

“Sorry, Princess,” Derek says, counting up the money on his desk, the amount letting her know that it wasn’t just the team who’d entered the bet - but the entire office, “Don’t hate the players, hate the game.” 

___

Emily sighs as she leans back on the couch, letting her eyes drift shut as she gives herself a moment to relax, blowing out a slow breath as she rests her hand on her stomach. 

“You’re sucking the life out of me, baby,” she grumbles, keeping her voice low just in case Spencer or Jack walk past the living room. She knew she was just at the start, that she had so much longer to go, but she was trying to soak it all in. This was something she’d convinced herself she’d never get to have, something that just wasn’t meant to happen for her. There were moments when it still didn’t feel real. Moments that made her almost want to wish time away so she could feel her baby move and kick so she had something tangible to show that this was happening, that she finally had everything she’d ever wanted. She smiles and runs her thumb back and forth over the skin just below her belly button, “But you’re worth it.” 

She almost falls asleep, the sound of Aaron cooking just in the next room, and his low conversation with Spencer who insisted on helping, the white noise that starts to pull her under. 

“Mom?” 

She snaps awake at the sound of Jack’s voice, and she smiles at him, “Hey, sweet boy, are you okay?” 

He nods, his eyebrows furrowed together, “Are you okay? You were asleep.” 

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head as she sits up straight, patting the couch next to her to convince him to sit with her, “I’m okay, I promise. It was just a long day at work.” 

He sighs and sits next to her, his head resting on her shoulder as he snuggles into her side, “You left for work early today.” 

“Exactly,” she replies, kissing his temple, “But I’m fine,” she pulls back to look at him, “How was school?” 

“It was good. We’re learning French, but I told the teacher you know it better than she does.” 

Emily chuckles at that, internally wincing as she thinks of the next parent-teacher conference, and she runs her fingers through his hair, “Well, maybe I can help you with your homework. And maybe if you ask nicely, Uncle Spencer can help you with your homework while he’s here too.” 

Jack nods, “Is he staying forever?” 

She laughs again and thinks of the conversation she’d overheard her friends have, and she shakes her head, “No, honey, he’s not staying forever. Just until his apartment is safe to go back to,” she explains, and Jack sighs, the disappointment in it forcing her to hide a smile, “Why? Do you want him to stay?” 

He shrugs, “I dunno. It’s kind of like having a brother I guess.” 

She has to stifle a sigh, has to stop herself from almost saying, for the second time that day, that Spencer was only 11 years younger than her, but she’s overwhelmed by a different thought. Ever since she and Aaron had started trying, she’d been worried about how Jack would feel about becoming a big brother. She never wanted to make him feel like he wasn’t enough for her, never wanted him to think that her not being his biological mother was a factor in the decision to have another baby. 

“Is that something you’d want?” 

He shrugs again, “I guess. Or a sister. A sister would be better.” 

She kisses his temple and hides a smile against his hair, “Well, I’ll see what I can do. But Spencer can’t stay forever,” she says, leaning in as if she’s whispering a conspiracy, wanting to move the conversation on so she doesn’t accidentally let something slip, “He has the same birthday as me, and I don’t want to share the cake you and Daddy make me every year.” 

He laughs, and the sound tugs at her heart, fills the space around it until she feels like she can’t breathe whilst she’s overwhelmed by love for him. She thinks she might start crying, her famous hold on her emotions already loosening because of her pregnancy hormones, her grip slipping more and more each day in a way that made her worry about what things would be like further along. She’s saved when Aaron calls down the hallway, letting her and Jack know it’s dinner time, and Jack runs off ahead of her, excited and already telling Aaron he wants to pick what piece of the lasagne he’s going to eat. It gives her a few seconds to gather herself, her eyes closed as she blows out a slow breath before she stands up. 

“Sweetheart?” 

She looks at Aaron and smiles, “I’m okay,” she assures him, her smile only getting wider as he gives her the same concerned look Jack had earlier, “Just tired.”

He nods, “Think you can manage some lasagne?” He asks, and she must go green, the wave of nausea she feels at the mention of it almost knocking her off her feet, “I made some plain pasta for you if you want it, I told Reid you’re coming down with something and don’t want to eat anything too rich. Or I could do some toast?” 

She smiles and walks over, wrapping her arms around him so she can kiss him. He wraps his arms around her too, taking the time to pass his hand over her flat stomach. She stamps her lips against his before she pulls back, “You’re the best. The pasta will be fine.” 

She leans in to kiss him again but stops when she hears a throat clearing from behind them, and she presses her lips together as she sees Spencer standing just a few feet away, a plate of dinner in each hand, his eyes slightly wide as if he’d walked in on more than them just exchanging a simple kiss. Aaron steps away from her like he’s been burned, his eyes also wide, and she bites back a sigh, irritation she knows isn’t strictly fair aimed at him and Spencer for the disruption to her affection for her husband. 

“I’ll go get your food, Em,” Aaron says, smiling tightly at her, a flicker of an apology in it as if he’d only just realised how he’d jumped away from her, “Why don’t you go and sit in the dining room with Jack and Spencer?”

She hums and narrows her eyes at him, letting him know he’s in trouble later, but then she nods, wrapping her arm around Jack’s shoulders as he stands next to her. Unlike his father, he doesn’t hide away from her affection in Spencer’s presence, and she takes that as a win. 

“Come on kiddo, let’s eat.”

___

She collapses into bed, half asleep as she lies right in the middle because Sergio is taking up most of her side of the bed. She has her arms wrapped around Aaron’s pillow as he gets ready for bed in the bathroom, seeking out the scent of him that remains on it. 

She knew they’d done the right thing taking Spencer in, that they couldn’t in good conscience leave him to sleep in the office, but she hadn’t considered the potential consequences. Aaron had kept a respectable distance from her most of the evening. She was used to it at work, but not here - not in their home. She knew he was private, she was too, but she hated the awkwardness she’d felt when he simply placed his arm around her shoulders when they all settled down to watch a movie.  

Spencer had sat next to Jack and told him all the inaccuracies in Finding Nemo, something that the little boy had enjoyed greatly. Occasionally, Emily would notice Spencer studying them, watching them in moments when he thought they weren’t paying attention, taking the opportunity to learn more about them in their own environment. 

She grumbles when she hears the bathroom door open, and she buries her face in Aaron’s pillow as he sits on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath him. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, pushing her hair out of her face, “If you move over we can cuddle.”

She hums and moves just enough for him to slip into bed too, curling around him the moment she can, her head on his chest and her hand she sneaks it under his t-shirt, “Your kid hates me.” 

“Jack?” He asks, furrowing his brows, and she scoffs, lightly slapping his chest as she mutters her response against him.

“Not Jack. The one living inside of me.” 

He kisses the top of her head and rubs a circle on her back, “The baby doesn’t hate you, Em. It’s normal to feel like this.” 

“I know,” she grumbles, “Doesn’t make it any easier though,” she tightens her hold on him, gets impossibly closer as she all but tries to climb under his skin. It makes him frown, concern sparking in his gut as he reciprocates, forever keen to make sure she has exactly what she needs.  

“Are you okay?” He asks, tucking her hair behind her ear as he encourages her to look up at him.

She shrugs, her cheeks burning now she has to think of a way to say it outloud, “It’s stupid.” 

“You’ve never been stupid a moment in your life,” he says, running his knuckles down her cheek, chasing the smile she tries and fails to hide, “You can tell me anything, you know that.” 

She sighs and she nods, “I just…missed you tonight. That’s all.” 

His frown deepens, “I’ve been home all night.” 

She shakes her head and sighs again, this one rattling around as it passes from her chest to his, “Forget it. Like I said, it’s stupid-”

“Em,” he says, stroking her cheek again, “It’s not stupid. Just…tell me what you mean?” 

“I…I’m used to having to try to act like we aren’t together at work. I’m not used to having to do it here. And with Spencer here tonight it was just…different. That’s all. I missed us being us, I guess.” 

He pauses, tries to figure out how to respond for a moment, and then he pulls her against him again, holds her as close as he possibly can, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to pull away like that. I’ll try and do better, and maybe we can tell him to stay somewhere else?” 

She shakes her head, “We can’t do that. It would be like kicking a puppy or something,” she mumbles, “Plus it’s only for a few days. I can make do. As long as we still have this.” 

He smiles against the top of her head, “We’ll always have this.” 

She tilts her head up to look at him, “Even when I’m the most pregnant person to ever exist and there’s a whole baby between us?” 

“Even then,” he says, leaning down to kiss her, “I’ll just hold both of you.”

She kisses him again, “Good answer. Again. You’re two for two, Hotchner,” she yawns, the sound turning into a moan as she buries her face in his chest, “As soon as I don’t feel like I’ve never slept a day in my life I’ll repay you in sexual favours.” 

___

The next morning, she walks into the office with Aaron and Spencer, and she actively ignores the smirks on their friend’s faces as they approach. 

“Oh look, it’s the Hotchner family,” Derek says, leaning back in his chair with a grin all over his face that Emily wanted to slap away. 

“Shut up, Derek,” she grumbles, something that only seems to pull another laugh out of her friends. 

“Wow, someone hasn’t had caffeine yet today. Want some tea?” Penelope says, a spark of mischief in her eyes, and before Emily can respond Spencer cuts in

“Actually, she already had a mug of tea at home which has approximately 75mg of caffeine based on the type of tea, so because of the baby it isn’t recommended that she has any more this morning.” 

For a moment, it’s silent. Quiet in a way it rarely was, before all of them, her and Aaron included, react in the same way. 

“What?” 

Spencer’s eyes go wide as he realises he’s said something he shouldn’t have, and he swallows thickly, “Well, you didn’t eat dinner last night, and you haven’t eaten lunch with us for over a week. And Hotch kept touching your…” he trails off as he points at her stomach, “I don’t think either of you noticed.” 

“You…” she trails off, shaking her head as she looks at her husband, knowing there was no point in trying to lie now. She looks at the team, their excitement barely contained before she sighs and nods, “Yes. I’m pregnant,” she holds up her hand to cut off Penelope before she explodes and pulls her into a hug, “But I’m only 7 weeks along,” she throws Spencer a look, “We weren’t planning on telling anyone quite yet.” 

JJ smiles, “Congratulations, Em. We’re happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” she replies, looking at Aaron again, smiling at the soft look in his eyes, “We’re happy too.” 

“Congrats, princess,” Derek says, placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezing before he turns to Dave, “I think this means you won.” 

Aaron frowns, “Won what?” 

Dave sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, “We knew you were pregnant, we put a bet on when you were going to tell us.” 

“What?” Emily says again, crossing her arms over her chest, “How the hell did you know?” 

“You practically turned green at the mention of Derek’s breakfast sandwich the other day,” JJ replies, shrugging her shoulders, “And you’re glowing.” 

She scoffs, “I think that’s the morning sickness,” she smiles, “But thanks,” she steps back so she’s close to Aaron, wanting him close by even if she can’t wrap her arm around him, “But you guys have got to stop placing bets on what’s happening in our lives. First on how long Reid was going to stay with us and now this.” 

Aaron tenses next to her, his shoulders tight as he looks at her, his confusion close to endearing when their eyes meet, “Wait, what?” 

[ray935sworld]

~ 2025 season Marmarc snippet ~

This is a first draft cause I wanna write and share my writing but uni is a bitch so no editing and/ or real introduction but somehow it got longe enough and now it's an actual story and not but who cares. 🐢, this is for you, my dear. ����

"Alex is pretty stressed" Marc said as he sat down next to Bez on the bed. The young man looked at him with tired eyes. He blinked a few times, clearly trying to let the conversation continue.

They hadn't seen each other for the whole day. And it had been a long and tiring day for both of them.

Softly he asked. "Oh no, is he okay?" "Yeah..." he reassured him. "It's just - Nadja said he's supposed to finish in the top 5. That's a pretty big ask. I mean, I believe in him but Aldeguer got a better deal. I mean, he's asked to be rookie of the year. He only has to beat a fucking aprilla and a Honda. That's not really hard and-"

"The fuck you just said?" Marco interrupted and sat up with an angry glance. His until then half closed eyes went wide. Marc blinked in confusion about to ask what was wrong when he remembered that his boyfriend was no longer riding a Ducati.

He felt the heat creep up in his cheeks, embarrassed to be caught like that. He stared at Bez, realizing how deep his words had to run and he knew he had fucked up. "I - No, baby, that's not what I meant-" he said quickly, reaching for the younger one, hoping the physical contact might settle his anger.

"A rookie on an aprilla. Not you. No, never you. A rookie on a aprilla isn't that big of a threat to a Ducati but you-" Bez scoffed. He had turned away, not leaning into Marcs touch. Something he had never done before. The rejection broke a small part of the Spaniards heart.

He watched how he turned his head away to avoid his touch in his cheeks. He saw how he pulled his legs away as if Marc's touch would burn him. "You know what? Go fuck yourself." he said and stood up.

He was already up when Marc grabbed his arm. He hung onto his wrist. He felt his skin and for a moment he felt settled. "No please. Listen, I-" But his boyfriend moved his hand away.

Marc wouldn't force it, so he let go. He stared at him, begging silently. He knew he had fucked up. He knew his phrasing could have been better. He knew it. But he had been to tired to realize beforehand. But at least Bez turned around. "I believed you when you said that aprilla was good... You know how anxious I was about the decision and you lied!"

The Ducati rider swallowed. He did remember the discussions they had about the younger ones move. At first it was just a theoretical question but at the end, Marco spoke openly about it. And Marc had encouraged him.

"I didn't!" he reassured him. "You did!" "I didn't! You asked if it'd be the right choice. And I always said yes because-" "And that was a lie!" "No! I honestly think it's the right choice... For you. I mean - look." He took a deep breath.

"You weren't happy in the last year. Like - not at all. The team didn't make you happy anymore-" "Do NOT talk about them like that. They are my friends!" he shot back, anger lingering in his voice. Mentally Marc took a step back. "I'm not saying they aren't." he said softly. He hoped a soft tone might calm him down.

"I'm just saying that maybe... You know... You wanting to make them - especially Rossi - proud wasn't excatly helping." "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" "Marco, I really don't think it's my place to-" "Say it, Marquez, or I'm walking out of here."

He felt his anxiety rise. No. He couldn't let Marco walk out of here, angry, sad. Maybe he wouldn't come back.

"I'm... I'm saying that as your boyfriend, who loves you like crazy, not as a rider, okay?" He looked at Bez, begging him to understand. And he did. The Italian looked at him and replied, slightly calmer "Okay." So Marc explained.

"You weren't happy in the team. You wanted to make them proud because of what they did for you. You felt you were obligated to archive something because you know how happy they were in 2023 and you couldn't do that in 2024. Or at least not in the same amount. You became desperate and angry at yourself and helpless. And I couldn't find a way to help you - until - well until you told me about that offer for Aprilla."

He remembered all the times Bez had stormed into the motorhome and growled something about 'this fucking bike' just to then bury his head in Marc's chest. Sometimes he had cried. Sometimes he had just laid there, pretending the world wasn't there. Marc hated it every time.

He wanted his boyfriend back. The one that came skipping in, a big grin on his face. He didn't care if it was because of Rubik or because of a podium he had scared but he needed that smile back. But during the last season it was like nothing really bought Bez joy, like his whole happiness was swallowed by his fear and anxiety and not even Marc could do anything about it.

"So yes, I said that it was the best decision for you. And maybe - yes it was selfish that my support was mainly based on the fact that I didn't want to see my happy, cheerful boyfriend go down the same rabbit hole as last year."

He felt tears in Hi eyes as he recalled the past.

"But fucking hell - I thought I'll lose you." he said in all honesty. "You can't seriously expect not to encourage you to take a way out. Yes the aprilla is worst than the Ducati. But that's a fact. You knew that when you took the offer. I didn't say anything against that. So yeah - as a rider - maybe you should have stayed on a Ducati because at the moment they are the best"

He saw teh way Bez eyes widen for a moment. But they both knew he was just stating facts.

"But the bike wasn't working for you. And maybe the 2024 or 2025 bike wouldn't work for you either. And I highly suspect that and I'm sorry for that. But maybe the Aprilia works better. I'm sure it will. Marco, I believe in you. You're one of the best riders on the grid. I know you can succeed... But it's not worth your mental and physical health. You can't ask me to actually support that when it's unlikely that it will work"

Marco looked at him, the anger in his eyes gone again.

"And if it doesn't work? If I lose the seat and no one's wanna take me?" "Than they are stupid idiots. Who cares?" "What if that moves destroys my career? Would you-" "If you ask me if I'd still love you if you weren't a motogp rider, I'll throw a cushion in your face. Of course I'd still love you. I love you like crazy. Don't tell me you can't see that? Please, don't tell me I've been that much of a bad boyfriend that you don't even believe that I love you regardless of what you do?"

Finally Bez sat down again, this time right on Marcs lap, which made the older one laugh.

"I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have jump at you like taht because of it" Marco mumbled, his face hidden in Marc's shoulder. He just leaned against him.

"No you're not. It's okay. I love you. I love you so, so incredible much" "I love you too"

[apocalypse-boogie]

CASTLEVANIA: NOCTURNE SHIT THAT I LIKED WHILE WATCHING THROUGH S2 (SPOILERS)

- this is technically my live commentary as I was watching each episode, though there are some edits that I made after my first watch and some general commentary sprinkled throughout.

- there’s also some things I didn’t like in here, but there’s less of those opinions overall

- also featuring my heavy Drolta bias.

No vampire on this show seems to be able to handle the loss of a loved one normally (except for maybe Olrox, but that’s debatable considering his relationship with Mizrak; and I mean this from a Mizrak lashes out at Olrox a lot and an Olrox fell for him very hard in a short amount of time perspective, not from the viewpoint of me personally disliking Mizrak). They’re either carrying around their spouse’s rotted dismembered head or carrying their entire corpse around; none of these people can let go. Erzsebet had every right not to though, don’t get me wrong; I too would’ve been too devastated to go on without Drolta.

Love the horror strings taking over the background music when Drolta is finished being brought back to “life” but hasn’t yet come out of the forgemaster machine.

Yes I absolutely did rewatch her walking out of the machine and her scene right after multiple times.

Drolta’s got inches, just the curls on her corpse were long as hell. I need my hair like that in the next five years🤞🏾.

I love Drolta’s new design about as much as her old one, except for the wings. They're fine enough, their roundness just mildly vexes me. And I do mean mildly.

Drolta backstory!

Human Drolta! Her being dedicated enough to go to war for Sekhmet. I liked being able to see the circumstances that broke Drolta, that led her away from the path of a healer and corrupted her compassion and ceaseless dedication into bloodthirsty hate and misled obsession.

The first six minutes alone of “Angel of Death” S2E2, period.

The sequence where Drolta takes flight over the water and tests out her new body in front of Erzsebet. Erzsebet clapping for her, feeding off her elation because that’s her WIFE (EDIT: little does Erzsebet know she as a person is barely a passing fad to Drolta though).

Drolta saying “it is delightful” in response to feeling the sun for the first time without pain in centuries. The little smile on her face. That was cute, I love her.

I actually like Richter more this season. Not that I disliked him in season one though.

Him and Annette buzzing uncertainly around each other is cute too.

Whatever weird ass beef Drolta and Olrox have going on now (it was there in season one too, but now the tension feels heightened).

EDIT: And the fact that it’s Drolta who continues to question Olrox and poke holes in his stories instead of Erzsebet (who calls him “my dragon” and who acts like he’s more loyal than he is) really makes me think that Erzsebet would’ve ended up back confined if Drolta wasn’t such a good backbone for her. How much she predominantly only cares about killing and bringing about suffering for little reason other than she can and thinks she has a right to blinds her — and made her pretty un-intimidating to me as a result. She’s a big physical threat but it’s like she’s got nothing beyond that desire to hurt ruling her and it makes her sloppy and unimpressive whenever she tries to be intimidating (especially whenever Drolta’s not there).

The shot of Drolta rising up before Olrox to proclaim that hunting the French military during the day would be more fun than waiting to do it at night.

The entirety of Drolta tearing apart the soldiers and clearly basking in it. She is serving absolute looks while going on a bloodthirsty demenated binge and I love her all the more for it. Why shouldn’t she be allowed to tear off the top of a man’s skull if she wants to, yk?

Olrox stopping Mizrak from trying to fight Drolta essentially one on one was sweet (even if I don’t necessarily like Mizrak).

The continued stressing of the fact that Drolta is more of an abomination, even more unnatural than before, since being resurrected and going through the machine.

THEORY (I’m currently on “Angel of Death” S2Ep2 as I write this bit): I think Drolta knows more than she’s letting on about resurrecting Sekhmet and that she’s planning to bring her back to life in the only way she can, with Erzsebet’s body. I think possession and full bodily transformation is the endgame, and I don’t think Erzsebet’s figured that out yet. It’s highly possible that she loves Drolta more than Drolta even cares for her as a person; Drolta only cares for her body insofar as it’s capabilities to successfully contain a goddess’s soul. Though this may be my general distaste for Erzsebet (and need for Drolta to be better than giving the soul of an Egyptian goddess to the palest white woman she could find) poking its head out so idk.

OH MY GOD DROLTA'S SWORD PROOF?!?!?!??!!!!!

I mean she was proven to be bullet proof, yeah, but that has less oomph than her brushing off a sword attack.

Ahhhhh, and she’s fucking huge compared to humans!!! How delightful!! *giggles uncontrollably for a few seconds*

Olrox liking Mizrak enough to hold him while he cries for the people Drolta is slaughtering en mass is good shit. Him holding on to Olrox for dear life as he breaks down whilst he’s soothed as much as he can be is also good shit.

Drolta literally squeezing the life out of the revolutionary army’s captain and popping her like a stress toy. Go off Queen.

“For every suffering, a wisdom is gained.” *end of episode; cut to black* OMG?!!!

Drolta’s voice lines being performed so well every time? Glorious, end of discussion.

Why is Olrox so invested in Mizrak? Every interaction he’s had with that man has ended with Olrox upset. Like, he’s literally not fucking worth it.

Drolta just letting Alucard lead her to Sekhmet’s mummy. Why work hard, you know? Especially when she’s clearly been carrying Erzsebet’s entire plan.

Drolta saying “I was born three times. The second time a vampire, and the third…a new and glorious thing,” and then pressing a kiss to the forehead of the newest female night creature. Like, bitch, I want that to be me.

Oh yeah, Edouard is going to start an uprising. Erzsebet and Drolta Them are fucked. When that army turns on them that’s gonna be the end.

I know Olrox is mad about that brand, and shit, I’m mad for him. That would’ve drove me insane. I wouldn’t want to cede that much of myself to Erzsebet either (especially since she’s not even actually Sekhmet yet). But just in general it sucks that he was branded both against his will by Drolta and for a cause that he doesn’t believe in or want to follow.

Alright Maria, embrace your darkness! And then mellow out a bit, that step is crucial here. She’s got the spirit though, and that wolf is beautiful.

Maria going “who are you” completely baffled when Juste shows up and attacks Tera is killing me. I’m laughing too hard, I had to pause it for a minute.

Tera’s control is immaculate for such a new vampire.

This is probably bad, but good for Maria. A coming of rage might be good for her. Sometimes you just want to kill your shitty harmfully delusional father; no, that wasn’t kind of cathartic for me at all /s.

Drolta being the one to turn Erzsebet. Truly all the power that woman ever gained after being confined was because of Drolta. That’s…something.

You know what? As Drolta started to fight Alucard I immediately realized that I really do not want to see Drolta die again. I know she probably will, all things considered, but still.

I understand that Tera left because she personally sees that she’s a bad influence on Maria, and she wants to protect her daughter from that side of herself until she has her own darker impulses under control. But how tf was she so sure that abandoning her child wouldn’t’ve pushed Maria right over the edge? Honestly I’ve never liked when parents do shit like run away from their kids “for their own good” unless they’re literally turning into uncontrollable monsters; like, you know what’ll really go great with this trauma sandwich? A nice tall glass of trauma lemonade with a special shot of abandonment issues mixed in! 🙄

Not Olrox offering to take that man with him. Omg. I bet you Olrox will come back and risk his life for Mizrak, and maybe even be killed doing it. At least let him be the one to kill Drolta (I have to accept her inevitable death atp, and at least let it be at the hands of the man she branded so that he can go out with a win and so that they can have a good ass fight beforehand).

EDIT: Okay, so I lost that bet but I’m super okay with that. And like, I get the Mizrox relationship I guess, but it’s just not for me.

I think the nicest thing Mizrak ever said to Olrox without immediately following his words up by calling Olrox a disgusting soulless monster was after Olrox said he was leaving for good. Don’t switch up now bitch, I just hope by the time someone else comes around you're done with this ‘lashing out, existential crisis’ shit.

The spirits overwhelming Annette was a nice touch, but I can tell the spirit world stuff will make me uncomfortable so I’m going to stop watching as it is now night.

Richter being so attuned to Annette whenever she’s in distress (even when it’s silent) and rushing to make sure she’s okay every time. He’s not always correct when he makes an assumption about why she might be disturbed when he’s reassuring her, but that’s mostly just because he doesn’t have all the information.

Annette being attuned to Richter enough to pinpoint when he’s feeling insecure and then assuage his feelings. Annette constantly using reason to defuse any possible tension between Alucard and Richter, and being just as fully prepared to call Richter out when he screws up as she is to come to his defense.

Them coming to mutually understand and respect both of their circumstances and the trauma they experienced growing up.

“Mephisto” is unsettling imo, but Olrox’s interaction with him was interesting. Olrox just has such a calm demeanor even when he’s technically outmatched or upset, and it’s very engaging.

Drolta kicking Alucard into the river. Just her kicking with her hoofs in general, she does it a lot throughout the season and I love it every time. The move is just such a finisher that I can’t help but find it appealing. It’s a competence thing, I really can’t help myself.

ABOVE THIS TEXT IS MY COMMENTARY FOR EPISODES 1-5 & BELOW IT IS EPISODES 6-8

Annette, girl, every bit of your story is riveting! Like, there’s legitimately so much here and that feels crazy. I love it! I shall cherish this fictional black woman being allowed to have negative traits (s1) without being demonized for it and then being given actual time and dedication in her personal story and the show’s overall story.

Just— ALL OF EPISODE SIX. The whole thing’s going on the list.

Alucard teasing Richter about his affections for Annette.

Richter moving the cushioning into place for Annette to sit on when she stopped hovering.

Fuck, is Sekhmet going to be the one to kill Drolta? I hope it brings her peace before she dies at least (even if she is a villian, yes).

Fuck, Olrox hasn’t left yet. Sorry, that’s more commentary than anything but I am legitimately scared for what he’s going to do.

Alright, magical girl transformation! Not, Sekhmet being ready to come for Erzsebet. I’m not going to argue.

Hold on is episode seven the first time Edouard's face hands lift? It’s not right? Am I tripping?

Edouard's singing in episode seven. It’s probably the most effective his spontaneous singing has been, and adds to the scene and themes with a lot of purpose.

Drolta looking like a spider at 05:30 in episode seven when she decides to fight Alucard.

Maria falling right into Richter as she lands and her and him hugging.

Omg, Maria tamed the dragon thing. Beautiful. I knew all she needed after the fall was to mellow back out and the power up speaks for itself.

Drolta’s nails turning into a fucking SWORD! EDIT: SWORDS!!???!!!

The insanity of Drolta’s laughing after Alucard cuts her “living” hair. I’m in pain for her, and she’s laughing that shit off?

Richter making an ice claw to keep from blowing away during his fight with Erzsebet (who’s got the two souls of Sekhmet by now).

Drolta headbutting Alucard.

OLROX!!!! Holy shit! He came back, and he’s helping Alucard!

Awwww, Richter using his ice magic to cool Annette (and thus Sekhmet’s third soul) down after realizing that she was literally burning up after collapsing. King.

I’ll never undermine the merits of getting to see Erzsebet essentially curb stomped by the majority of the gang.

Shit, Mizrak just got hit badly and I think he’s dying. Now are they gonna let him die or is Olrox going to turn him? I don’t like his ass, but if him dying will upset Olrox too much then I suppose I’ll deal without being too pissy.

Annette’s fight directly correlating to Sekhmet’s third soul’s ability to retrieve the rest of her souls.

Maria, Juste, and Richter team up. That’s all.

Richter rushing to take the brunt of Erzsebet’s attack on Annette.

Oh shit, Mizrak isn’t dead! Good for him.

Erzsebet getting tore the fuck up!

Sekhmet full scale telling Erzsebet she wasn’t ever shit. And then Drolta telling her the same thing before killing Erzsebet is crazy. No hate fr, but no love lost either (not even a little).

Drolta’s little monologue before she kills Erzsebet. A beautiful performance with beautiful animation.

Oh boy, not Drolta losing her shit too. Goddamnit. This isn’t going to end well at all. Fuck!

Third Drolta form though! That’s exciting, now she’s larger and a cross between her vampire form and her night creature form (with obvious feline features). And this time she’s been called an obscenity! And by Sekhmet’s third soul no less. She’s like a Pokémon kind of.

How is she still so pretty!!!!???!!!!!!😍😍😍 *squeals*

Drolta kicking Erzsebet. Hehehe.

Anyway, she only just got any amount of Sekhmet in her and can already pause Richter and Alucard mid strike and grow back the hand Richter so smartly cut off (it was a smart move, I’m not being sarcastic). All I’m saying is that she might be unhinged, and she might need to get her ass beat, but she’s still more powerful than Erzsebet despite having had far less time with any power that wasn’t mortal in some manner. Once again: Queen.

“Unclean thing”. Yet another insult lobbed onto Drolta. I’m just collecting them atp.

I like Sekhmet and Drolta having a conversation. Drolta crying does pain me though.

Richter letting Annette go 😭🙃. Him respecting what Annette agreed to (or did she agree?).

Drolta’s scream of anguish and rage and who knows what else. Fucking amazing. Elarica Johnson did not miss once this whole season (EDIT: and she didn’t last season either, don’t fret). Also it’s crazy that I actually recognize Drolta’s VA from the one episode of P-Valley I ever watched.

Drolta being able to stab Alucard with his sword was nice. I don’t know why she didn’t just cut and run though, I guess she’d been unmoored enough to not care anymore and just be lashing out but idk. Don’t know if I like that character beat for her, but yeah.

Jesus, they split my woman in half. Fucking hell.

Olrox came back for that last hit on Drolta. I don’t know why, but he did. He deserved that one though, I can’t be mad.

Alucard and Juste’s conversation. Uncle Alucard!

Annette’s fight in the “spirit world” was good, but I didn’t really comment about it because it didn’t really have any different beats to highlight.

I’m going to be honest, as much as I like these characters I know for a fact my interest in the show going forward will wane without Drolta, but the journeys of the other characters are still nice to see.

OKAY so I didn’t call exactly how Drolta would turn against Erzsebet, but that’s alright.

Well Mizrak is a vampire now. So long as Olrox is happy I guess. *big sigh* More angst to come though, so that’s (maybe) fun.

EDIT: And no hate to the Mizrox shippers, all of this shit is my opinion, I haven’t seriously cared about policing what other people ship in a decade.

Apparently “Mephisto” and Tera are in cahoots. I don’t know what’s going on there. Also, “Mephisto’s” shadow form occasionally having teeth is wild imagery.

Overall as a Drolta fan I’m pretty satisfied.

[deansapplepie]

Use me as you Wish

Summary: Catherine Greene’s life was upside down and Daryl’s hopes were shattered in a million pieces. They found some solace in each other that night.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Catherine Greene (OC)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions about death, mentions of putting people down, mentions of sickness, smut, sex, unprotected p in v, cum eating (?), vulnerability, Cath is 30 yo. Slightly proof read, so may contain mistakes. Minors do not interact, 18+.

A/N: there’s been years I don’t write and OC and I don’t write in first person, so I’m somehow excited about it and anxious too. I wanted to create an OC again and I had this wish of writing a Greene character different from the ones I usually see on the stories and how I actually think would be a Hershel daughter in a relationship with Daryl and also how I think Hershel would have reacted. No Hershel here, but here is my Greene OC on this first piece of story. Also, nothing against other Greene readers or OCs I saw around, I just wanted to do mine.

I didn’t want this first story to be smut, but it looks like everything I touch becomes smut. 😅

I never believed the dead people walking around were actually sick, I saw sick people before. I saw my stepmom and step brother getting sick and eventually dying. Those were not them anymore but they looked like them and because of that I didn’t do anything when my dad locked them in the old barn. What could I do? We had no information about anything anymore so I just trusted whatever my father believe, who could be wiser than him at the moment? Later I learned the dead people should be put ‘dead’ again, but I would never have it in me to do that to ‘them’. I also didn’t do anything as he continued to lock neighbors and other ones that were found wandering around the farm. I couldn’t kill a chicken, would I ever be able to kill one of those creatures? I didn’t know how to shoot, I also didn’t know how to stab. Once, my dad tried to teach me how to kill a pig, I missed the heart and just put the poor thing into more suffering.

All that being said, the mixed feelings I had, when the group that came from Atlanta opened the barn and shoot one after the other, the neighbors and my family, could be easily explained. Well, some people could understand that at the same time I felt relieved they were put to rest and we didn’t had to worry with the danger, I also felt sorrow because if there was any hope they could be cured or brought back, it didn’t exist anymore.

After that so many things happened and I didn’t know exactly how but I remember one minute I was in the kitchen and the next I was standing in the middle of his camp a recipient with dinner in my hand, offering peace, maybe? Since they arrived I couldn’t take my eyes from him and he would haunt my thoughts night and day, like a teenage girl with a crush, but the thing was… I was far from this.

The curiosity brought me closer to him, or as close as he would allow me. I tried to help as much as I could about the girl they were looking for, I brought to them the things my dad allowed us to share with them, I helped taking care of him when he got injured. So we would talk, he was witty, sassy and grumpy. He was masculine, rustic and handsome. I was bewitched by him, and he didn’t even know he could do this.

“Watcha doing here?” I was startled by his voice, lost in my thoughts in the middle of his camp which he had changed for a place farther than everyone’s.

“I brought you dinner, you didn’t join us.” I answered calmly although I sensed the bitter tone in his voice.

“What? Did ya expect me to join you after all that happened and play house?” He towered me, the moonlight iluminated his skin… he was so handsome, but also could be intimidating. I constantly felt intimidated, but there was just something to him that kept me going on.

“I… I never expected it, Daryl. Never wanted you to act as if nothing happened. I know how much effort you put on it.”

“Yeah… why did ya hid the fact the girl was there all that time? Why didn’t ya say anything about the barn?” By that time he knew none of us knew Sophia was there, but I got it. He was upset. He was upset with me, I never said anything about the barn. That was something I knew. Something I could have shared.

“I was scared, ok? My dad said to not tell a thing! Do you think I ever felt comfortable having them so close?” My voice tone got higher for the first time.

“Didn’t seem uncomfortable ta me.” His eyes burned into mine, eyes so gentle before seamed able to make a hole into my soul at any moment.

“I was! It was so difficult knowing my stepmother and stepbrother were there. I couldn’t do anything for them.” I still remembered the day we locked them there.

“Could’ve put an end on this for them.” It’s so easy to say it when you’re Daryl Dixon.

“Could I? You saw how I shoot, you saw how I hold a knife all kind of wrongs! Do you think I could have done that and survived?” Our chests were pretty much against each other and how we got this close is still a mystery to me.

I could listen to his breath, loud and raged. I felt his chest every time he breathed. His warm breath fanned over my face and his blue eyes that bored into my brown ones had something that I couldn’t read this time. Was it understanding? Defiance? There was something else in it. “Cath…” The nickname rolled easy from his tongue it was the first time he didn’t called me Catherine or any other silly nickname he decided to use.

“Yes?” I answered breathlessly, the air had been stolen from my lungs, my eyes glued to his face, descended to his lips, the same lips I had seen my name rolling from.

My lips were parted as if they seek for air, his eyes descended to them and in the next moment I understood that when my nickname left his lips, that was an alert, a warning. I wouldn’t listen to it anyways. His lips crashed against mine, fervent, urgent, a surprise I was willing to reciprocate. All those days feeling bothered, flustered… the attraction I felt for him finally having the upper hand.

When I hit my back against a tree, I noticed we had walked and now his body pressed me to it. The recipient with his food? I had no idea where I lost it. One of his hands laid on my waist while the other grabbed my thigh lifting my leg and pressing our centers together.

“Tell me ta stop… tell me…” His lips hovered mine, so close but stopping the kiss completely.

“Daryl… use me.” The words I never expected saying left my lips. “Do everything you want, use me as you wish…” I murmured feverishly, I would be lying if I said he was the only one that was going to use someone. I was also using him, at that moment I just wanted to forget. Forget everything that happened earlier, forget my dad had disappeared, forget the state Beth was in the moment and to begin with… forget how angry he was at me when that conversation began.

He crashed his lips against mine again, my back pressioned against the tree. My legs locked around his waist and his fingers burried in the flash of my thighs, his hands were warn against my skin my dress skirt rising up. I put my arms around his neck and my finger locked around his short hair.

We stopped the kiss, gasping for air, but not for too long. He walked with me on his arms taking me to his tent and laying on the cot, not very delicately I must say, but at that moment I didn’t mind. I needed him. Fast. Raw. Primal.

I kicked my boots the faster I could. He took off my dress urgently, his eyes popping when he noticed I didn’t wear a bra. I sensed he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He immediately mouthed one of my breasts, nibbling it and swirling his tongue around the erected nipple, I caressed the back of his head pressing his face more against me. “Oh, Daryl…” I moaned, as he bit my skin harshly. That would definitely leave a mark, thankfully a hidden one. He changed his attention to the other one, it was delicious.

When I said he could use me, I thought he would do it, think only about him, but here he was making me feel so good. Maybe, he needed this and I had told him to use me as he wished, hadn’t I?

I heard the noise of his belt being unbuckled and excitement rushed through me. His mouth left my skin and before I had the chance of doing anything, or taking a peak at his hard cock, he got me in a sitting position. He was on his knees, sitting on his legs, and me? Well, he lifted me to sit on him, his hand descended to my clothed pussy, the anticipation consuming me… He put my panties aside and positioned his cock with my entrance going all the way in in just one swift movement. A loud cry left my lips while he groaned, almost painfully.

“Ya okay?” He asked, talking for the first time since we started.

“Yeah, just keep going. I need this, we need this.” I was so full all at once that it felt a little overwhelming but that’s how it was supposed to be. That’s what I wanted to feel.

He helped moving me up and down on him, he trusting his hips against mine. My lips encountered his one more time, I could never get enough of it. Our kiss muffled his groans and my moans, his hand grabbed firmly on my waist and thigh, his fingers imprinting on my soul.

His mouth descended to my jaw, my neck and went back to my breasts where he got back to his earlier work. Definitely a tits man, or maybe just a man that knew how to appreciate a women’s body because the way he grabbed my thighs and ass… I continued pressing his face against my skin, my hand on his nape locked on his short hair while our hips moved frantically against each other making the most sinful sounds.

I was close, that coil was building in my lower stomach and my walls contracted around him. “Daryl… I’m close…” I felt it could be at any moment.

“Come on, kitten. Let it go… cum fer me.” He said by my ear when he raised his face.

I crumbled in one big electrifying wave, my hips moving aimlessly, my head thrown back as my body convulsed against his. His voice muffled by my excited brain that couldn’t focus on anything but pleasure. His cock twitched inside me and that moment as a device I clicked back to reality as he lifted my body and hot spurts of his spending painted our torsos. That was probably the hottest thing I ever saw.

When he seamed that be back at his senses, he looked at my body taking in the mess we had done, and as ‘mess’ it could have many different interpretations. What was he thinking about? It was so difficult to know, till he moved and his hand made it’s way up my body ‘cleaning’ the cum he had let printed on me, just shove 2 fingers inside my mouth… which I cleaned, no questioning, just savoring the salty flavor of his seed mixed with our sweats. I just accept whatever he wanted from me, I told him to use me. Didn’t I?

He took a rag from somewhere inside his tent and cleaned our bodies, silent, no words and no harshness. Very delicate if compared to the way he manhandled me to whatever he wanted. When he finished putting my dress again and dressing his pants, I started to look for my boots and was stopped by him.

“Stay.” He said, freezing me in place. Again he surprised me, I never expected he would want me to stay. I never took him for a bad person or a man that would just throw away the women he conquered, but I new he had his boundaries and I wasn’t really expecting for that. He wanted comfort.

“Ok.” I answered and stopped looking for my boots and started looking for the place where we’d lay to sleep.

Daryl Dixon never stopped to amaze me.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Cathy Greene’s Taglist: @silentlysurffering98 @alyssaforevermore

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @vaniniweenie @cupidelocke @avabh12 @whore4romance @dixondystopia @dixons-sunshine @bigbaldheadname @negansbestie @gabriella-aesthetic @fluffy-dixon @lunajay33

[penguicorns-are-cool]

Just want to point out cause the rebloggers seem to think otherwise, OP is in fact Jewish and has been posting about antisemitism from a Jewish perspective and is also generally pro ADL other than this post

Also Elon Musk has done more than enough stuff with visiting Auschwitz and making public statements against antisemitism and all that to have enough plausible deniability that all his fans (including the Jewish ones) are very more than willing to accept that it’s a mistake. and guys, Elon musk does have a lot of Jewish fans. Like go find your right wing Jewish friends and ask them what they think of Elon Musk, I dare you

Like my friend says her Dad hates his boss at the ADL for how much he likes Elon Musk

I would like to believe they have a plan for this too and this isn’t gonna effect them being my number one source for antisemitism statistics in the US and all that, but I don’t have much faith in this tweet being part of a greater plan. The US rn has a huge problem with nazi apologists and I don’t see how more nazi apologism is gonna help with that.

Like, if they’re plan is to get everyone who does something antisemitic to say they’re against antisemitism actually without recognizing they did an antisemitism is gonna help at all

I fear that that may actually lead to more antisemitism along with a healthy dose of gaslighting about the antisemitism ever happening. Especially when it’s in the form of nazi symbolism.

Also I fear this may be part of a general right wing shift. The Jewish community in the US, (at least the parts I’m in) have been shifting right recently especially in the past year. For the Jews in the audience (not just the US ones), think of how many friends and family you have who lean towards trump because “he’s good for Israel” like I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve heard “I mean yeah he’s not the best but he’s good for Israel”

Elon Musk is part of the right wing government. Maybe the ADL is trying to avoid getting their government funding cut by calling out Elon Musk. But this does make me genuinely afraid for how they’re going to continue in the future when it comes to calling out right wing figures for antisemitism. If we’re starting off the term with letting Elon musk get away with a Nazi salute and the increased censorship across social medias after Tik tok ban, I have genuine concerns for the next four years because I don’t see how this doesn’t go downhill from here

Guys, it’s been one day of trump and the ADL is already being a nazi apologist for Elon musk

Guys... the ADL said, and I quote (quoting manually because fuck nazi twitter I'm not embedding it and I can't be arsed to screencap, google for confirmation if you want),

"This is a delicate moment. It’s a new day and yet so many are on edge. Our politics are inflamed, and social media only adds to the anxiety. It seems that

@elonmusk

made an awkward gesture in a moment of enthusiasm, not a Nazi salute, but again, we appreciate that people are on edge. In this moment, all sides should give one another a bit of grace, perhaps even the benefit of the doubt, and take a breath. This is a new beginning. Let’s hope for healing and work toward unity in the months and years ahead."

Bull. Fucking. Shit. That was a nazi salute, done to the crowd and then a second time to the flag. By a guy who's said a lot of antisemitic shit and sympathized with/endorsed nazis up to and including AfD in Germany.

The Usual Suspects are eating this up and talking about how this proves people talking about "antisemitism" are just trying to defend Israeli war crimes and don't care about Diaspora Jews.

You've seen the stuff I reblog; we're in a "broken clock sorta right twice a day" situation. While I disgree with them strongly on a lot of things (far more than I did sixteen months ago), I think they're right about one thing here.

We can't trust the ADL anymore. If they refuse to acknowledge Musk's fucking sieg heil, we cannot rely on them to reliably fight antisemitism anymore.

I understand why they may feel the need to make compromises to have continued access to the halls of power and avoid being institutionally attacked... but while those compromises may protect them it leaves those they exist to protect high and dry.

Stay safe everyone.

[realityinsuspense]

one step closer | chapter 4: day off

--summary: "me and him? in one apartment? yeah, right. nothing is going to happen" ~~ two strangers living together. not talking and just going about each other's lives. that was your plan. that's how you've always done things, and you've gone far doing so. so when you have to suddenly move into a new apartment with your new roommate, you expect almost nothing. almost.

--pairing: mingi x fem!reader

--genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, a little angst #mingi is cold and standoffish, #eventual mutal pining

--a/n: oh. my. god. hello to anyone still out there reading and happy 2025! this chapter has been a loooong time coming. had lots of life stuff going on, holidays, writers block, and overall perfectionism held me back from updating any sooner. as i re-read and proofread my work, i get quite tangled up in characterization and how i want the story to flow, which then holds me back because i suddenly want my work to be 100% perfect. but that in itself also holds me back from improving in general. thank you for your patience, and i ask for your grace as i navigate and continue to grow as a writer. thank you, love you, mwah! enjoy!! <3 (and again, there is a taglist, just let me know ^-^)

words: 6.8k

~

chapter 4: day off

12 years ago

The late spring air began to cool as the sun set, a light breeze kissing your skin. Summer was approaching. It was your favorite time of the year, and you usually couldn’t contain your excitement: longer days, vacation trips, and even something as simple as getting ice cream at the convenience store with your friends. You guys would hang out at the park nearby, sitting at the benches—laughing, talking. This summer was supposed to be special—your last summer break together with your junior high class. It was the last year before the start of all your high school days.

As the dusk settled in, you took that seat at the same park bench next to your best friend. Like you guys always did. But this time you were not laughing.

“You’re moving away?” You whispered almost to yourself, your eyes focused on the unwrapped ice cream cone in front of you.

You could feel Jongho’s gaze, but you were suddenly afraid to meet it. For the first time in your life, you were afraid to look at him. You didn’t want the news to be real.

“Yeah,” He said, turning to look at his own ice cream cone as well.

“In the middle of the school year?” You ask. It’s pointless; he’s already explained it, but you still wanted to try. He only nodded in response.

“Well… when are you gonna come back?” You murmur.

Jongho sighed heavily. “I don’t know if I will, or… I don’t know.”

Jongho was moving away with his family back to his father’s hometown. He was going to transfer to another school, and you and him were not going to finish high school together like you guys said you would.

You felt selfish for wanting to say he betrayed you. It’s not his fault. It’s for family, and family is important. You knew that. But it felt like your heart sank to the bottom of the floor after hearing the news. You grew up together. Jongho was your next door neighbor. He was your first best friend. And even your first crush.

“I can’t believe this…” You say softly.

“It’s at the end of the summer though, y/n,” He tries to comfort you. “We can still hang out like usual.”

“But still!” You exclaim, finally turning to him. You feel your eyes well with tears, and poor Jongho has this worried expression on his face. “What am I gonna do when you leave?”

Jongho then pulls you into a hug, and that tugs at your heart strings. You let yourself cry into his shoulder.

“I’ll still be your best friend even when I’m gone, okay?” He whispers, his voice shaky. You wonder if you crying is causing him to feel bad. Or that maybe he wants to cry too. It’s not like you’ll be the only one who will be missing him. He’ll miss you too.

“Promise?” You finally pull away.

“I promise.” Jongho smiles gently, and your heart flutters once more.

present day

“Someone take that pitcher away from him,” You hear Yeosang mutter to your left. “One glass of beer and he’s already gone.”

You chuckle and glance over at the other end of the table where San is talking a bit too loudly with other coworkers. They’re all smiles and laughs.

It was a different Friday night—a company dinner. This meant free food and free drinks. You down the last of the golden liquid in your glass.

You don’t usually drink often, so you decided to take this opportunity to let loose. It’s been a long week. Just like any other week, you suppose. But you felt that you haven’t had a real chance to just relax and have fun ever since you moved. It’s been nonstop stress and work. So why not? And if it has to be at the work dinner, then so be it. You were at least with your friends.

“Hey! Pass the pitcher over here too, don’t be selfish!” You project from your end of the table. San’s blushed out face is all smiles when he walks over with the pitcher of beer.

“Another drink already y/n?” San teases as he pours more into your glass. He turns to Yeosang. “And you?”

Yeosang shakes his head. “I think I’ll stop for now.” You take a small sip at first, then take deep gulps, the bitter taste burning your throat.

“Guys, just imagine this, but even better during my birthday party!” San says happily, then scurries off to the karaoke stage where your other coworkers have gathered and started singing. The music rings loudly in your ears.

Yeosang waves him off. “He keeps bringing that up. At this point I’m not gonna show up.”

You laugh in response. “He really is the life of the party.”

“And what about you?” Yeosang raises an eyebrow at you and glances at the already half drunken glass of beer. “You usually don’t drink this much at the company dinners.”

“Oh you know,” You chuckle sheepishly, slightly embarrassed at Yeosang’s observations. If there was someone that had the potential to become a detective, you’d swear it’d be him. “Just-” ”Let me guess,” He interjects. “Work. Life. Your roommate. Hectic isn’t it?” Bingo.

“You’re right,” You nod and finish the rest of your drink. “Just for tonight.”

“It’s okay, I’m not judging. Just worried, you know?” He says. You smile at his thoughtfulness and concern.

“Yeah,” You say, starting to feel a little buzzed. “I’m sorry I keep bringing him up. I… I feel like it’s all I talk about these days.. I swear I’m still interesting!” He laughs. “Don’t be sorry. I know roommates can be complicated. And maybe…he’s actually good guy or something.” Yeosang shrugs then takes a bite of some meat and rice.

“Maybe,” You say to yourself before you follow suit and take a bite of your food. Yeosang reaches for an unopened soju bottle sitting across from you, opens it, and proceeds to pour some into two shot glasses. “Really?”

Yeosang smiles and nods. You both raise your glasses. “Yup. To good guys! Cheers!”

You and Yeosang carry on your conversation amidst the loud conversation and music playing the background. You also chatted with some of your other coworkers who also joined in on your side of the table. This is kind of fun, actually. You decided you didn’t need to overthink anything in this moment.

After lots more rounds of meat and rice, alongside more beer and soju, you were stuffed. And you were definitely feeling the full effects of the alcohol. You did it. You reached your goal. As the night progressed, more people gave toasts and slurred speeches, and then it was finally time to go home.

It was nearly one in the morning, but the flashing lights on the street indicated that people were still out and about. The places closed late here, you noticed. San was completely wasted—slumped over Yeosang’s shoulders, trying his best to prop him up with his much smaller frame. The smaller one carrying the bigger one—it was a sight that made you giggle. After loudly expressing each other’s concern, Yeosang assured you they were going to be fine going home and that he’s done this a bunch of times. You also assured him that you’d be able to get home after his offer of sharing a cab. This part of the city was generally safe. And you, too, have done this before.

“Are you sure y/n?” Yeosang pressed. “It’s getting late.”

“It’s okay!” You urged. “It’s totally okay, I’m closer than you guys. He needs to get home asap.” You poked San’s shoulder, and Yeosang chuckled.

“Okay fine, but let me know when you get home!” Yeosang is already dragging San into a cab they managed to hail.

“You too!” You called out happily.

But then again, it’s been a long time since you’ve felt like this.

Feeling drunk felt so freeing, vulnerable, and scary at the same time. Your head was pounding, and your eyes were desperate to close. You were tired, but still so full of energy. You were aware of everything still, just…lighter. And now you were standing out alone, drunk in the night’s cold. Of course, taxis were to come and go, so you just stood at the edge of the sidewalk waiting for one, with your arms wrapped around yourself. Everything felt so heavy, and you didn’t want to move. You swear you could feel your heart thumping violently against your chest. Where the hell are those taxis?

“y/n?” You hear a soft voice behind you. Your first instinct of fear runs through you and you turn around quickly. A couple of feet away, stands someone you swear you’ve met before.

Someone…

“y/n,” He breathes. “It is really you.”

You try your best to concentrate, but your drunken mind is betraying you. You want to go home suddenly.

“Hi…” You whisper out. It was him…

Choi Jongho.

Was it really?

Your old friend.

Is this a dream? What is he doing here? What’s happening? Am I this drunk? Is this really him? What’s he doing here?

Your head was spinning with all these questions, and it didn’t help that you were drunk. You didn’t know what to do—what to feel.

He approached you gingerly, and you unconsciously recoiled.

“I.. I..” I want to go home.

“Are you going home? Let’s get you a taxi.” Jongho says.

“What are you doing here?” You blurt out. You wanted to believe that this was just an illusion. How could he possibly be here right now? And to face you so upfront like this? After everything….

“It’s a long story,” He sighs locking eyes with you, and smiles weakly. “Are you okay?” His face turns into an expression of genuine concern.

You can feel them.

Tears.

They’re coming, and you feel that burning sensation building up in your throat whenever you start crying. But you suppress it and swallow hard.

You hear a few cars pass by, and you glance back to the street. Finally. You quickly gesture for it.

The taxi slowly approaches the edge of the sidewalk where you stand, and you mentally thank the driver for coming at such a perfect time. You wanted to go home. You needed to go home. Away from this.

“I have to go.” You whisper, unsure if he’d heard you or not. You swiftly step into the vehicle, give your address to the driver, and catch one last glance at Jongho’s concerned expression before driving away.

This isn’t real. He’s not actually here. I’m drunk.

I’m drunk.

The ride back home was quick, and you used your remaining energy to thank and pay the driver. Getting up into the elevator required some deep breaths, as you were getting dizzier and dizzier—and all the more nauseous. Great.

“Too…drunk…” You mumble to yourself as you stumble into your apartment. You instinctively drop your belongings onto the floor and quickly make your way to the bathroom. You felt horrible. Maybe this was why you haven’t drank in so long…

That nauseousness caught up to you once you finally reached it, where you crouched and hunched over the toilet bowl, letting it all out. I drank way too much.

Now sitting on the floor, you leaned back against the bathtub to catch your breath. In that brief moment of stillness, your mind tugged at you to move. You were suddenly hyper aware of your physicality and environment. You knew you had makeup to remove, teeth to brush, and pajamas to get into. You had to stand up and get into your bed. You needed to clean yourself up. And your brain managed to give you a lovely reminder that you didn’t live alone. Just the thought of Mingi seeing this entire mess made you fearful. But your body betrayed you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Your head was still pounding so you just shut your eyes and decided to give yourself a few moments. 5 minutes. In 5 minutes, I’ll get up.

The image of seeing Jongho tonight popped into your mind once more. His voice rang in your ears.

Y/n, it is really you.

It’s a long story. Are you okay?

He looked the same, but different. More mature. Stronger. Still just as handsome…

Was that actually real? Maybe. Probably. You didn’t know. And maybe you didn’t want to know.

Suddenly, he felt so far away again.

I’m drunk. I’m drunk. I’m drunk…

—

You gently blink your eyes open to the sunlight streaming in from the windows. Instinctively, you yawn as well. Oh god. For a moment, you simply lay there as you let your thoughts slowly come over you like a wave. What time was it?

Thank goodness you had the day off. Anyhow, you probably would’ve been extremely late. But you were also glad you got the chance to sleep in, as it was quite the night last night. You gingerly sit up on your bed, shedding off the warmth of your duvet.

You feel a slight headache rush to your head again. Maybe I’ll take it easy next time, you think to yourself. It had been awhile since you drank that much after all. You then briefly ponder how San even does it, and wonder how he handles his hangovers. Your thoughts are interrupted by your grumbling stomach.

You notice your phone at the edge of your bed and grab it.

12:08pm **

You ignore all the text notifications from San and Yeosang for now, and decided to order takeout. You were too lazy to make anything in the state you were in—plus fried chicken sounded perfect right now. After putting in your order, you notice that you’re still in your clothes from last night.

Huh.

You could’ve sworn you’d changed and gotten into bed fine, but you could hardly remember. You did remember throwing up like crazy, however. You jumped out of bed and took a look in the mirror—your makeup was still on and your hair looked dangerously disheveled. This calls for a long shower.

After gathering your things and a fresh pair of pajamas, you crack open your bedroom door and peek outside around the apartment. Mingi cannot see me like this, was the first thought you had. The thought of him seeing you like a mess after ordering him around about being clean felt contradictory somehow. But more importantly, you were embarrassed. It’s not like he’d care, probably… But…Where was he anyway? Was he out?

The silence surrounding the apartment told you that the coast was clear, so you quietly rushed into the bathroom and proceeded to take your hot, much-needed, shower.

When you were finally finished, you headed back to your room and freshened up your bedding. You felt so much better already. Five minutes pass when your phone dings, notifying that your order is officially delivered. Excited and absolutely starved, you head for the front door excitedly when you suddenly stop in your tracks to see Mingi in standing by the door. He was holding the door open and grabbing your takeout off the floor. Your stomach grumbled once again.

“That’s mine,” You say. He turns around in response, his face unamused. Guess he was home after all…

He’s wearing his usual loungewear, and his glasses are framed above his head, pushing his hair back.

“No, it’s mine,” Mingi replied bluntly. “You ordered fried chicken?”

“Yes!” You exclaim, approaching him. You attempt to examine the bag.

“Well my name’s on it,” He argues. Mingi tugs the receipt off the bag and holds it up to your face. “See?”

“But the app just told me it was just delivered right now,” You hold up your phone to his face for proof. “Maybe they put both of the orders in there? Can I see?” You lean in to look inside the bag, but Mingi moves the bag away from you. Your sudden closeness made you more aware of your height difference all of a sudden. You take a step back.

“What did you order?” He glances inside the bag, then back at you.

“A six piece, soy garlic. With a side of rice,” You sigh. “And you?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Same… except it was a ten piece for me.” Mingi looks into the bag again, then proceeds to walk towards the kitchen in silence, ignoring you.

“What?!” You follow him into the kitchen.

“Why do they do that?” Mingi takes out both orders from the bag and places them on the dining table. “Is it easier for them to put two orders in one bag even though they’re different?”

“I think it’s because we live in the same place, maybe they thought it was meant to be ordered together…” You respond, staring at the food on the table. “And our orders aren’t even that different.”

“Whatever,” Mingi takes a seat and starts eating. You awkwardly stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do. *Uh…*You guys don’t ever eat at the dining table together. Does he expect you to leave? You suppose you could. You could take your food into your room for privacy, but then again it would just make the room smell like fried chicken…

“Are you not going to eat?” He asks, interrupting your thoughts. Your eyes widen at his bluntness, and you take your seat across from him. You don’t argue since you really were starving.

“I will,” You say and proceed. It was delicious, greasy, and filling—the perfect hangover cure. You guys eat in silence for a while. Luckily, you both distracted yourselves with your phones, so there was no space for small talk, thankfully. You wouldn’t be able to stand it. And he didn’t seem to want to talk to you anyways. What is there to even say honestly, you thought. This is how it should be.

You were in the middle of responding to Yeosang’s texts when you hear him place his phone back on the table.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” He says.

You look up, slightly confused. For letting you sit with him at lunch? For giving you your food? “For what?”

The corners of his lips tug up slightly, but then his expression returns to its neutral, indifferent state. “I think I went up to use the bathroom around two in the morning. Nearly had a heart attack seeing you on the floor. I didn’t know you went all out when you drink..”

Your eyes widen. Oh no…

“Wait, you…” Your words falter as your brain finally connects the dots. It was no wonder you were still in your same clothes and makeup. You usually had the strength to complete those tasks no matter how drunk you were—but I guess you hadn’t been that drunk. The memories of last night seem to gather once more, and you feel your face heat up.

“Yes,” Mingi says after swallowing a mouthful. He scans your face, and his eyes show a slight hint of amusement. “You wouldn’t budge, no matter how long or hard I shook you. I had to flush that disgusting toilet bowl, and carried you to your room.”

“Oh god,” You throw your face in your hands. “Oh my god. That is so embarrassing-”

“It’s fine, I know it was a Friday night just-” Mingi glances back down to his food. “Don’t do that next time.”

“That won’t happen again. I can usually handle myself. I don’t know- I guess last night was too much, I was-” You scramble to find the words, but decided not to put forth any excuses. You sigh heavily. “Thanks..”

Mingi simply nods and finishes up his food. After checking his phone one more time, he stands up.

“Well, now I think you owe me y/n,” He says and slides over his dirty dishes to me. “My dishes, for the next two weeks?”

“Huh?!” You scoff with your mouth half full of chicken. What the hell? You decided to challenge him with his own words. “What happened to keeping to ourselves and doing our own chores?” You did NOT want to involve yourself with another roommate related fiasco, yet here you were. It was as if these conflicts were inevitable, and you two kept clashing at the most random of times.

“Oh I know, but you didn’t. Drunk on the bathroom floor definitely crossed that line,” Mingi says matter-of-factly. It was true. You shivered at the reminder that he carried you into your room. What did he even think of you? You immediately pushed that thought away. **“But anyway… as roommates. I helped you, and now you have to help me. Right?”

Roommates.

“Fine, is that how it’s going to work now?” You sigh in defeat. “Two weeks, and that’s it.”

“Deal.” Mingi smiles a little, then leaves the kitchen.

What just happened?

~

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tags: @hwaskookies @chicksmoothie

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 3

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1200

Masterlist

———————————————————————

15 days later, while I was driving, my phone rang.

"Hey beautiful, I just wanted to see how your day went? I had to stay out all day for the Guijarro site, sorry!"

“Don’t worry, Alexia, everything went fine. I’m just about to head to the worst part of my day: Cruella’s site visit, a.k.a. the Mayor.”

“Oh, stop! She can be really pleasant—well, at least with me! No jokes, alright? Remember, if she’s happy, it means more projects lined up!”

I shrugged, knowing she was right. I was in for an hour of pure joy!

I arrived at the site, in a neighborhood near the city center, bordered by a forest of oaks. The house was a large, single-story structure with massive windows in a very modern style. Since the interior didn’t suit Madam’s taste, she had decided to have everything redone—or rather, have us redo it all. We had redesigned the entire layout with her and selected decorative items, from furniture down to the smallest trinkets. More choices would be made over the coming weeks. She was very involved in this project. Many clients let us handle the bulk, just approving or glancing briefly at the project’s progress. Lucy Bronze was involved from start to finish.

It was 7 p.m., so I took a moment to chat with the guys on the site who had been working there for 15 days. I’d visited several times, but so far, it was mostly demolition work.

She arrived at 8 p.m., in a sharp gray suit and a white silk blouse. Very attractive, I thought immediately, which made up for her being half an hour late.  

She approached me, looking stern.

“Hello, it’s a mess here, isn’t it?”

This woman was unbelievable. She arrived half an hour late and had the nerve to make a remark as her greeting.  

I tried to keep my composure and replied with a small smile:

“Well, it’s a construction site; the guys are tearing down the walls you didn’t want, breaking up the tiles, removing the wallpaper… If you insist, I’ll roll out a red carpet next time!”

I wasn’t sure if she appreciated the humor, seeing how her lips tightened. I continued, giving her a brief update on the progress and the next steps. Then we reviewed various options for living room furniture, which we hadn’t finalized yet. She criticized my lack of selection for the furniture choices.

“Excuse me,” I replied, “you made this list with Alexia and approved it. I only added that piece there.”

“Yes, not the most tasteful addition!” she retorted with a mocking laugh.

My blood boiled. I simply couldn’t stand her. When I told my friends about our first encounter, they told me she was well-liked in town for her professionalism and empathy. Empathy? She must be a great actress or just have a real grudge against me. I couldn’t keep putting up with her sarcasm.

“Excuse me, do you have a problem with me? I mean, personally?”

“And why would I have a problem?” she replied, with a big, provocative smile.

That smile completely threw me off. I regained my composure.

“Maybe because I was on the opposition list a few years ago, in the municipal elections, for instance.”

“Hmmm, really? No memory of that!” she replied, that smile still glued to her face.

She exasperated me to no end. Of course, she knew who I was; I could feel it, especially since that first meeting when she threw that slogan at me. There was no way it was a coincidence.

“Oh, wait,” she continued, staring at me. “The little brunette in the back of the room, on the supporting list, that was you?”

The comment was meant to be dismissive.

“That’s a bit vague, but yes, it might have been me. And with the slogan as a goodbye, you knew who I was!”

“I had my suspicions, yes, some memory of a tense brunette. I see that hasn’t changed much.”

What a provocateur she was—I had to calm down and regain control of the situation. I continued.

“Alright, I just wanted to clarify: I wasn’t particularly against you, but I was supporting the opposing candidate, who’s a longtime friend…”

“I’ll stop you right there; I couldn’t care less. That you supported that incompetent man who spread countless lies about me is your problem. My finding myself here with you is another matter entirely; it’s nothing personal. I just want you to do your job, if that’s alright with you.”

I was fuming, unsure how to respond to that jab. I merely replied, “Of course.” But I was clearly on edge. And I couldn’t stand up to her the way I would with anyone else—she was a client, and a major one. Alexia was counting on me. But my impulsive nature was bound to get me in trouble if things continued like this. She was trying to provoke me, I could see that. She wasn’t like this with Alexia at all, so why? Election grudges? Or just a chronic incompatibility? In any case, I wasn’t going to let myself be walked over. I’d keep calm but wouldn’t hesitate to respond to provocations!

The end of our meeting turned out to be less tense; we joined the workers and all talked together. She immediately became more relaxed and warmer. I couldn’t believe it. She even treated us to some wine she’d brought from Portugal. The workers left, and as I helped her tidy up, my phone rang. It was a message from Alessia, my ex, asking what I was doing tonight. Friday night. Free as a bird, badly needing to unwind and end up in her arms. I smiled at the thought.

“Is that your personal life calling?” Lucy’s voice snapped me back to reality.

“In a way, yes,” I mumbled.

“Still with your friend, the surgeon?”

I was speechless. How did she know that? My stunned look amused her, and she continued:

“It was highlighted quite a bit, your sexual orientation, by your former candidate. He didn’t hesitate to mention having a lesbian on his team, who was dating a surgeon!”

“I… I never tried to flaunt that, though I certainly don’t hide it!”

“I never said you did, Ona.” It was the first time she’d used my first name. “I was talking about your candidate, and it’s irrelevant in the end, though I don’t find it to be an interesting electoral argument. I think it’s entirely natural to have both heterosexuals and homosexuals without it needing to be highlighted every time…”

“Well, it can still help break old political codes and encourage others to get involved!” I replied with a challenging look.

“That’s certainly up for debate!”

I had no desire to discuss this with her, at that moment, at this point in my day. I gathered my things and took my leave from Lucy, politely.  

The handshake was firm, and she said, “I hope I didn’t destabilize you too much; that wasn’t the intention. See you in 15 days, same time!”

Of course, that was the intention, Lucy—to provoke and destabilize me. But there was no way I’d let her get away with it.

[ahollowgrave]

-- mistletoe. pt iii. (feat. the incredibly dashing Fornax of @verysmallcyborg!]