#i’m just late to discovering gravity falls

[kindheart525]

I’d have three nickels etc etc

[goldfades]

first dates, proposals and injuries | DONCIC

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | a summary of their timeline!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | majority fluff! mentions of injuries, but nothing else:)

FIRST DATE ┈ AUGUST, 2019

The argument starts before you even sit down, before the waitress can take your drink order, before Luka can flash that signature, lopsided grin that’s already been getting under your skin in ways you are absolutely not ready to admit.

It starts because of course it does. Because you’re you, and he’s him, and whatever cosmic force put the two of you at the same restaurant table in late 2019 had to have known what it was doing.

“You’re insane if you think Jokic is better than LeBron,” you say, resting your forearms on the table as you glare at him across the candlelit setting. “Like, actually unhinged. Are we watching the same league?”

Luka scoffs, leaning back in his chair like he has all the time in the world to deal with your slander. He drags a hand down his face like you’re exhausting him, like he wasn’t the one who brought up basketball in the first place. “You’re just a LeBron fan because you grew up watching him dominate,” he says, shaking his head. “You don’t appreciate real basketball.”

You gasp, placing a dramatic hand over your chest. “Excuse me?”

Luka leans in, eyes alight with that sharp, competitive glint you’ve only ever seen when he’s talking about basketball. “And Jokic sees it five steps ahead. Maybe ten.” He shrugs, easy and infuriating. “Longevity, dominance, IQ. It’s not even close, pčelica.”

You jab a finger at his chest. “Not even close? Luka, Lebron is redefining the center position! You—”

“I what?” He smirks, tilting his head. “I actually play against both of them?”

Your jaw drops. He did not just pull that card.

Luka laughs at your expression, all warm and boyish, like he’s already celebrating the win. The sound would be cute if you weren’t two seconds from throwing your napkin at his head. “That’s wild,” you mutter. “You really just—”

“I really just,” he teases, mimicking your tone. Then, softer, “But I like this. I like you like this.”

The words settle between you like a shift in gravity. You pause, blinking at him, and suddenly it’s not about LeBron or Jokić anymore. It’s about the way he’s looking at you—like he’s discovered his new favorite thing in the world, and it’s you, sitting here, all fired up over basketball takes.

You narrow your eyes at him, but there’s no real malice there. You don’t know it yet—not in this moment, with your heart pounding and your competitive streak flaring up like a supernova—but this is the moment Luka Dončić falls for you. Hard. It’s not the way you clean up so well off the court, though he’s definitely been trying not to stare. It’s not even the way you tilt your head when you challenge him, eyes sharp, lips pursed, like you live for the fight.

No, it’s the way you don’t back down. It’s the way you push right back, toe-to-toe with him, chaos-to-chaos, meeting his fire with your own.

Luka exhales, running a hand down his face like he can’t believe it. Then he grins, slow and sure. “Yeah,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Your breath catches.

And just like that, the argument is forgotten.

--

The early days—before the flashing cameras, the headlines dissecting your every move, and the courtside dramatics that would come to define you two—were sweet. A kind of sweetness neither of you had expected, like finding extra syrup at the bottom of your plate when you thought the pancakes were already perfect.

It was late 2019, the golden stretch of your first season in New York, and Luka was deep into another MVP-caliber run in Dallas. But in between the road games and the time zones, you found each other in moments so soft they barely made a sound—late-night FaceTime calls where he’d prop his phone up while brushing his teeth, lazy Sunday mornings tangled in each other’s hoodies, the quiet thrill of knowing you had something before the world even knew to look.

And then there was Slovenia.

He took you home that first offseason, back to the red rooftops and winding streets of Ljubljana, where the pace of life slowed down and the world shrank to just you, him, and the people who made him who he was. You weren’t prepared for how much it would mean—not just to Luka, but to you.

His mother, Mirjam, was warm and whip-smart, teasing Luka in a way that made your heart squeeze. His grandmother fussed over you in rapid Slovenian, hands on your cheeks, nodding approvingly when Luka translated: She says you eat well, that’s good. You’ll need it to keep up with me.

(You had bumped him with your hip for that one, and his grandmother had cackled like she’d just won a bet.)

You met his childhood friends, walked the streets where he first dribbled a ball, saw the court where he learned to play. And one night, wrapped in a blanket on his childhood home’s balcony, you told him about your own messy road to the WNBA—about the nights you doubted yourself, the injuries, the sacrifices. Luka had listened, eyes steady on you like he was memorizing every word.

“You’re the best player I’ve ever known,” he’d said after a long pause, voice quiet but sure. “Don’t let anyone tell you different. Not coaches, not media. Not even me if I ever say something stupid.”

You’d laughed, then kissed him slow—because for all the trash talk, for all the arguments over LeBron and Jokić, Luka Dončić saw you. And maybe that was when you knew.

Maybe that was when you both did.

The injury came out of nowhere. One wrong step—just one—and your entire world shifted beneath you.

It happened during a game in early 2020, a regular-season matchup that should’ve been just that: regular. You’d driven hard to the basket, planted your foot, and felt something go horribly, sickeningly wrong. The pain was instant, a searing-hot bolt that shot up your leg and dropped you to the hardwood before you even realized what happened.

The arena noise blurred into a dull roar. Your ears were ringing, hands gripping at your knee as trainers rushed in. You swore you could hear your own heartbeat, frantic and uneven.

But the worst part? The moment they helped you up, and you knew.

You weren’t the type to cry. You’d played through sprains, bruises, busted lips—you prided yourself on being the one who never let the pain show. But as they helped you off the court, as you saw your teammates’ faces tight with concern, something inside you cracked.

And when the MRI confirmed what you feared—when the doctors started talking about “recovery timelines” and “patience” and “one step at a time”—you broke.

The moment Luka found out, he was on the next flight to New York. No hesitation, no I’ll see you soon. Just a single text before takeoff: I’m coming. Don’t argue.

You hadn’t planned on crying. You really hadn’t. But when Luka walked through your apartment door, still in the sweats he left Dallas in, eyes scanning you like he wasn’t sure if he should hold you or let you be—you lost it.

Tears welled up fast, thick and hot, and before you could fight them back, Luka was there. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you in like he could physically hold you together. You gripped his hoodie, buried your face into his chest, and sobbed.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you choked out. “Luka, I don’t know if I—”

“Yes, you can,” he murmured, voice firm, steady. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening. “You will. And I’ll be here the whole time.”

You wanted to believe him. But right then, all you could do was shake your head, because the fear was so much louder than his reassurance.

“This was supposed to be my year,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I worked so—” A sharp inhale. “I worked so fucking hard for this, Luka.”

“I know.” His hand found the back of your neck, grounding. “I know you did, pčelica.”

You hated this. Hated how weak you felt. Hated that he had to see you like this—messy and hurting, nothing like the fierce, unstoppable player he fell for.

But Luka didn’t flinch. He just held you tighter, letting you cry, letting you be this version of yourself without shame.

And later, when the tears finally slowed and your breathing evened out, he pulled back just enough to look at you.

“You’re not alone in this,” he said, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. “I need you to hear me. You are not alone.”

You searched his face, and for the first time since the injury, the panic in your chest loosened just a little.

Luka wasn’t going anywhere.

--

The world found out about you two before you were even ready to say it out loud yourselves.

At first, it was just whispers—background noise on social media, the occasional courtside shot of you at Mavericks games, still in your knee brace but animated as ever. Then came the clips. The way you’d leap up after a Luka step-back three, how you’d mouth off at opposing teams like you were the one running the offense, the sideline moments where Luka would glance over at you mid-game and smirk like he had a secret no one else knew.

And, of course, the video.

You hadn’t even realized you were being filmed that night. It was a tight game, a chippy one, and Luka was already one technical deep when he started laying into the refs. You, standing courtside, were simultaneously barking at a six-foot-four forward who’d said something slick—doesn’t even matter what. The footage was grainy, but the energy was unmistakable: two people, completely separate yet perfectly in sync, talking mad shit in stereo.

The caption read, simply: Soulmates. It went viral within hours.

That season, the one you spent on the sidelines in Dallas, was supposed to be the hardest of your career. And in a lot of ways, it was. You weren’t built to sit still. Watching your team fight without you, stuck in street clothes while your knee slowly, painfully healed, made your skin itch. But Luka never let you fall too deep into your own head.

He’d drag you to Mavs practices, challenging you to free-throw contests on one leg (you still won most of them). He’d let you dissect film with him, lying on the couch with your knee propped up while you both debated pick-and-roll coverage. And on the bad days—the days where you felt like a ghost of the player you used to be—he didn’t try to fix it. He’d just pull you close, let you be angry, and remind you that you weren’t alone in this.

You were still you. And you weren’t going anywhere.

Neither was he.

--

Luka had known for a long time. Longer than he probably should have, if you asked anyone else.

Two months into dating—before the headlines, before the injury, before the world knew your name alongside his—he bought the ring.

It had been impulsive, maybe, but not reckless. Luka wasn’t a reckless person, not when it mattered. He just knew. Knew in the same way he knew when to release a step-back three, when to fire a no-look pass. It was instinct, muscle memory, like he’d been waiting for you his whole life without realizing it.

So, he bought the ring. Kept it tucked away, first in a drawer, then in a safe, then in his travel bag because he didn’t like the idea of being too far from it. He never rushed it. He just waited—waited for the right time, for the right moment.

And then, one night in late 2022, standing in the kitchen of your shared home after one of your WNBA games, he realized the moment was already here.

It wasn’t some grand, orchestrated thing. No cameras, no big speeches, no dramatic buildup. Just you, standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan while Luka leaned against the counter, rambling about the game.

“You should’ve seen the way they were doubling you,” he said, his accent thickening the more excited he got. “It was ridiculous. Like, bro, do you not know she wants you to do that? And that steal in the fourth—”

“Luka,” you interrupted, amused. “Are you gonna help, or just talk my ear off?”

He grinned, completely unfazed. “I am helping. I’m being moral support.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t really mind. You liked this—him, talking basketball while you cooked, the way he was just there in your space like he belonged.

And that’s when it hit him.

This was it.

This was everything.

His chest got tight, his hands a little clammy. He didn’t plan this. Didn’t have a speech prepared. But the ring was in the drawer down the hall, and he wasn’t waiting any longer.

The food was done, plated and set on the counter, when he stepped behind you and tapped your shoulder.

You turned, brows furrowed. “What?”

And then your breath caught.

Because Luka was on his knee, looking up at you with something raw and sure and devastatingly real in his expression.

He hadn’t rehearsed anything, so he did what he always did when he was nervous—he talked.

“I, uh—I bought this forever ago,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Like… way too early. Probably crazy early. But I knew. I knew when we spent that whole night arguing about LeBron and Jokić. I knew when my grandma said you eat well and that meant you’d keep up with me.” A breath, a small, breathless laugh. “I knew when you got hurt, and all I wanted to do was be where you were.”

Your hands flew to your mouth, eyes burning.

Luka swallowed hard, thumb fidgeting against the box. “I don’t need headlines, or cameras, or some big fancy thing. I just need you. That’s it. That’s all it’s ever been.”

The world knew everything about you two. But this? This moment?

This was just for you.

Luka took a steadying breath. “So, pčelica,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “Will you marry me?”

Your whole body locked up.

For once in your life, words failed you.

Your heart was pounding—actually pounding, like you’d just hit a game-winner at the buzzer. The kitchen, the food, the entire damn world faded, and all you could see was Luka, on one knee, looking at you like he had never been more sure of anything in his life.

You weren’t a crier. You never had been. But your throat was tight, and your eyes were stinging, and you knew—you knew—if you so much as blinked too hard, you’d lose it.

Luka was still talking, still rambling because he was nervous.

“I mean, obviously you don’t have to say yes right away,” he rushed out. “Like, I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I know it’s a big thing, a lifetime thing, and we can—”

“Luka.”

He stopped.

You dropped your hands from your mouth, inhaled deeply, and let yourself really see him.

His shoulders were tense, his free hand fidgeting against the ring box. He was always so damn confident—on the court, in life—but this? This was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.

You let out a shaky exhale, your lips curling into something between a smile and a disbelieving laugh. “You’re a dumbass.”

Luka blinked. “What?”

You grabbed his face.

Your hands framed his cheeks, fingers pressing into the stubble that had grown in after a few days without shaving. His skin was warm, a little flushed, his breath uneven under your touch. His lips parted slightly, his eyes wide, and then—then—you kissed him.

You kissed him hard, like he’d just won something, like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. And maybe, right then, he was.

Luka made a startled sound in the back of his throat before sinking into it, his hands gripping your waist like he needed to ground himself. You could feel his heart hammering against your chest, or maybe that was yours, or maybe it didn’t even matter because you were saying yes—yes—in every way except words.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, and you whispered, “You really thought I’d say no?”

Luka let out a shaky laugh. “I mean, I hoped you wouldn’t.”

“You knew I wouldn’t.”

His smile was soft, teasing, and so damn him. “Yeah. I did.”

You huffed, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. “Then put the damn ring on me already.”

Luka’s whole face lit up, the pure, boyish joy in his expression nearly knocking the breath out of you. He fumbled with the box, hands a little unsteady as he pulled out the ring—the one he’d carried around for years, waiting for this moment.

And when he slid it onto your finger—when it settled there, snug and perfect like it had always belonged—you felt it deep in your bones.

This was it.

This had always been it.

Luka surged up, wrapping his arms around you so tightly he lifted you off the floor. You let out a startled laugh, gripping onto him as he buried his face into your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“I love you,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “Like, so much.”

Your chest ached with it—with all of it.

“I love you too, Luka.” You carded your fingers through his hair, held him a little tighter. “Now put me down before you drop me and I end up in another knee brace.”

Luka snorted but obeyed, setting you back on your feet. You barely had time to steady yourself before he was kissing you again—softer this time, slower, like he wanted to make the moment last forever.

And maybe, in a way, it would.

The wedding planning process was pure organized chaos—which, honestly, was the only way it could’ve gone.

You got engaged in July, right in the middle of your WNBA season, and by the time the reality of it settled in, you and Luka had exactly two months before he had to report for training camp in October. There was no drawn-out, year-long engagement, no excessive deliberation over venues or flower arrangements.

You both looked at each other one night, sprawled out on the couch after a road trip, and Luka simply said, “Let’s do it before my season starts.”

And that was that.

There were no second thoughts, no overcomplications—just a joint agreement that you didn’t want to wait. You wanted to be married, simple as that.

The next few weeks were a blur.

Luka, in true Luka fashion, was entirely too chill about it all. “We just need a place, right?” he’d say while you were knee-deep in vendor emails, half-listening as he tossed a basketball up and down from the couch. “A place, some food, and someone to say the thing. Easy.”

You’d nearly thrown your laptop at him.

(But, to be fair, he did step up when it counted—securing a stunning venue with just a few calls, thanks to the fact that everyone in Dallas would do anything for Luka Dončić. Still, you made him suffer through at least one flower-sample meeting as payback.)

The guest list was intimate—family, close friends, teammates. No press, no media spectacle. Just the people who truly mattered.

The wedding date was locked in for late September, just weeks before Luka had to report for camp. It was fast, hectic, and the kind of timeline that would make any wedding planner cry, but it was yours.

And that was all that mattered.

For all the chaos leading up to it, the wedding itself was… perfect.

Not in a scripted, fairytale kind of way—no, there were little mishaps, tiny stumbles that made it yours. Luka nearly forgot his shoes at the hotel. Your niece spilled juice on her flower girl dress ten minutes before the ceremony. Someone (probably one of Luka’s teammates) started a drinking game at the reception that got way out of hand.

But none of that mattered.

What mattered was the way Luka looked at you when you walked down the aisle, like he was seeing you for the first time and falling in love all over again.

What mattered was the way his hands shook slightly when he held yours, how his thumb traced absent-minded circles into your skin because even under the brightest lights, you were the thing that kept him steady.

What mattered was the vows—spoken low, just for each other, though you were sure the raw emotion in Luka’s voice could be felt by everyone in the room.

What mattered was the I do, the way he kissed you like he was never letting go, the way your wedding bands felt right—like they’d belonged there all along.

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, music, and too many shots. Luka spun you around the dance floor, his grin wide and unfiltered as he pulled you close, his forehead pressed against yours.

“You’re stuck with me now,” he murmured against your lips, voice teasing but eyes so damn soft.

You smirked, looping your arms around his neck. “I’ve been stuck with you, Dončić.”

And really, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lilsmv1]

august - MV1 (2/?)

- willow [pt2]

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Juliette Durand

This is a story for the Max (and Taylor Swift) girlies. 

masterlist

Summary: They were doomed from the start. Two completely different worlds colliding, there was no way this could work. But what happens when they keep running into each other, as if gravity was pulling them together. 

Trope: slow-burn af

(*dialogues in italic are meant to be in French, I’m just too lazy)

Word count: 1,1k

A/N: Sorry I'm late, I had my finals ! Here's a fluffy chapter :)

As Juliette walked along the beach, her mind wandered back to the events of the day. She had spent the entire morning exploring the quaint streets of the coastal town, admiring its charming architecture and bustling marketplaces. But as the day wore on, she found herself seeking peace in the quiet beauty of the beach, longing for a moment of respite from the chaos of her thoughts.

For Juliette, this impromptu trip was more than just a chance to explore new surroundings; it was a much-needed escape from the weight of her responsibilities and the lingering worries that plagued her mind. With each step she took along the shoreline, she felt the tension slowly melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and tranquility.

In that moment, all that mattered was the gentle rhythm of the waves and the warmth of the setting sun. It was a brief reprieve from the demands of her daily life, a fleeting moment of freedom amidst the chaos. And as she walked, she allowed herself to simply be, savoring the simple joys of the present moment.

As she walked, lost in her thoughts, a voice called out to her from behind. "Well, well, if it isn't Juliette! Fancy running into you here."

Turning around, Juliette's eyes widened in surprise as she spotted Max approaching her with a playful grin on his face.

"Max!" Juliette exclaimed, a smile lighting up her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, just enjoying the beauty of the sunset," Max replied casually, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "But I can't help but wonder if you're following me, Juliette. We seem to keep bumping into each other."

Juliette chuckled, shaking her head. "I assure you, it's purely coincidental. I came to the beach to unwind after a busy day. And plus, it seems to me I was here before you, so I think you might be following me Max" she winked at him.

"Likely story," Max teased, falling into step beside her as they continued their stroll along the shore.

As Max and Juliette walked along the beach, the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a serene backdrop to their conversation.

"So, Juliette," Max began, a playful twinkle in his eyes, "tell me something interesting about yourself that I don't already know."

Juliette chuckled, casting a sideways glance at him. "Hmm, let me think." she paused "Well, I have a secret talent for baking the most delicious cinnamon rolls known to humankind."

Max raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Is that so? Well, consider me intrigued. I'll have to put in a request for a batch of those legendary rolls sometime."

"You got it," Juliette replied with a grin. "But fair warning, they tend to disappear pretty quickly, so you'll have to act fast."

As they continued to walk, their conversation flowed effortlessly from one topic to the next. They swapped stories of their travels, recounting memorable adventures and hidden gems they had discovered along the way. With each passing moment, Juliette found herself opening up to Max in a way she hadn't with anyone else, as if they had known each other for years instead of just a few days.

"So, what's next on your itinerary?" Max asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Juliette shrugged "I have to go back to France for a couple days to see my best friend, but who knows where I'll go next. I might just go with flow and prepare myself for some more adventures."

Max grinned, clearly intrigued by the idea. "I like the sound of that. Well, count me in for whatever adventure you have in mind."

Juliette smiled, feeling a warm sense of closeness blossoming between them. In that moment, as the sun dipped lower on the horizon and the sky turned a brilliant shade of pink, she knew that this chance encounter at the beach was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

Before they knew it, the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The beach was bathed in a soft twilight glow, casting long shadows across the sand.

"Hey, Juliette," he began gently, "can I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course" she replied with a warm smile.

"What's the real reason you're here? I mean, what are you running away from?"

Juliette paused, her steps faltering slightly as she considered his question. She took a deep breath, deciding to confide in him. "To be honest, Max, I feel lost. I just finished my studies, and I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Everything feels so uncertain, and I needed to get away, to escape from the pressure and expectations."

Max nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic. "I get it. Sometimes we all need a break from reality, a chance to clear our heads and figure things out. But you know it's okay to not have all the answers right now".

Juliette smiled gratefully, touched by his words of reassurance. "Thank you, Max. I needed to hear that."

As they walked on, a comfortable silence settled between them, each lost in their own thoughts. After a moment, Juliette turned to Max, curiosity glinting in her eyes. "And what about you, Max? What's your story?"

Max hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting out to the horizon. "Oh, you know," he replied casually, a hint of evasiveness in his tone, "just getting away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, seeking a bit of adventure."

Juliette sensed that there was more to his answer than he was letting on, but she didn't press the issue, especially when she knew what he wasn't telling her. She knew that there would come a time when she had to reveal that she recognised him, but she couldn't muster the courage to do it at that moment. Instead, she simply nodded, a silent understanding passing between them.

"I should probably head back," Juliette said reluctantly, glancing at her watch. "I have an early start tomorrow."

Max nodded understandingly, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Right, of course. But hey, why don't we meet up again tomorrow? There's so much more of this town to explore, and it's always more fun with company. At least with your company."

Juliette hesitated for a moment, torn between the comfort of routine and the allure of spontaneity. But then she found herself nodding, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'd like that, Max."

[cgogs]

Hiiii! Im binging Scream Eureka right now, and I am obsessed.

One of the first dynamics I found compelling when I entered the DSMP fandom was Sam and Dream. It’s fascinating to me: how Dream commissioned Sam to build the prison, how he trusted Sam to take care of him in the prison, how he relied on Sam for food, how Sam feared Dream but basically owned him. And with the Quackity torture that Sam willingly allowed? Chef’s kiss.

Sadly though, i couldn’t find anyone initially interested in the pairing, so I just went with other, more common dynamics (like c!drunz and c!dnf)

But as I was re-reading Oxeye Daisy again (I’m not sorry), i decided to check your backlog, only to discover you wrote a c!awesamdream fic.

I’m only on chapter three, but this has easily reached the same level of intensity of Oxeye Daisy, if not more. A story about a warden and a prisoner somehow falling in love, and it being somewhat heathy??? Not only to mention that they are married and expecting a kid??? Only you could manage to make such an insane plot turn into a beautiful story on forgiveness and moving on.

I already knew how well you wrote Dream from Oxeye Daisy, but it hit me all over again with this fic. The way you write his trauma always fascinated me: you somehow manage to capture the sheer horror and agony of the prison AND make it palpable for the audience to read. Often times I find gory scenes too surreal to capture the gravity of the situation, but reading the Quackity torture scenes chills me to my bones every single time.

Furthermore, the way you capture Dream’s paranoia and hysteria? Absolutely breathtaking. I know logically that Quackity isn’t there, that Dream isn’t wearing the jumpsuit, that Dream isn’t in that basement, but I still find myself doubting that because Dream is so sure of those hallucinations that I, the reader, almost believe it too. It’s just such damn impressive writing.

And Sam. God, Sam. It’s hard to write an abusers who’s changed. How do you justify the actions of the past? How do you make very good thing seem good when the shadows of the past still linger? It’s an extremely hard question to tackle, but you take that challenge with Sam in this fic. You show his hesitance toward the initial sexual arrangement. You show the love he has for Dream. You show how his duties as a Warden (keeping Dream alive) translate into his duty as his husband (keeping Dream happy). You don’t justify his actions, but you also don’t damn him for it. You humanize him. You make us want this relationship to work.

I still have many questions: is this the same universe as Oxeye Daisy, what was the turning point for Sam and Dream, how did they get to this town? But, I’ll guess I’ll just have to read.

Thank you, once again, for your words. I always treasure them.

Sincerely,

Reina

Long comments like this mwan everything to me where do i even begin

I know what you mesn when you talk about how their relationship makes uou feel because i felt much of the same. Wanting dream to be happy means kind of hoping for the best with the lot hes been given despite the horrific history. But theres always that looming realism that hes never really gonna get what he wants and what has has is, also, horrific. And then theres kind of rooting for sam whos changed but too little too late

Im glad that im.able to portray this through writing ive been nervous im not hitting the beats!

[callipraxia]

oh!!! this is a few hours later, but i also wanted to ask what the lost-but-recently-revived project actually is, because i've never thought to ask in an ask box until now. when my tablet is dead. eugh. it must've been mentioned before, but if you'd like to say more, i'd love to learn about it!!! i feel like i've been talking too much about my own things lately, and i wanna read about others', specifically yours >:] (i remember something about gideon and the axolotl, but that might have been a different project---regardless that sounds whimsy af) if you dont feel like it or anything, you can ignore this :^

The lost project actually hadn’t been discussed much, if at all; it’s a post-canon one-shot where Stan and Ford go back to Glass Shard Beach, reasoning that Stan probably needs to see the place again for the good of his memory and that Ford should probably pay some form of respects to their deceased parents. Stan has a video camera. He ends up documenting just how much everything has changed. He and Ford have Feelings about this, and then they run into someone unexpected. It’s...hardly high drama, so it probably doesn’t make sense that it’s taken this long to start rewriting it, but so it goes with my short pieces.

The Gideon thing is a spinoff/sequel to FWJB I’m considering – specifically, what happened to him after the final battle. It begins ten years later, with Gideon waking up to discover that someone appears to have recently jammed the majority of a tube of drugged lipstick down his throat. Since said lipstick would knock someone unconscious and induce mild amnesia in a much smaller quantity, it’s done a real job on him, which leaves him trying to figure out where he is, how long he’s been there, who drugged him, why that person drugged him, and, in fact, most of who he is – he knows his name is Gideon, he knows he should really not tell anyone that, and very little else. Not even why it’s so important to hide his identity.

Naturally, once he figures even a tiny bit of that information out, he promptly finds himself with even worse problems than he started with.

Other ideas...what the heck, I might as well talk about them a bit, not least to, er, document them in some fashion. Been thinking that writing them down might be a good idea anyway, so here we go:

1) You once suggested I kill Ford and make Stan have feelings about it. I’ve started that one, too; it’s the one I wrote down a lot of and then typed up and then lost...last week? Week before last? Week before last, I think. In this sad little universe, Ford manages to break his neck and die like six months after Weirdmageddon. Stan takes this poorly.

2) In other possible returns to old stomping grounds, I’m intrigued by the idea of going further into how Agent Trigger, of all people, somehow managed to slip under the radar, climb the ranks of the DFSI, and end up recruiting Dipper. Similarly, I’d like to do at least a short return to the IG Epilogue situation, if I can think of a good plot for it beyond Dipper’s initial reaction to “...did that guy really just take his face off like a pair off sunglasses and call me by name??” Plus, of course, if I’m ever in a fluff mood, I gotta write what happened when Soos made good on his promise to loan Ford the deeveedees.

3) Road trip time with Fiddleford and the Stan Twins! What could possibly go wrong?

4) So, Powers. Tell us more about how your agency spotted signals from Gravity Falls thirty years ago. What did you guys do then?

5) Writing more of McGucket’s memoirs, and/or the horror novel about the building of the Portal that I’ve had in mind, and/or a between-the-episodes incident where Fiddleford, struggling to remember who the Author was and why he’s so darn difficult to remember, convinces Tate to talk to him about the past, resulting in them going over a bunch of letters Emma-May had kept and Fiddleford struggling to figure out what was real vs what he was lying about, all while he and Tate are having feels (and sometimes explosive arguments) in the present.

6) Some college years stuff. I have vague ideas for something about the construction of the mind-control tie, and for something else about That One Time Fiddleford Convinced Ford To Come With Him To Tennessee Over The Holidays.

7) More angsty one-shots...stuff like Stan pretending to be Ford at Filbrick’s funeral, and the first day Ford went back to high school by himself, and some stuff with small Tate, and...you get the picture.

8) I will admit this only because of your current tagline – I, too, have entertained the idea that Stan has actually read Moby Dick. Specifically, that in his last months in school, he and Ford ended up in separate classes for part of the day because Ford was taking calculus or something, resulting in Stan having to take the standard-issue American Lit class by himself, and the teacher essentially annoying him into making a good-(ish; it is Stan we’re talking about) faith effort to do his book report properly...only for it to all end on the most depressing note possible, of course. I’ve told myself I cannot actually write this, but… *shrugs*

9) Early in his years in Gravity Falls, Stan visits the library. The librarian is someone he finds attractive. Somehow, one thing leads to another and he finds himself being strong-armed into helping with the town science fair, despite a) him not really being a scientist, only playing one in front of tourists and b) his very specific hatred of science fairs.

10) It is September. Everyone is going back to school. Wendy discovers that Tracey and Quattro exist. This is the one that had me complaining about how I missed the apocalypse not long ago – it’s harder to 99% ignore their infatuation with her in a lower-stakes scenario, and I have no idea how to handle that.

11) It is the academic year. Pacifica struggles to deal with her new social milieu.

12) Some other AU ideas...mostly “what if someone didn’t think of [clever thing] in time” disaster scenarios. There’s also the Better World AU, where...let’s just say it’s not a very nice place at all, at least for some people.

So, there you are! It’s...the majority of the ideas floating around my head at the moment. Some could merge together into one project. Some might not ever see the light of day. But I’ve got plenty of material to work with, just have to get my head back in order for writing, and I’m pleased to say that my head is getting closer to order by the day.

[nyxienightingale]

Wanting to post random stuff about my fandoms and OCs here made me realize just how out of touch and practice I am with doing both. And just how bad I am at discussing my OCs in particular

Like I’m so used to TikTok and being treated like scum if I so much as even mention specific things… *cough* Hazbin/Helluva/Murder Drones/TADC/ or even Villainous/Gravity Falls/Metal Family/The Owl House on occasion *cough* … that I don’t know what to say or do in regards to posting content about said fandoms in the slightest

Or even how to introduce my OCs. I just know how to push my OCs to the side in roleplays with other fans, which is something I’ve done for years since I first discovered the concept of RPs back in the late 2010’s. So that way those fans can feel the validation and love for their characters that I want both them and myself to feel. The chance to tell their characters’ stories without someone else’s character overshadowing it. I don’t know how to incorporate my OCs into the direct limelight and thus cannot make content centered around them. They have their stories, character development moments and even important roles in my mind, but I don’t know how to introduce those stories to others at all and feel silly any time I try

Which sucks because I really want to 🥲

[sebeth]

All-Star Squadron #10, 11, 12 (Revised 1/28/24)

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

All-Star Squadron #10 – 12 by Roy Thomas, Adrian Gonzales, and Jerry Ordway

“If An Eye Offend Thee!”

The issue opens in San Francisco. It is early January 1942 and Hawkman has snuck away from the military base for a late evening flight. Carter notes he feels guilty for taking a “joy ride” while regular citizens are bracing for gas rationing. I enjoy Roy’s additions of historic details of life in the United States during World War II.

Carter’s guilt can be assuaged as his wings don’t require gas.

The majority of the Justice Society retired their heroic identities to enlist in the various branches of the military.

Carter joined the Air Force and is set to make “pilot in record time” but “it’s liable to be months before I’ll see action in the army air force.”

Hakwman witnesses a fleet of B-17 Bombers arriving at the base from Randall Field, Texas.

Carter muses: “Those flyboys will do America a lot more good than one former playboy swooping around in a beaked masks and wings.”

“Speaking of former playboys, I just remembered Randall Field’s where Starman – Ted Knight – is based. I wonder if he might be – no, not likely. He couldn’t have his officer’s commission yet.”

Carter is wrong, as Ted is flying one of the planes. Ted’s co-pilot can’t get over how fast he made pilot status.

Ted suspects his co-pilot feels Ted’s money cut through the red tape but, in fact, as Starman, Ted has been “flying high for a year now.”

I’m not sure how flying under your own power allows easy mastery over flying a plane but I’ll go with it.

Starman admits missing using his gravity rod to fly under his own power. Ted is in one of the B-17 fleet bombers that Carter is flying next to.

A flying UFO appears out of nowhere, “glowing so blindly I can barely look at it.” The UFO attacks the planes.

A plane plummets to the ground. Hawman races after, knowing it’s futile, but hoping his Ninth Metal harness can stop the impending crash.

Fortunately for Carter, Ted makes excuses to head to the back of his plane. He promptly changes into his Starman costume, grabs his gravity rod, and exits the plane.

A relieved Hawkman has Ted save the plane while he prevents the UFO from attacking more planes.

An unconscious man falls out of the UFO. The UFO flies away to parts unknown.

Starman has to get back aboard the plane but Carter wants to know how Ted made pilot so fast.

Ted: “I got the President himself to fix it up for me.”

Ted admits he hates “using our ‘in’ with F.D.R.” but “winning this lousy war that’s important” and he would “mangle every rule in the book” if he had to.

Carter realizes he needs to return to base before he’s reported A.W.O.L. but first he needs to find help for the unconscious man. Unfortunately, the man dies in his arms before Carter can reach the ground.

Carter believes he knows the dead man and if it’s who he thinks it is “the secret behind that ‘Flying Eye’ may be even more sinister than I’d imagined.”

A caption box informs us we’ll have to wait an issue or two before discovering the full meaning of Carter’s words.

I enjoyed the quick check-in with Hawkman and Starman. The military enlistment was used throughout the All-Star Squadron run to explain why the members of the Justice Society weren’t featured heavily in the series.  It’s still nice to have the occasional appearance from a Society member.

We switch to Washington DC.

The Shining Knight, Hawkgirl, and Johnny Quick are careening past the Washington Monument.

I still don’t understand how Shiera hasn’t died of hypothermia while fighting crime in a bikini top during an East Coast winter.

I don’t have a problem with certain female super-heroes fighting crime in swimsuits, hot pants, or skirts. For example: She-Hulk, Supergirl, Power Girl, or Mary Marvel. All four women are mostly invulnerable and largely immune to temperature extremes. If it’s true to their personality, those women can wear what they want – they don’t have practical concerns to worry over.

However, women like Black Canary, Huntress, and Hawkgirl are neither invulnerable or immune to temperature extremes. Their costumes should reflect their need to protect their body from physical harm.

Side-note: Huntress’s abdomen-baring, hot-pants costume was one of the most idiotic outfits of all time. Both for the reasons listed above and because shorty before its debut, Helena was shot multiple times in the abdomen by the Joker. And the life-saving surgery was performed in Gotham during No Man’s Land. There was no plastic surgeon nearby to minimalize the scars. Yet no artist ever drew Helena with a scarred abdomen. Stupid!

Johnny compliments Shiera on the design of her new mask.  Shiera took the time to modify her mask but not to add sleeves to her top? Okay.

Johnny mentions he’d “better get some newsreel footage of all this, or Johnny Chambers is gonna be looking for a new job.”

Johnny is a cameraman for See’s All/Tells All News.

Sir Justin tethers Winged Victory and notices an unconscious man: “Here lies a man unconscious and he wears the regalia of an American soldier.”

Johhny has entered the Washington Monument in time to stop a sabotage attempt.

Johnny stops the actual explosion while Shiera and Justin deal with the saboteurs.

Sir Justin: “We thank you for letting us deal with these Nazis, Johnny Quick, for, in sooth, ‘twould be most unseemly to have let you fight the good fight unattended.”

Johnny: “Knight, you sure do talk pretty sometimes.”

The trio take the unconscious man (wounded guard) to the hospital.

Johnny mentions this is the second national monument he’s saved in a month and “I wonder how things are going out at Mount Rushmore?”

Hey, every hero needs a specialty. Superman fights alien invasions, Batman solves crimes, and Johnny Quick protects national monuments.

We switch locations to “one of the few American outposts in the distant Pacific Ocean which has not yet fallen to the Japanese juggernaut” where a “total blackout has been rigidly enforced for the past month.”

We have another check-in with a JSA member.

Dr. Charles McNider is on the island researching tropical fever. And he’s brought Hooty!

Charles serving in a research role for the military is a perfect fit. Charles wouldn’t be able to actively enlist in the military as he is blind.

Enemy planes and the “Flying Eye” attack the island. Charles changes into his “Dr. Mid-Nite” uniform to help the soldiers on the ground.

A solider is very confused: “Dr. Mid-Nite?! How the heck did you get over here?”

I understand Charles’ natural impulse is to change into costume at the first sign of danger but making an appearance on an isolated island is not a good way to maintain a secret identity.

The Flying Eye causes multiple plane engines to stall and crash. Fortunately, the pilots bail out.

The Flying Eye retreats and Charles heads back to his lab: “Better get back before my assistant Myra Mason notices Dr. McNider’s missing.”

Charles, trust me, Myra knows you run around as Dr. Mid-Nite. She may not say anything but she knows.

Did Charles use the “FDR card” in order to have Hooty and Myra accompany him? Myra is a nurse and Charle’s long-time assistant, used to working with the blind Charles, so she’s a logical choice to accompany him but Hooty?

I mean, I love Hooty, I’m just now sure how Charles convinced the military brass to allow his owl on the island.

We switch to the Russia’s Crimean Peninsula where the Flying Eye attacks both the Russian and the German forces and flies away.

Back to Washington. Robotman examines Steel. Robotman declares Steel free of any influence from Baron Blitzkrieg.

Firebrand accompanies the duo outside in time to witness the arrival of the Flying Eye.

The Flying Eye causes the hospital generatiors, along with Steel and Robotman, to shut down.

The Flying Eye heads to the White House. Firebrand along with a recovered Robotman and Steel race to the White House.

The trio arrive at the White House and meet up with Liberty Belle, Hawkgirl, the Shining Knight, Johnny Quick, and the Atom.

A shadowy, seven-foot man emerges from the Eye and battles the All-Star Squadron.

The man removes his helmet and proclaims: “I am Akhet, and I have come from the second planet of the star you call Proxima Centauri to annex this world, and all upon it, in the name and by the power of the Binary Brotherhood!”

The Fact Files at the end of the issue feature Starman, Liberty Belle, and the Atom. The only new information is Starman has never received an origin from his debut in the Golden Age until now but will receive one in an upcoming issue of All-Star Squadron. We’re told we will receive more information on Liberty Belle’s adrenal powers in a future issue. The fact file notes the Atom appeared in more Justice Society stories than any hero except Hawkman.

Up Next: “The Spaceman’s Sinister Secret!”

Akhet issues an ultimatum: “All of Earth’s nations must surrender that a united planet may be ruled by myself, as emissary of the Brotherhood. Any nations which resist – be it one or all – will be obliterated by such power as my starcraft has already demonstrated. You have one earth-day to choose between abject surrender and total annihilation!”

The All-Stars want to attack but Liberty Belle correctly states that they should wait for the President’s signal.

Half the Squad attacks anyway, and when it goes badly, the rest rush in to help.

Sir Justin, as always, has the best battle cry: “Nor shall any man or maid set a foot further than does the Shining Knight! Forward to the fray, Winged Victory!”

The fight doesn’t go well and Ahket, also known as the Star-Smasher, absconds with Steel, Hawkgirl, Atom, and Robotman.

Johnny laments: “What a time for the big guns in the Justice Society to have decided to enlist in the Army as privates!”

The Flying Eye attacks random locations across the globe.

The remaining All-Stars meet with the President, Prime Minister Churchill, and a military general.

Liberty Belle is suspicious of Akhet’s claims: “I’m convinced there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

Hawkman arrives at the White House. He informs the others of his and Starman’s encounter with the Flying Eye.

Carter tells the group the identity of the man who fell out of the ship: “Garret Owens, a pioneering bio-chemist. He’d gone out for a stroll near his Illinois home in 1933 – and hadn’t been seen since!”

Carter notes the emblem on Owens’ uniform is an old alchemist’s symbol for the Middle Ages, it is the sign for “the spirit of the world”.

Hawkgirl and Atom awaken in the Eye. Shiera’s a bit over-whelmed as she’s not a “full-time masked hero type. I’ve just put on this outfit to help the Hawk a time or two – and now this happens!”

Atom informs her “It’s a little late to fall back on your amateur standing.”

Atom and Hawkgirl explore the Eye.

Hawkman and the non-captured All-Stars race to the estate of Elwood P. Napier, a physio-mathematician.

Elwood is another scientist who has gone missing in the last decade.

Johnny Quick has discovered the missing scientists were part of a government brain trust that ran out of funds in 1930.

Elwood was the last of the scientists to go missing. Before that one of the scientists went missing every six months.

Firebrand uses her powers to light up the interior of the house.

Sir Justin: “Odd’s blood, lass, but in my long-ago day, they’d have burned ye for a witch.”

Good thing Firebrand’s a modern woman. Also, good luck with the burning thing considering the nature of her powers.

Hawkgirl and Atom encounter Akhet and easily knock him out. The duo discover Akhet is a robot.

The duo discovers the rest of the captured All-Stars along with the missing scientists.  All individuals are placed in clear tubes.

Hawkgirl and Atom discover the true mastermind behind the plan: Dr. Hastor, Hawkman’s arch-enemy.

“Doomsday Begins At Dawn!”

Hawkman and his fellow All-Star leave Elwood’s estate.

Carter recognized Hastor in the photos found at the estate, “a man I saw die more than two years ago”.

Carter recaps his origin and debut as Hawkman. This is familiar ground for DC fans but I’ll offer a quick summary: Ancient Egypt – Carter/Prince Khufu and Shiera – murdered by Hath-Set, a priest of Anubis, all three re-incarnate to their present day lives.

Carter battles Dr. Anton Hastor in his first adventure. Hastor presumed dead after his fight with Carter.

Carter informs his fellow All-Stars that there is no alien invasion – only Hastor’s machinations.

Hastor explains to Shiera his plans and how he became involved with the missing scientists.

Hastor took control of the group of scientists and the Flying Eye, starting the events of the last few issues.

The All-Stars reach the Flying Eye via a hot-air balloon! No engine to knock out in the balloon.

Carter, Shiera, and Hastor battle by using their past lives’ astral forms.

The Hawks win, the Flying Eye is deactivated, and Hastor falls into a comatose state.

I love the All-Star Squadron but this is a pretty “meh” arc. Too many twists needlessly over-complicated – and stretched out - the plot. The highlights were the recap of Hawkman’s origin and some character development for Hawkgirl. She has been mostly wallpaper during the series but we got to see her fear over her inexperience compared to the heroes and her determination to be an asset and not a “debutante” hero.

[ladyartemesia]

Since I'm in love with your writings and your taste in reading too. I know that your favorite is Brother's best friend or Best friend's brother, I would like for you to recommend me some of them please ❤️❤️🙏

꧁Brother’s Best Friend꧂

Clandestine by @junghelioseok is fantastic. Jeon Jungkook is the best friend of the reader’s slightly younger brother. He’s sexy and charismatic and DEFINITELY knows what he wants. The growth of his (clandestine) connection with the reader is utterly delicious. This one made me laugh and swoon.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx is basically legendary in my book. The lady in this story is not only Hoseok’s best friend’s sister—she is also his BOSS’s sister and by boss I mean mafia. This is the first installment in Ana’s amazing Rap Line Mafia Universe and it delivers on every level. Hoseok is tasked with protecting the boss’s sister after she is being threatened by sinister forces unknown and sparks fly.

Plums and Melons by @winetae is THAT FIC. The fic I just daydream about sometimes. It’s a fic about two people caught hard in eachother’s gravity. It’s so sexy and cerebral and the main characters are so hot. Jimin is just a guy trying to live his life, but whatever is brewing between him and his best friend’s sister is driving him insane. He wants to be a good guy, but she just isn’t playing fair.

Are You Sure? by @cutechim is such a swoon-worthy and touching piece of wonderful. I tell you I was MOVED. This is beautiful and emotional and EXTREMELY satisfying. Taehyung’s best friend has a sister who he has always secretly adored. When she comes to him and asks for some intimate experience, he isn’t strong enough to say no—not when she’s everything he ever wanted.

Drivers License and Detour by @gyukult is sweet and tender and just a fantastic coming of age story. The reader has been in love with her brother’s best friend, Park Jimin, for almost all of her youth... but what is going on in his head?It’s a tender story that really warms the heart. AND I am happy there is more coming. I would read about these two all day. She published the second part and oh my gosh it’s so incredibly perfect I could scream. This was just such a beautiful journey every step of the way.

Milestone by @1kook is probably one of the first brother’s best friend BTS fics I read and it is amazing. I adore it so much. Because Jungkook is your brother’s best friend he is there for every milestone in your life. But you’ve both grown up now and neither of you are kids anymore. It’s hot. Like really hot. Dialogue and set up are so sharp and fast paced I really loved every second.

Young God by @njssi is scorching hot smut with complicated feelings and warm revelations. You think it’s going somewhere and then it goes somewhere else and honestly it is so awesome the whole time. Jungkook was always your brother’s sweet little friend, but he’s returned determined to show you that he is all grown up.

Tease by @caiuscassiuss floored me. I loved it so much! I spent the whole story just squealing happily about everything. This story has it all. It’s scorching hot. It’s enemies-to-lovers. It’s Taehyung. Jungkook’s sister and Kim Taehyung do not get along AT all—so she decides to bring him to his knees by making him desperate for her. It’s a wild and completely awesome ride.

Wasabi by @ironicarmy is a classic. Hobi is a bad boy that Namjoon vehemently refuses to let near his precious baby sister. But love is too strong a force and soon Hobi and the clever object of his desire decide that some things are worth fighting for. It’s a really sweet story of facing challenges and relying on the people you love. Warm and fuzzy feelings abound, but it’s also super hot.

Forbidden by @btssmutgalore is a masterwork blueprint for this trope. Hobi is a carefree player who falls brutally for Taehyung’s sister. They two of them eventually give in to a VERY steamy series of secret encounters and feelings get very involved. This is hot, suspenseful, and emotionally satisfying. Excellent characterizations as well.

Prohibido by @personasintro is an office AU with a twist. Namjoon is not only her brother’s best friend, he is also her boss and the two of them have incredible chemistry. Watching them pretend that they’re not insanely attracted to each other is so endearing and hot. Reader is convinced her feelings are one-sided. It’s lovely and fun. Definitely a slow burn, but worth it.

Strawberry Kisses by @kimnjss is a fic that I devoured in one sitting and then re-read again immediately. Jeon Jungkook is a player who matches with a girl on a dating app and has no idea she is the sister of his revered mentor and close friend, Min Yoongi. I laughed. I cried. I GASPED OUT LOUD a bunch. It was a whole thing. This is a hybrid social media/written AU and it’s pretty much perfect.

Tempestuous by @ppersonna is so special to me because it was written at the very beginning of my friendship with Lindy. She was looking for requests and I was quick to request my favorite trope. Lindy is bae now and this fic she wrote is marvelous. You are forced to spend the weekend in the same house with your sexy arch-rival Taehyung who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend. Naturally snarky hotness ensues.

Off Limits @floralseokjin is basically a famous entry when it comes to this trope. It’s a Jin fic and Miss Jordan writes EXQUISITE Jin characterizations. There is a hint of mistaken (or unknown) identity in this one which makes it even more fun. Sparks fly between you and a devilishly charming Kim Seokjin at a party. You don’t find out until later who he really is—and why he’s off limits.

And finally I’ll recommend my own Brother’s Best Friend fic All I Want for Christmas is You featuring a charming Taehyung who falls for Jimin’s sister. Jimin basically blackmails his best friend into escorting his sister to several holiday galas. Tae and Jimin’s sister have never gotten along, but they soon discover (through multiple pranks and mishaps) that love (and desire) are out of their control.

Not Your Fairytale by @yeojaa is incredibly sweet and tender. Erin really does emotion so well and her Yoongi characterization is honestly so nuanced and brilliant. This story is about a girl who had her heart broken and instead of canceling the cake tasting she scheduled with her philandering ex-fiancé, she wrangles the tsundere best friend of her brother to pretend to be him.

Brother’s Best Friend by @bts-hyperfixation is a short and sweet moment between two people who have been fighting their attraction for each other. It is so hot and delicious I tell you. You’re in trouble and the person you call is probably the person you shouldn’t—but you aren’t the only one willing to take a risk tonight.

Off Limits by @kaddiiction will break your heart and put it back together again. This one was recommended to me by a reader and I cannot thank them enough. It is fantastic. Jimin is a player but he crosses the line when he begins a liaison with his best friend’s sister. Still there is far more to this situation—and Jimin—than meets the eye.

꧁Best Friend’s Brother꧂

Orectic by @gimmesumsuga is one of my favorite fics of all time. It is a hybrid fic where the reader is a cat hybrid and Hoseok is the brother of her best friend who comes to stay with her while her bestie is away... It is so tender yet SO HOT. I’m telling you I cannot even keep count of how many times I have read it.

Theophany by @ilikemesometaetaes was a JOURNEY. It made me so emotional. Like the story centers around art a lot, but let me tell you, this fic IS art. Jimin is just the man of my whole dreams in this piece as the brother of a former best friend with an irresistible allure. It is a coming of age story with the most beautiful twist. AND THE LOVE SCENE—oh my gosh I screamed it was so good. This story is just so so good.

Run by @neonlights92 is Jungkook’s story in the mafia universe I am COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH. You don’t have to read the whole series to understand it (BUT YOU SHOULD). This is best friend’s brother meets arranged marriage and honestly it’s fantastic. Jungkook doesn’t do love and affection and being forced into an arranged marriage with his sister’s friend who has always had a crush on him is just a blow to his freedom... or is she? GAH! This story—like all the stories in this universe—is superb.

The Magic to Happiness by @readyplayerhobi is a best friend’s brother meets teachers AU meets Hogwarts AU. Now... all of those are top tier tropes so finding them together is like winning the lottery. Hobi was once just a skinny kid who had obvious heart eyes for you (his sister’s best friend) but now he’s tall and confident and really attractive. The magic of this story is evident in every word of the sweet relationship that blooms between these two.

Problem with You by @monvante is so sweet and kind of hilarious. I giggled so much! Jungkook is your best friend’s brother and he is kind of too perfect and too handsome and he’s always around and you hate him and he hates you... Right? When you cross paths with the infuriating Jeon Jungkook at your best friend’s wedding, you discover that you may have been wrong about a great many things.

Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine by @ktheist is so so SO fabulous. I was obsessed with this (now complete) series from the very first installment. You and Tae are besties who have know each other since you were little kids, but lately Tae’s older brother Jin has been lookin mighty fine. Just how far can you push him till he breaks. And if he breaks.... what then?

This list is BY NO MEANS exhaustive. I just used it to compile some of my FAVORITES in this particular trope.

➪ IF YOU HAVE ANY OTHER BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND FICS I SHOULD CHECK OUT PLEASE COMMENT (seriously please I love this trope so much) AND I WILL ADD THEM TO THIS LIST.

➪ Newer Additions are in PINK!

➪ Newest Additions are in BLUE

[shima-draws]

THIS IS SEVERAL DAYS (WEEKS?) LATE BUT I LOVE YOU ALL thanks for enabling me

-The AU begins with a casual city patrol. Izuku, Todoroki, Uraraka and Ojiro are teamed up. Things are seemingly normal until they accidentally bump into Shigaraki and Kurogiri—a completely unplanned encounter. Despite Kurogiri’s warnings, Shigaraki charges into battle against the students. Kurogiri jumps in to back him up by using his warps

-There’s a close call where Izuku’s about to get the jump on Shiggy—but Kurogiri manages to open a warp right before Izuku can reach him. This is where things get...funky.

-Izuku activates One For All as he disappears into the warp. Kurogiri opens a gate somewhere nearby. Todoroki and the others wait for Izuku to reappear...but he doesn’t.

-Todoroki, Uraraka and Ojiro gang up on Kurogiri and demand their friend back. Kurogiri doesn’t know what to do, this has never happened before, and he doesn’t know how to bring Izuku back. Apparently his warp malfunctioned, and Izuku seemed to get lost between dimensions.

-Finally, several minutes later, Izuku reappears. In the ensuing chaos Kurogiri and Shigaraki make their escape. Izuku is weak and shaking from the distorted warp, so Todoroki calls Aizawa and takes him back to campus.

-Izuku explains that it felt like he was falling, and almost like his entire body was trying to rip itself apart molecule by molecule—but then he fell back into the warp and came out on the other side like he was supposed to. Recovery Girl checks on him and just says that he’s in shock, no other injuries besides that. Izuku tries telling her about the strange feeling of pain he had, but she just says it might be a side effect of Kurogiri’s quirk, and that it might be some sort of delayed reaction. Izuku accepts that and things go back to normal

Rest is under the cut because she is looooooong lmao

-Except they don’t. Izuku starts to have strange dreams about somebody calling out to him. They leave him feeling unsettled and shaky in the mornings, almost like how he felt right after the warp. The dreams don’t go away—they keep coming back almost every night, and while they seem to get clearer, he still can’t figure out what they mean.

-Things start to get worse when the dreams transition over into the waking world, and Izuku starts to see flashes of someone with white hair and sad eyes in the corners of his vision. He easily gets distracted during training, and can’t seem to shake the worried feeling he has about this being important. 

-It all comes to a head when Izuku suddenly finds himself in that weird place between dimensions during a training drill. He’s only there for a few seconds, but he’s finally able to catch a glimpse of what that world is like, because the last time he was there he was falling and spiraling and was too panicked to pay attention to his surroundings. After he snaps back to himself, he wonders if it was just in his head, but when it happens again and his friends have to shake him out of it, he realizes that his mind keeps transporting to that world...it seems like his place in reality is faltering.

-The “visions” slowly continue to get longer and longer each time, with Izuku slipping into that world more often. It’s getting harder to hide it from his classmates and teachers, and finally, there’s a time where it happens and Izuku is unresponsive for over 15 minutes. The person with the white hair keeps showing up, and Izuku is desperate to find out who they are

-During another training session, Izuku feels the lapse coming on, and decides to hide away for a bit to let it pass. Except this time he doesn’t just slip into the nether dimension with just his mind—this time his whole body transports there...and he finally figures out the truth.

-Izuku searches through the new world. Everything is distorted and gravity is all topsy turvy, and when he finally catches sight of the person reaching out to him in his dreams, he follows them. At long last he discovers just who has been communicating with him...and it’s himself!!

-The mystery ghost is finally revealed: an older Izuku, from another timeline. He explains to Izuku that the place they’re in now is a world between time and space that acts as a stabilizer and general overseer of other timelines and worlds. He refers to it as the Beyond, or by its more technical name, the nexus. Apparently the other Izuku has been here for a long time, keeping watch over all of his alternate selves and keeping the timelines in balance.

-Izuku questions just why he was brought there, and his alternate self tells him that when he activated One For All in Kurogiri’s warp, it ripped open a hole in space and he was able to make a connection to the Beyond, primarily because of his alternate self’s already existing presence there. That connection is unfortunately unstable so it kept pulling Izuku back in over time. The other Izuku has been trying to fix that connection but wasn’t able to do so without full contact, which is why he’d been reaching out to Izuku in his dreams.

-To make things easier, the other Izuku asks to be called Nexus. Izuku peppers him with questions, but Nexus is reluctant to answer. He decides to send Izuku back while he researches about his connection there to try and fix it—and then he makes Izuku swear that he won’t tell anybody about their interaction, mostly because outsiders shouldn’t be aware of the Beyond’s existence in the first place.

-Izuku arrives back in his world and realizes that several hours have passed since he vanished into the Beyond. His classmates and teachers swarm him when he returns, saying that they were about to send out pros to go find him. Toshinori questions Izuku about what’s been going on with him lately, but due to the promise he made Izuku can’t answer.

-As the days pass, Izuku continuously visits Nexus (mostly because he has no choice in the matter, being dragged there by the distortion lol) and tries to pry more answers out of him. Nexus is shockingly tight lipped and Izuku knows that something bad must have happened in his timeline for him to be here. Being older isn’t the only factor tying into Nexus’ general quiet demeanor and more serious attitude. Meanwhile, Toshinori and the Dekusquad are hurt by Izuku’s silence on what’s going on with him, and Izuku has an internal struggle over what matters more: the promise he made, or the trust of his friends and family. It’s a rough time.

-Izuku breaks down and Nexus realizes that maybe it’s time he starts being more forthcoming—he knows what the burden of secrets does to Izuku, being Izuku himself. Nexus finally reveals that his timeline had been completely wiped from existence centuries ago, due to an epic, climactic battle with AFO who was attempting to figure out how to access the Beyond and gain control over it in order to rule over all possible timelines. Apparently there was a backlash when AFO tried to access the Beyond and it caused the timeline to be erased. Izuku is absolutely horrified by the truth, realizing that billions of people existing in that timeline are just...gone now. Including everyone he loves. 

-Izuku asks if AFO is gone too. Nexus looks haunted by that, but says he’s sure that he’s gone for good...leaving himself as the only proof that his world even existed at all. After Izuku leaves, Nexus decides to do a bit of digging, just to make sure that the AFO from his world truly is dead. And what he finds is not comforting.

-Apparently, after the timeline had been wiped from existence, Nexus wasn’t the only one who was tossed out before it happened. He discovers that AFO is still around, and that he’s been skulking between timelines, gathering new quirks and more power. Terrified, Nexus summons Izuku and tells him of his findings, and says that if AFO were to come after him in the Beyond, or any of them from any timeline, there’s no way they would survive the battle.

-Izuku convinces Nexus to come to his timeline to explain everything, because clearly this is no longer a one man job and something Nexus can’t handle by himself. The issue with that is that the Beyond has a strict no interference policy, at least on the basis of entering the timelines and tampering with them, so Nexus has been stuck there for centuries because he’s literally not allowed to go timeline hopping lol

-However, since Izuku was able to make a connection there and can travel between the two worlds freely (for the most part…) he’s able to utilize that connection to allow Nexus to enter his dimension. Nexus sees the sky for the first time in hundreds of years and is shaken into complete silence.

-The rest of the Dekusquad happen to be there when Izuku arrives with his alternate self and immediately bombard him with questions, but Izuku tells them the first thing they need to do is go see All Might and the other teachers to explain what’s going on.

-Upon seeing All Might again for the first time in centuries, Nexus bursts into tears (and this is a MONUMENTAL moment because Izuku hasn’t seen him cry once since meeting him, even when he told him that everyone he loved no longer exists). There’s a lot of fluffy family bonding and it’s very soft. Toshi holds onto both his boys and cries and I’M EMO LISTEN

-Nexus prepares to tell all the staff what’s going on, but first he reveals to Izuku that he didn’t...exactly tell him everything about what happened to his timeline. A quirk user is brought in who can read memories and project them on a movie screen, and the teachers and Izuku watch in horrified silence as they experience the last night of terror and heartbreak Nexus went through before his timeline was erased forever.

-The memories play back. Izuku is awoken in the middle of the night to find that the entire city is burning. The screams and pleas for help echo all around, and he finds that he can’t get into contact with any of his friends. Racing outside, Izuku looks up to see AFO silhouetted against the red sky, floating among the ashes and smoke. As Izuku hurries to catch up to him, he witnesses the sheer horror of a mass body count and hundreds dead along the way, including lots of minor and pro heroes that he knows.

-Izuku finally reaches AFO and immediately leaps into the fight. He doesn’t stand a chance. AFO has gathered too many quirks, and explains his plan to escape this dimension and gain access to the Beyond in order to spread his control further. Izuku is joined by his friends, but does not get to enjoy their help for long, because each of them are struck down, one by one. Fueled by rage and grief, Izuku ramps up OFA all the way and completely lets loose, chipping away at AFO while he cries over the deaths of his friends. Yeah this is gruesome and dark as shit and I’m not sorry

-AFO is about to get one final attack in—but Bakugou arrives at the last second and takes the blow for him. Bakugou dies in Izuku’s arms and that’s the last straw—OFA goes out of control right as AFO is preparing to open a warp to the Beyond, and the power spark causes a backlash that distorts everything, making the world glitch out.

-When Izuku wakes up, he finds himself in the Beyond with the blood of his friends on his hands. Information starts flooding into his brain about the Beyond and all of the timelines it’s tied to, and Izuku realizes what has happened. His home is gone...his friends, his family, the entire world...all wiped from existence. Now he is the only one left, tasked with taking care of the Beyond and mourning his losses for the rest of eternity.

-Needless to say, everyone watching the memories play are extremely emotional, and Izuku (our Izuku) is overcome with so much grief for his alternate self that they end up in an embrace, sharing a feeling that only they know between each other.

-Nezu and the other teachers agree to help Nexus defeat AFO once and for all. Nexus tells them that bringing in Class 1-A would be smart as well, and that he won’t make the same mistake twice and let them die. They decide to battle it out in the Beyond, it being the safest place to go wild without any risk of casualties or property destruction. And so!! Izuku introduces Nexus to the rest of the class, they all take a trip to the Beyond together, and so begins their grand training arc.

-Nexus preps each member of Class 1-A individually and on teams. They take turns going up against him and all get their asses thoroughly handed to them :) Nexus is hella strong and has had centuries to practice. He teaches them how to use the terrain of the Beyond, how to deal with the gravity and use it to their advantage. He tells them how to look for AFO’s tells and quirks so they can deal with his multipurpose battle style. Overall it’s a very fun yet stressful time with lots of bonding, sleepovers in the Beyond, and everybody getting a huge ass crush on Nexus because 1. He pretty, 2. He stronk, 3. He’s literally an eldritch being at this point, and 4. It’s Izuku. How can they not.

-There’s a time where Nexus takes Izuku to a special corner of the Beyond, and Izuku sees it’s covered for miles and miles and miles with gravestones. Izuku realizes that Nexus had spent years crafting as many as he could for all of the people that were erased from his timeline, even those he didn’t know, and at this point he’s lost count with how many there are. There’s a separated section with all of his family members and friends, and each of the stones are carved with special memorials. The rest of the class shows up and gets to look at their own gravestones and it’s fucked up as shit!! It’s very emotional and then everybody smothers Nexus with hugs and hgnhhhgh 🥺

Obviously there’s a lot that happens after this and the whole battle and everything but like. I don’t have all that planned out yet. But this is the general idea for the most part!! I’ve had a lot of fun brainstorming for this AU, I would do anything for Nexus period, and I’m super excited to start making content for it >:D

THANK YOU FOR READING and thanks for letting me infodump oh my god this is so long

[brywrites]

Gifted

Spencer Reid x Reader. Summary: All his life Spencer Reid has been told he’s gifted. And all his life he’s wondered what the point was of those gifts that felt like curses. Until her.

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Though he holds so many memories in his mind, Spencer Reid isn’t quite sure who the first person to call him “gifted” was. It was probably his mother, he thinks. Certainly not his father, who thought he was strange. Perhaps a teacher, or maybe even his Aunt Ethel. All he’s certain of is that he’s lost track of the number of times people have praised the so-called gifts he possesses. His eidetic memory, his autodidactism, his absurdly high IQ. His mind, they say, is a gift. But it’s felt more like a curse for most of his life.

Those same things that helped him skip grades and earn the praise of adults brought him years of bullying taunts and miserable adolescent trauma. They isolated him from his peers. His companions were library books and stories and mathematic proofs – nothing with a beating heart. They plagued his nightmares, for his mother had been brilliant too and what had that done for her? And those gifts came with a tremendous burden of pressure, they demanded use in a powerful way. Reid was always terrified he’d fail to live up to that impossible potential, proving himself unworthy of such great and terrible gifts.

By the time he’s thirty-six, he wonders why he was ever given such gifts in the first place. Clearly he’s squandered them, spent them on chasing monsters he thought might be human. They turned out to be hydras – for each one they catch, two more take its place. He’s let his mind waste away on drugs, on grief. In shacks and in prison and in grudges he just can’t let go of. He’s saved lives, he knows, but his team do that same thing without the gifts he’s been cursed with. What’s the point of him? Of any of the talents or tricks he possesses?

And it’s that question on his mind as he walks into a Virginia library to interview a witness to the latest in a string of serial arsons. Her name tag says Y/N. She’s clearly nervous, a little shaken, but she manages a smile when a child runs up to interrupt and ask her how to find The Magic Tree House books. And when she turns back to look at Reid, that smile still lingers – her eyes so bright it catches him off guard. She takes him back to the area of the library that was burned to talk about the crime scene, and she off-handedly asks if he has a favorite.

And when he says, “Oh I could never choose just one favorite. I love books too much for that,” that smile returns, unexpectedly bright.

“A man after my own heart,” she says. “Tell me a few then.” 

So he rattles off a handful, hoping at least one of them will keep that light in her eyes. They do. “Bradbury is one of my favorites, too. I just love Dandelion Wine. Sorry, I probably should focus on the fire. I try to distract myself when I feel stressed, and well, remembering what happened that night doesn’t exactly help with my anxiety.”

“It’s okay,” he tells her. “I tend to ramble when I’m nervous. Or excited. Really, I think I just talk a lot.” Another smile, one that crinkles the corners of her eyes. Over the course of the investigation, the BAU has to ask her to come to the station twice. By chance, Reid finds himself interviewing her both times, and both times he finds himself rambling a little more than he means to – because he finds himself inexplicably a little nervous and a little excited in her presence. It’s that smile, the one that lingers long in his mind after she leaves each time.

There’s something about her, about the light she seems to carry, that draws him in. That compels him to say yes when he shows up at the library to inform her they’ve caught the unsub and she asks, “Could I buy you a cup of coffee to show my appreciation? If that’s not too much, of course.”

“I think that would be perfect,” he says. And as they sit at the café across the street with lattes in oversized mugs, he’s never been so grateful for his vast knowledge of literature. Each title is a start into a new conversation with her, and they swap stories about stories – the ones they have lived and the ones they have loved. When she disappointedly announces her break is over, she adds, “But maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“Yes,” he says. “Please.”

“How should I get in touch with you if you’re not showing up at the library to interrogate me, Dr. Reid?” she teases.

He hastily withdraws his cell phone from his pocket and offers it to her. She begins to type in her number. “You, um, you can call me Spencer,” he tells her.

She grins at him and something in his chest shifts at the sight. “I’ll definitely call you soon, Spencer.” He’s never liked the sound of his own name more. And he thanks that eidetic memory of his for allowing him to replay it again and again in his mind until he can see her next.

.

They get coffee again the first chance he gets. And then again. When she asks how he has time to read so much and he tells her about how his mind works – about his memory and speed-reading and quantified intelligence, all the things that have been called gifts – she thinks for a moment before saying, “That must be lonely.”

The relief he feels at her understanding is immense. “It is sometimes,” he admits. “But it’s felt less so lately.” They go to a park together. Then out to dinner. By the time he realizes he’s falling, he’s forgotten what it feels like to be on solid ground. Fortunately, he isn’t the only one at the mercy of gravity. She feels it too. And when she laughs at his joke as he walks her home from dinner, he just can’t help himself. He leans in and cups her cheek to pull her to him, pressing his lips to her still-smiling lips. The taste of wine still on her tongue. And though he doesn’t drink anymore, the sensation of her is enough to make him feel utterly intoxicated.

Slowly, his life fills up with her. His sabbatical arrives with the perfect timing to allow him evenings and weekends with her. He picks her up after work. She meets him for breakfast. He takes her to the planetarium. She falls asleep on his couch. He tells her it won’t always be this way and she assures him that’s okay. But it gives him the chance to build the foundation their relationship needs. It’s in that time that he begins to catalogue her smiles in his memory. The dazzling ones she sends his way when she spots him at a coffee shop. The soft, shaky ones she wears after a long kiss. The coy ones that twist the corner of her mouth when she’s teasing him. The nervous one that slowly grows when she meets his team for the first time – not as a witness, but as his girlfriend. A title she declares like a badge of honor. He holds each smile in his mind, picture perfect thanks to that eidetic memory. When a case has been particularly tough or he’s away for longer than he’d like, he flips through them in his mind, trying to remember the cause of each one, trying to hold on to that light until he can hold her in his arms again.

.

He surprises her with flowers on her birthday. “You remembered?” she gasps, her eyes wide. “And these – these are my favorite. How did you know?”

“I could never forget,” he laughs, but she stares down at the bouquet and clutches them to her chest.

“I don’t make a big deal about my birthday, so people don’t usually remember,” she says quietly. “And nobody’s ever gotten me flowers before. Thank you, Spencer.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

He grins from ear to ear. Forget the sound of his name, those three words are the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. “I love you, too.” It’s a first for both of them. And one week later comes another first – witnessing her panic attacks for the first time. She’s shaking too hard to tell him what she needs, so he tries to do what would help him. He sits down next to her on his living room rug and wraps her in his arms. He rests his head on her shoulder and murmurs the words to her favorite poem. She seems to breathe a little easier and so he recites another one she loves, and another until her breathing finally steadies and she unclenches her fists to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face in his sweater.

Suddenly it doesn’t feel like such a curse to remember everything he reads when it means he can give her the words she loves when she needs them most.

The first time they sleep together is only the second time he’s been intimate with someone and he feels more awkward than he wishes he was. But he commits himself to studying, to remembering what she likes and what she doesn’t, and the next time he proves to be the quickest of learners when he succeeds at making her come within a matter of minutes. He discovers a new smile of hers, one of dreamy bliss and kiss-swollen lips. He loves it. He loves her, adores every single part of her she’s shared with him and every piece yet to be found. And to his continued surprise and delight, she loves him just as much.

He tries every day to be worthy of that love. He makes time for her. He goes to meet her friends and he shakes their hands even though he hates touching people, even though she insists, “You don’t have to. They won’t mind.” He does it because she’s the only person in the world whose touch he actually craves.

When she swoons over a dress Penelope has shown her on Instagram, he makes a note of it. She’s utterly enamored by it by her smile falls upon checking the price tag. It’s far out of her budget. So the next week when he’s out on a case in Atlantic City, he swings by one of the few casinos that doesn’t have his picture framed on the wall of their security office. He wins more than the cost of the dress in an hour and leaves before anyone can get suspicious. The dress arrives at his apartment the same day he gets home, and he invites her over to surprise her with it. When she opens the box, her eyes go wide.

“Spencer, this is… this can’t be. It’s… do you know how expensive this is?” Y/N asks.

Bashfully, he replies, “Now might be a good time to mention I’m banned from casinos in almost every state for my card counting abilities.” It’s well worth the little effort he expended to see the way her face lights up at the sight of it. And though he’s never been a gambling man, when he sees her wearing it for the first time he considers trying his luck a little more often.

At times he worries he’s doing too much, but how could it ever be when the way she loves him has been so much more than enough? For the first time in his life, he feels like maybe he’s enough. When she says, “I love you,” he believes it. When she says, “I’ll be back,” he trusts her. He’s given another person more of his heart than he ever has before, and for once he’s not afraid of it breaking. She doesn’t mind the strange hours he works or heaviness he sometimes carries with him. When he wakes up from a nightmare, she holds him close and keeps him grounded. He sends postcards from each city he visits and she makes his favorite food when he comes home and home is suddenly a place they share. She moves into his apartment and it feels like it was never complete without her there.

.

Not long after, there is a case in Boston. Their terrifyingly intelligent unsub taunts Reid as he leaves the interrogation room. “Judge me all you want, Dr. Reid. But I’ve used my mind to change the world. You’ve done nothing with yours.” The words haunt him on the flight home. He sits on the back of the plane lost in thought. What has he done? Sure he’s saved lives, but could he have done more? Could someone else have used those gifts he’s been burdened with in a way that was better? Why does he have any of these talents? Why has he acquired any of these skills?

His phone chimes. A text from her. Brought home a new book from the library I think you’ll love! Can’t wait to see you, dearest. And it hits him.

It’s her. All along it’s been her.

The answer echoes in his head as he races home to her. Everything in his life has led him to her, has let him be the person she needs. He can memorize all her favorite songs and poems to recite for her when her anxiety gets the best of her. He can remember every date that matters to her and everything she adores. He can read her favorite books overnight to talk about them with her in the morning. He can profile from her body language and her microexpressions when she’s having a bad day and needs him to be there for her, even when she’s too afraid to ask for what she needs. When she asks absurd questions out of the blue, he can give her actual answers with the useless encyclopedia of knowledge he’s obtained over the years. When she needs a distraction his rambling finally proves useful. It’s all for her.

She’s the reason his mind doesn’t feel like a curse anymore. How could he ever think of it with disdain when it’s the reason he can picture every smile she’s ever let him see? When he can catalogue every wonderful word from her lips, every inch of her skin, every action that drives her wild.

Reid can’t seem to open the door to their apartment fast enough. When he finally steps inside, she’s sitting on the couch. She turns away from the book in her lap to smile at him. “Welcome back,” she says. Then, tilting her head, “Is everything okay?”

An unshakeable grin spreads across his face and he knows he must look like a madman right now as he crosses the living to sit beside her. “Everything’s perfect. I just… I had this epiphany. All the things I hate about myself, you love. And all the things I can do let me love you better. It just feels like everything – everything has led me to you. Even the bad things, I mean, being in prison forced me to take sabbaticals and if I hadn’t we wouldn’t have had that time together early on and maybe we wouldn’t have worked and I don’t believe in fate,” he says, taking a breath. “But I can’t help but feel like for the first time, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. With you. Like that’s where I was meant to be all along. And I… I just thought you should know.”

His long-winded rambling is rewarded with one of his favorite smiles from her – one that makes her eyes soft and puts sunsets to shame. The kind she wears when she is incandescently happy. Her fingers lace through his and they are a perfect fit in his big hands. “There is nowhere else I’d rather be,” she says, leaning in to kiss him.

All his life, Spencer Reid has been told he is gifted. But this time, he thinks it might actually be true. He holds the greatest gift the universe has ever granted him in his arms and knows that no part of him is a curse if he is loved by her.

[vulpixen]

Lulled to Sleep

A/N: Hey everyone! Here’s my late entry for @forduary Week One: Sleep. I’ve been busy and distracted throughout February so I may or may not finish the other weekly entries before the deadline. But anyhow, this takes place in the Lost and Gained AU where Ford is a parent and later grandparent. Hope you enjoy this ficlet! 

_________________________________________________________

“WAAAHHH!!!”

Ford jolted awake from his eyes growing heavy from drifting to sleep. 

Oh my. The boys need me. 

It was a dark, not so quiet night in Gravity Falls in June of 1976, little Tate and his newborn brother Shiloh were crying and needing attention within their shared nursery. Thankfully, Ford had been awake for some time in getting some writing done in his journal at his desk. He raised up from his seat and walked towards the nursery, and on the way, waved at a tired Fiddleford to let him know he had it covered and he could go back to bed. He wanted to make things easier on Fiddleford and Lucina both as he can run on little sleep.  

Ford opens the nursery door and sees little Tate holding onto the bars of his crib while standing and crying across from Shiloh who was also crying. Tate had six fingers on his left hand while Shiloh had six fingers on his right. Tate resembled much like his father Fiddleford, save for the brown hair, but it runs in his family as well as Ford’s. Meanwhile, Shiloh inherited Lucina’s black hair, darker skin tone and heterochromia eyes; Shiloh’s left eye was brown and his right eye blue. The room was spacious and colorful with painted depictions of the forest and animals and magical creatures. One day it was going to be both the boy’s room or until they choose to have their own rooms, respectively.

“It’s alright, boys, Dad is here.”

Ford scooped up Tate and Shiloh in his arms and checked if they needed to be fed, changed, etc before he got the boys to calm down. But they did when held in the arms of their father. He then takes a seat in the blue rocking chair in the room to rock the two boys to sleep after tending to their needs. He still finds himself amazed he’s doing something like this. Finding love. Including children in their active lives. And discovering new, wonderful and dangerous things in Gravity Falls; things he wants to share with his two boys when they’re old enough. And maybe they’ll share that love of adventure like he and Stan did long ago, before everything changed. 

Ford would sing the boys a song his mother sang to him and Stan when they were little. An old Jewish lullaby from what he remembers. He found it funny she taught him the song ‘just in case you wanted to sing it someday’ but he sees what she meant now. It made him feel closer to her somehow. Tate yawned and fell asleep and so did Shiloh in Ford’s arms. 

Ford would gently place the boys back in their respective cribs. 

“Goodnight, Tate. Goodnight, Shiloh.” Ford placed a gentle kiss upon their foreheads and faced the doorway where Lucina and Fiddleford had been watching him the whole time. He smiled at the two. “I thought you two were in bed.”

“We were waitin’ fer you. Couldn’t help but ta watch and listen; it's a very pretty song.”

“Thank you. It always helped me sleep when I was little. I’m actually sleepy from having sung it.”

Lucina and Fiddleford took Ford’s hand in each of theirs and led him to bed with them. 

“I thought it was lovely, too,” added Lucina. 

[thelastspeecher]

eeveelotions replied to your post: “anyways I’d absolutely love some asks about my...”

please write a whole summary I’m intrigued

here’s the basics of the set up.  I’ll end my summary with how much I’ve talked about her on tungle thus far, tho the AU does have some development past that.

during his Crime Career, Stan winds up doing some arson for a larger criminal organization where he’s just the fall guy.

one arson incident goes south when the burning building burps some debris at Stan.  the debris hits Stan’s right shoulder, taking him out of commission, and thus he gets caught and arrested.

since he’s in California and California has their prison population fight their wildfires for less than minimum wage and with basically a zero chance to become a firefighter after they get released bc a lot of fire stations don’t hire ex-felons, Stan eventually becomes one of those prisoner firefighters.

through this, Stan meets Angie McGucket (you seem to be new ‘round these parts (I don’t mean that in a new way btw I just haven’t seen you in my notifications before), so quick rundown: Angie’s my OC who is Fiddleford McGucket’s younger sister), who is a badass firefighter who could kick his ass if he started shit.

Stan eventually learns that Angie was in an accident involving a firework when she was a child, which made her partially deaf, scarred her physically and mentally, and gave her a burning (heh) passion to become a firefighter and protect others from similar accidents.

Stan and Angie strike up a close friendship.  at least, as close a friendship as they can have with one of them in prison.

Stan eventually finishes serving his time and paying his debt to society or whatever and is released.  he immediately decides to look into finding a job as a firefighter somewhere, because he actually felt like he had a direction and purpose in life when he was fighting those wildfires.  he’s always felt like the useless spare, but on the front lines, he was an equal with the others fighting fires.  and there’s something about saving lives and property that really speaks to him.

unfortunately, Stan can’t find any jobs at fire stations, bc ex-felons aren’t usually allowed to become firefighters.  one station, however, is moved by the obvious passion Stan has, as well as his record as a firefighter, and decides to make some calls.

Stan hears back from the fire station, who informs him that they tracked down a fire station willing to hire him.  as long as he’s willing to go to some backwoods lumber town in Oregon called Gravity Falls.

naturally, Stan is willing to go there.

when Stan arrives, he discovers that his new fire chief is none other than his friend Angie.  her older brother works for a researcher in Gravity Falls.  that researcher has been starting a lot of fires lately (supposedly on accident), so the town decided they needed a proper fire department, not just volunteers.  Angie’s brother put in a good word for her, and she was hired to start up the fire department.  bc of Angie’s experience with felons fighting fires, she’s willing to hire ex-cons like Stan, and bc the mayor gave her full control over decisions (he basically told her she was in charge bc he didn’t have any idea of what needed to be done), she’s able to hire ex-cons.

eventually, at yet another call at the researcher’s house, Stan discovers that the researcher is none other than his estranged twin, Ford.  he tries to keep it under wraps, but Angie gets the truth out from him.  she says she’ll do her best to keep him from going there again, but can’t promise anything.

sure enough, Stan has to go to Ford’s place again.  but this time, Ford spots and recognizes him.  Stan tries to keep himself together bc he’s working and wants to prove he’s mature enough for this job he loves.  but Ford antagonizes him and Stan tries to punch him, only to be held back by the other firefighters.

when Stan gets back to the station, Angie regretfully suspends him.  without pay.

[ibuki-loves-you]

Killed for a Hopeful Future (Nagito Komaeda x Reader)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of suicide, domestic stuff, detailed descriptions of murder, mentions of v/mit, potential spoilers???

Mod Ibuki: Another piece me and @call-me-ko worked on together! Execution based off this fan-made one! I hope you enjoy!

Sobs were all that could be heard throughout the small cottage.

Heavy, distraught sobs.

Nagito sat in his bed, the bed Y/N often accompanied him in. Heavy sobs racked his body. He doesn't think he's cried this hard in his entire life.

His love, his world, was gone.

It was like they were taken right out from under him.

One gunshot wound to the chest and bruises around their neck. Their leg looked broken, probably from the fall.

Y/N's body was hung from the door of strawberry house and dropped all the way to grape house's floor. Blood was everywhere due to the gunshot wound.

When Nagito saw, he thought he was going to die himself. No one told him that they were the victim. They just said they didn't know who it was yet.

He didn't get to say goodbye

He didn't get to tell them that he loved them.

He didn't-

"Nagito!" Fuyuhiko yelled. Nagito swung his head around, glaring at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Nagito stated. Fuyuhiko stayed quiet. "Simple question. Is it really that hard to answer?" He snapped. Fuyuhiko didn't say anything. Kazuichi shakily sighed. "W-We didn't want to make you panic."

Nagito scoffed. "A little late for that, isn't it?"

Nagito investigated your body himself. He didn't trust anyone. You were loved by everyone here, and yet you still died. It didn't add up.

Bing Bong Bing Bong

Bing Bong Bing Bong

"Nagito... it's time for the trial." Hajime mumbled apologetically. Nagito nodded slowly.

"Give me a minute..." He responded. "Of course." Hajime said softly, moving to the elevator.

Nagito dropped to his knees in front of them. Tears started streaming down his face.

"Who did this? Angel...who did this to you?" He mumbled, stroking Y/N's head. "I promise...your killer will get what they deserve." Nagito placed a kiss on their forehead.

He began making his way towards the elevator.

Justice would be served

"The murder occurred at around 5:30 am." Hajime started.

"The murder weapon was a noose found at the scene, but they also had a wound in their chest. I think a gunshot. That could be the cause of death as well." Chiaki added.

"It was the cause of death." Nagito interrupted. "How else could they have fallen?"

"Fallen...?" Chiaki asked. Nagito scoffed.

"I'm not looking to play games this trial. I want to know the blackened as soon as I possibly can so let me tell you this so you can put everything together." Nagito said angrily.

"Strawberry house and grape house are connected. It's an elevator. Y/N died beforehand via gunshot. That means the killer went to the Final Dead Room. I would know because I went there. The elevator won't move if a living thing is detected. It moved because they were dead already. The killer tied a noose around their neck and tied the other end to the doorknob. Then, they activated the elevator. Eventually, Y/N would fall because that's how gravity works. Now, figure out who killed them." Nagito snapped. He explained the murder in perfect detail, no flaw.

With Nagito's explanation, soon enough they found the killer.

"Gundham...why did you do it?" Hajime asked, a solemn expression painted onto his features. 

Gundham stood silent. After a moment, he took a breath.

"We had a plan." He muttered. "Please explain." Hajime requested, taking a few glances at a fuming Nagito.

"Y/N and I agreed that we would allow all of you to escape at the expense of our lives. I completed the Final Dead Room, and we planned the murder from there." Gundham started.

"We wanted you to survive. Y/N didn't go down without a fight, nor did I. I request you remember that." Gundham looked towards Nagito. He dug through his pocket and pulled out a key. He walked over to Nagito and held it out.

"It is the key to their cottage. I didn't know if you had one or not, either or I assumed they'd want you to have it." Nagito took the key silently.

"I don't expect forgiveness, nor do I want it. But one thing I want you all to carry from mine and Y/N's demise is that you must always fight. Do not go down without one."

With that, Gundham was dragged to his execution.

And that's how he ended up in his room clutching a piece of your clothing while he bawled his eyes out.

Bing Bong Bing Bong

Bing Bong Bing Bong

"Please make your way to Jabberwock Park! Not attending will result in immediate death! See you soon! Puhuhuhuhu~"

Nagito looked at the monitor. Should he even attend? He didn't care whether he died or not.

After contemplation he decided to go. He dried his eyes and placed your belonging neatly on his bed. Nagito made his way out the door and to Jabberwock Park.

Upon arrival, everyone gave him pitied stares. He looked horrible, worse than he usually did, and he knew that.

"Are you alright?" Chiaki spoke. Nagito looked at her and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"No, not really. But you shouldn't worry! I'll be fine." That was a lie, even he didn't believe it.

"Allow me to introduce the new motive. Future visions!" Monokuma announced. Everyone rolled their eyes.

"We aren't gonna do that shit!" Fuyuhiko screamed. "Yeah, like we'd believe it!" Nekomaru hollered after. Nagito stayed silent.

Future visions? He didn't believe in any of that, but it's worth a look, right?

When everyone left Jabberwock Park, mainly out of anger towards Monokuma, Nagito looked at the vision motive.

A character select button appeared on a screen that seemingly came out of nowhere. He selected himself. A video began to load.

"Alright, let's go see baba." Nagito cooed. He took his daughter's hands and gently pulled her to her feet. The baby giggled in response.

"Ready? One step at a time." Nagito looked up at Y/N. They sat on the other side of the living room, smiling at the two. Nagito gave them a bright smile. With small steps of his own, he guided their daughter in Y/N's direction.

Their child shook their hands from Nagito's. Nagito let go and smiled, keeping close behind her.

Y/N opened their arms and their daughter stumbled into them. Nagito hurried over with a wide smile.

"You did it, baby! I'm so proud of you!" Nagito cheered. His daughter crawled out of Y/N's arms and into his. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"And you say she isn't a daddy's girl." Y/N teased. Nagito smiled and kissed his daughter's cheek over and over, earning a giggle in response.

"Yeah, I guess I see where you're coming from." Nagito leaned forward and gave you a kiss.

"I love you, angel." "I love you too, Nagi."

Nagito stared at the screen with a mix of horror and awe. He moved his hands towards his pale face and rubbed his temples. He took his hand and selected Y/N’s character.

“Daddy! Higher!” His daughter giggled, gripping the chains of the swing. Nagito chuckled

“A little higher, okay?” Nagito compromised. She giggled and nodded. “Okay daddy!”

Y/N smiled from next to Nagito, watching as he booped her nose every time the swing came towards him.

“Baba! Look how high I’m going!” Their daughter called. Y/N giggled and nodded.

“I see! You’re almost as tall as me and daddy from up there!” Y/N said, a smile gracing their features. Nagito nodded in agreement, a huge smile on his face. He turned his head to face his lover.

“Look how happy she is.” He mumbled, chuckling everytime she giggled.

“Daddy keep pushing me!” She said when he stopped for a moment. Nagito laughed and continued pushing the swing.

“She really is such a happy kid.” Y/N smiled throughout their sentence. Nagito wrapped one arm around Y/N’s waist and used the other to push the swing.

That was his future? Or would’ve been?

Nagito put his forehead against the screen and started crying again.

He couldn’t help but feel selfish because he wanted that more than anything.

Soon enough his tears turned to crazed wheezes, laughter shaking his body.

Hope and despair mixed in his eyes once again. He had nothing to lose…

So why not get himself killed? Or better yet get them killed. It's all their fault after all, Y/N did nothing to them yet they had to die.

Bing Bong Bing Bong

Bing Bong Bing Bong

“A body has been discovered! Please make your way to the warehouse on the fifth island!”

Everyone dropped what they were doing and made their way to the warehouse next to the factory while Nagito took his time. Everything went according to plan. Now all he had to do was wait. Whether he survived the trial or not didn’t matter much to him, since one way or another he would die.

Suicide or execution was the question now.

“The victim is Nekomaru Nidai, the Ultimate Team Manager. The murder weapon is unknown, but definitely a tool of some sorts as he was taken apart.” Hajime started. 

“Trip wire was found at the scene.” Kazuichi added. “So we can assume that was definitely used, especially since he has scratched on his ankles. Well, as scratched as metal can be.”

“Killer probably pressed the power button after using the trip wire, right?” Fuyuhiko questioned. Hajime nodded. “Most likely.”

Sonia put a finger to her chin. “So what you are saying is the killer used tripwire, and then powered Nekomaru off?” Hajime nodded again.

“Who would want to kill Nekomaru? He was so kind to us all.” Akane muttered. “I can’t answer that, I wish I could. But for now all we can do is find his killer.” And with that the trial was officially underway.

“So this is how it happened.” Hajime started. “Nekomaru was lured to the factory’s warehouse by an anonymous letter. He assumed whoever it was he would be able to handle, so he expected a fight. What he didn’t expect was tripwire a few feet away from the door. With his height, I wouldn’t expect him to see it either. Nor would I expect it myself. After Nekomaru fell into the tripwire, his head slammed into the floor, causing him to be weakened for a moment. It may not have been a long moment, but it was enough for the killer to rush into action and press his power button on the back of his neck. When the power button was pressed and Nekomaru was officially powered off, the killer took him apart using a variety of tools found at the market. This explains the mess of oil we found. The killer scattered his parts all around the warehouse and factory, thus leading to us having to find the parts and put them together for investigation.”

Hajime turned to the podium across from his.

“Isn’t that right, Nagito Komaeda? The Ultimate Lucky Student…”

Nagito smiled that crazed grin of his. His eyes were swirling with hope and despair once again.

“Yep! You are absolutely right!” He laughed. Hajime winced while Akane banged on her podium in sheer anger.

“Why, Nagito?” Hajime asked. Nagito continued to laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to die!” He said as if it was nothing. Akane growled. “So why didn’t you kill yourself!?” Nagito’s laughs died down, his emotions doing a complete 180.

“Because I wanted to kill you all as well.” He said simply. Everyone looked as if they’d seen a ghost.

“W-What?” Hajime whispered. “Did I stutter? You guys were the reason Y/N died! Y-You took them away from me!” Nagito screamed. He dropped to his knees behind his podium, sobs beginning to consume him once again.

“I-I could’ve had a life with them...We w-would’ve been happy a-and I w-would’ve had a d-daughter.” Nagito mumbled weakly. “I just want Y/N...I-I want to see Y/N. P-Please just kill me already.” He pleaded.

Everyone looked at him with a mixture of sadness, pity, and fear.

“Who am I to disobey?” Monokuma said. “W-Wait, we need to talk more! We have more questions, bastard!” Fuyuhiko cursed. Monokuma ignored him. Nagito continued sobbing and clutching his podium.

“Let’s give it everything we’ve got! It’s punishment time!”

Nagito was set up straight, strapped to a wheel similar to one you’d see on a gameshow. Every section other than him was either Monomi or Monokuma.

Monokuma spun the wheel, causing him to start spinning with it.

It landed on Monomi.

Monokuma spun the wheel again. A wave of nausea hitting Nagito like a truck as his head began pounding.

It landed on Monokuma.

The wheel was spun once again. Nagito laid cursing his luck as he began throwing up in his mouth from the constant motion sickness.

The torture continued for nearly 15 minutes. A vicious cycle of spinning and choking on his own vomit.

Monokuma spun one last time, the wheel finally landing on Nagito. He smiled, elated that the torture was finally over.

Before he could blink, copious amounts of spears fired towards him. Out of many, only three struck him.

Two in each of his legs, and one in his chest.

As he slowly bled to death, all he could think about was one thing.

He was going to see them again.

[sweetfierceimagines]

PART1/ It was supposed to be simple.  Ricky x Reader (HSMTM)

Hello everyone, I’ve been trying really hard to write lately, and it has been very complicated. I think you all understand, when everything is not ok in someone’s life, that someone kind of loses it.

But I decided to fight that, I least trying !

I discovered the series High School Musical the Musical and even though I’m 24 and supposed to be over this kind of drama, I’M CLEARLY NOT.

Synopsis : Reader is a student, she’s not technically involved in the Musical like everyone else, but she helps with costumes making and set management. Ricky gets to know her and even though he really wants to get Nini back and has a whole plan for it, life decides to mess with him, and he gets involved in a new sentimental obsession.

Warnings : none. Probably not my best writing, please be kind to me.. Just a lot of fluff and teenage drama ! Enjoy <3

Tell me if you want this to carry on ! I’ll be glad to write a part 2 if you like it :)

RICKY POV/

Here he was, playing Troy Bolton in this Musical. He would never have done it if it wasn’t for Nini.

He understood her, understood her pain, understood why she chose that stupid E.J. But he was not going to abandon. It was not because he didn’t reply that he didn’t mean it. 

So he enroled (quite amazingly by the way) in this musical. He was dancing, singing, acting.. He never thought it could actually be this fun and exhausting. He seemed to be reaching Nini’s heart more and more each day, as she was also realising that EJ was not as perfect as he pretended to be.

But something was about to mess up all his plans.

READER POV/

The school was all about that Musical. It seemed as if every other activity and class was less important and didn’t deserve that much attention. Y/N was not a singer, not a dancer. She didn’t play any instrument, she didn’t like to be under the spotlights.

She was all about reading, writing and creating. So when the art class shut down for “fund purposes” (basically meaning this musical was costing the school too much), she had to find another way to create. 

So she went for it. Asked Miss Jenn if she needed someone for her costumes and decor management, and simply started to work on the set. She wasn’t the only one working on costumes and on stage management, but she clearly was the best of the team.

And it was appreciated.

After just a few weeks, she was named “stage and costume director”, whatever that means. Even though she was pretending she didn’t care, it sort of made her feel validated, and allowed her to create as much as she wanted to, which was pretty amazing. 

RICKY POV/

It was one of these days.

Everything seemed to fall apart. His parents were ending their relationship, his mom would probably leave for a long time, Nini still supported EJ even though he was making mistakes for which she would have dumped him..

He felt like everything he was doing was not good enough and it was hard to deal with. He was not usually shy with his feelings, but this time he didn’t feel like sharing. So he stayed late, very late, at school, and waited for everyone to leave stage to show up.

He was sure no one was there, so he let his emotions speak and just let it out. He started by talking to himself, making moves and being loud. He was talking about his family, his fear of being abandonned, his fear of never being loved again, the pain of knowing he lost Nini because he didn’t deserve her back there, the impression that EJ was a better man than he was.. he could go for hours.

And then he started singing.

A couple sentences from numerous songs. Songs about love, songs about pain, songs about courage. He closed his eyes and sang his heart out. It was beautiful, strong, sincere. It would have tear anyone’s heart.

And it did.

READER POV/

Y/N was staying late, as usual. She had a special authorisation from Miss Jenn and the Dean to stay extra hours backstage, working of costumes or just on personnal projects.

At school at least, she didn’t have to deal with noise, with family issues of with anything that could poison her creativity.

She was painting when she heard a noise.

Startled, she sort of went in panic mode, imagining a hundred scenarios in which she would get in troubles. She walked smoothly to the stage entrance and remained out of sight while looking at the boy who played Troy basically loosing his mind on stage.

She could have told him that he was not alone, she was actually about to signal her presence out of respect for what he was revealing, when he started singing.

It made Y/N go numb, as if she left her body and could feel her soul burning of compassion. His voice was everything, his face was everything.

She didn’t realise, but she was crying silently.

After a couple minutes, she realised she was actually holding her breath. She breathed heavily and stumbled, making Ricky realise he was not alone at all.

The boy jumped and fell down, hurting himself quite badly.

Y/N came rushing at him, feeling terribly sorry for what happened.

RICKY POV/

- Man ! Couldn’t you say you were here?!

Ricky was flaming red, embarrassed that someone heard everything. He looked at this girl’s face and it honestly took him a few seconds to remember who she was. Yes, she was on stage pretty much each day, but at some point he got so obsessed with the Musical and Nini that he completly forgot about the environment he was evolving in.

She was pretty, her Y/E/C eyes looking terrified and guilty, and it seemed as she cried recently, her eyes a bit red.

He stood up and winced, lifting his shirt a bit to realise he was going to get bruses all over his chest and stomach.

- I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to interrupt or even listen. Seriously, I was going to tell you, i’m not a creep. Well, not that kind at least..

- Yeah? You were going to? Seems like you had plenty of time.

He sighed and headed backstage to inspect his clothes and body in the miror, assessing at bad it was.

Y/N followed, staying a few meters away to give him some space. She didn’t say anything, feeling guilty enough.

Ricky took his shirt out completly, looking at his body. Y/N could tell he was contracting a bit his abs and arms and let out a silent laugh. She observed for a couple minutes and finally talked.

- You riped your shirt a bit.

Ricky turned, facing her, looking anoyed, and lifted his arms.

- No joke ! Who’s falt is it?

- You’re the one who fell dude.

He opened his mouth to answer right back but her cheekiness cheered him a bit, and he simply nodded his head.

- Yeah, I’ll blame gravity next time I see her. A real troublemaker that one.

He looked at his shirt and sighed. He didn’t know anything about sewing and his mom would probably have other things to do. Too bad, it was his favorite old school shirt.

Y/N stretched her hand toward him and he gave her his shirt. Still shirtless, he looked as she sat down where it seemed like she was staying most of the time, in a corner with painting all over, needles and fabric. She grabed one needle, easily got the thread in and started sewing, with a hand technique that showed how used to it she was.

He looked around, noticing one painting that seemed to still be in progress. He got closer, reaching his hand to it.

- Don’t ! It’s wet, I was on it when I heard you.

He turned around, looking at her in another way. She was pretty impressive, painting stuff, sewing shirts and managing a stage so well people didn’t even realised she was here.

- That’s sick.

He said with a smile.

She looked back at him and nodded, smiling at him too.

- Thanks. I usually plan what I’m going to do but this one.. it just came to me.

He looked closer, noticing a female silouette, somehow looking cut in some parts. Not cut as stabbed, but cut as split in different sections.

- What do you think it is?

Y/N said while carrying on her sewing. She acted as she was not looking at him, but each time he got his attention back at the painting, she would look at him, trying to anticipate his reactions.

- Hum.. It’s a.. it’s a woman? Right?

He would turn to her, as if he was looking for her validation for each word he said. She simply nodded, encouraging him to carry on.

- It’s a woman, and this woman is split. She.. Maybe because she went through a lot, maybe the different sections represent different emotions? Different moments of her life?

He remained silent for a second and looked with intensity at the painting. His eyebrows frown and he suddently looked sad.

- Maybe because she can’t be whole again. She has to be split. She has to try to deal with these conflicting emotions, these ups and downs. Maybe people tell her she should be grateful, and happy, and she should move on. But she can’t, because life cut her in several pieces.

And a tear rolled down his cheek.

Y/N stood up, mooving carefully toward him, and put a gentle hand on his (still naked) shoulder. She could feel him shaking a bit, deeply moved by what he felt from the painting. 

- Ricky.. it’s ok.

He turned, facing her, his eyes still filled with tears. He didn’t quite knew why, but he didn’t feel like looking anything but himself with her. After all, she knew how he was feeling, she heard what he said, and she felt what he felt.

The way she was looking at him.. Conforting, warm, yet terrifying. She understood.

He put his hand on hers, squeezing it as if it would make him feel better. He was here, facing her, hand on hand, eyes to eyes.

Suddenly, the speaker went on, the voice of a security guy telling “Miss Y/N, time to close the school. Sorry”

This sort of broke the moment. They broke the physical contact and she gave him his shirt back. They both gathered their stuff and silently headed to the front door, thanking the security guard for his patience.

They smiled at each other and Ricky waved goodbye, whatching as she was quitely leaving of her bike.

[alldayangst]

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words. 

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet. 

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book. 

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly. 

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball. 

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?” 

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.” 

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two. 

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true. 

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it. 

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

[cinnamonest]

Makoto Naegi (DR) - Yandere Profile

Me? Producing non-genshin profiles? Releasing two profiles in one day? It’s more likely than you think!

I’ll probably do my boi Hajime eventually too. I got several dangan requests so I’m gonna start with this one and do those gradually too.

Makoto is the perfect classic, traditional yandere. He fits every trope and aspect of the archetype so well, so I just had to make him a delusional, split persona type. It's a bit ooc of course but I just see him being that type to really snap and have a whole new persona underneath. Bless him. I love soft sweet boys and turning them into nasty lil obsessive gremlins. Also I couldn't decide on a setting/version of him, so I talk mostly about a normal Makoto in normal school life, but also what he'd be like during the killing game as well as a side of Mastermind Makoto bc I'm a sucker for mastermind AUs. Note, he's 18 or older in all of these, of course.

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Tws: stalking, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, nsfw mentions, mentions of permanent mutilation, voyeurism Tws: (below cut) - voyeurism mention, noncon, Makoto being awful Additional warnings: very minor spoilers for Danganronpa 1

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Bounces between lucidity and delusion. DR1 Makoto is probably largely influenced by the stress of, you know, threat of imminent death, but even outside of such a situation, he'd be a very well hidden yandere. He's just so sweet! So gentle! You can't really seem him as threatening at all, so a lot of subtle things might go unnoticed, like how touchy he can be, how his stares linger, how people seem to avoid you when he's around. However, while the yandere side isn't obvious, the crush certainly is. He's a blushing boy, will get flustered the moment you speak to him, is constantly stumbling over his words, nervously scratching the back of his head, looking all over everywhere except at you, eyes darting away.

Obsessive. It defines his yandere side. Everything is about the obsession, the worship, it's overwhelming. The desire to kidnap you is partially protective, sure, but really? He also just wants you close, he wants you all to himself, he could just be happy looking at you forever. Stalker for sure. He's a classic style stalker, one to take lots and lots of pictures. His phone is handy for the ones that need more of a... secretive approach, but for the ones that he can take safely, from a distance, or the ones of you sleeping, they look best in polaroids.

He would definitely be one to steal things, particularly clothes. Wait until you go to do your laundry, and when you're there he'll do something like pull the fire alarm, cause something to fall over, and wait for everyone else to leave or investigate before slipping in - surely you won't notice just a few pieces of clothes missing, right? Just some gym clothes you worked out in, they smell so much like you, and some underwear you won't miss. They're just cute is all. Not for any perverted purposes, nope. He'd have a shrine, too. He'd steal creepy shit like soda cans you threw away, pens you held. He'd use his phone or one of those cameras from the mono machine to get as many photos as possible, running over them late at night, going through each one and rubbing one out to every photo he can get of your soft, innocent expression.

Deceptively intelligent. It's his number one trick. He comes off as a very... average person in pretty much every way, it's literally his character trope at first, but as we know, he's actually particularly intelligent and perceptive. Most people don't realize this, though, and it gives him an advantage. He is aware that he's perceived as a bit of an innocent, naive airhead, and will utilize that perception, which allows him to get away with quite a bit by feigning ignorance or innocence.

A split personality bouncer. Classic yandere style. Sweet, innocent, happy, but if you just keep fucking pushing the limits he'll - no, forget that, it's ok, he understands :)  ....THAT kind of yandere. He spends the majority of the time on the sweet side, but, especially as time goes on, can easily snap to a much meaner, darker persona, but it's not how he is the majority of the time. It's only brought out by excess stress from all of the... complication of things involving you.

Speaking of how he has all the makings of a classic yandere, delusional regarding love as well. Highly convinced that you'll love him eventually, convinced that everyone is out to take you away from him, and convinced that he knows what's best for you. Perhaps a bit surprisingly, he falls into this delusion pretty easily and quickly. He's likely got a bit of an inferiority complex given, you know, being the "normal" person among some of the best people in their fields. He likes the idea of anything that can give him a sense of importance, of value, of being needed, and he chooses to project that into your protection.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Normal schoolboy Makoto, well, he'd have to find a way. He wants to, really, the moment he meets you, but how can he do that? He lives in a dorm. If you went missing, surely they'd investigate the dorms right? He'd ultimately probably end up running away with you, finding some way to get by while he keeps you safely locked up in some tiny apartment somewhere.

As for the how, he would take a very traditional method. Ask you to meet him at a certain place and time behind the school, and you'll never see it coming, be it chloroform or a blunt object or whatever he chooses. You wouldn't suspect someone as sweet as him to ever be planning anything of the sort. He feels bad for hurting you, but it's for a greater purpose. Within minutes he'll have you stuffed in a sports bag or instrument case or something of the like, carrying you off, and no one will no where you could have gone.

Will definitely be that one that gets interviewed by the news on TV, the best friend of the poor girl that went missing, and he's all sniffly and teary while talking about how much he misses you, how he's so worried about you. He's actually a very good actor when he really, really needs to be. It's also his way of atonement, in a sense. If he can show how much he cares about you, even if it's in a situation where he's lying, it makes him feel better.

DR1 Makoto, well, he'll be virtually immediate. Don't you understand the gravity of the situation? You could DIE! He can't let that happen. You may be insistent that it's ok, that you want to all try and work together, but in his mind, you just don't understand how serious this all is. You're just too naive. The only solution is immediate action. He'll be gentle about it, probably lacing your tea or coffee with something he found laying around in the nurse's office to make you just a little bit sleepy, so dazed you won't even realize he's guiding you back to a room that isn't yours, won't even hear yourself being tied up.

If the others ask what happened to you, well, he'll say he has no idea. They'll likely assume you're simply dead. After all, if a body isn't discovered, how would there be a trial? They search and search but no one ever finds a body. How strange.

He might simply tell them you're paranoid and holed up in your room. It's ok, though, you trust him to bring you food, so they don't need to worry about you. As for the trials, well, you can't participate in those if you're unconscious, now can you?

As for MM! Makoto, well... Who's to say this isn't his way of kidnapping you? You're separated from that awful awful outside world. That's The whole point of it all, all of this was for you. To isolate you, and the game is simply to strike some fear in you, make you understand how evil and traitorous humans are. You'll never want to leave. And of course, he intends to play until there are two students left. Unfortunately for the others, the winners have already been... predetermined.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

Unfortunately for you, Makoto is one of those yans that is perfectly ok with your life consisting of being tied, 24/7, in one place. He'd keep you restrained at all times, with something soft of course! He doesn't want to hurt you, but it's for your own safety.

DR1 Makoto would constantly be coming back to the room to check on you, make sure you haven't left, make sure you're ok. He'd neglect all of his free time opportunities to talk to others and opt to come be with you instead.

Normal Makoto would invest in some special security measures, namely, a very special shock collar that he bought off of some sketchy site. It's made for humans! It has a lock with a code and everything. You honestly wonder why there's even a market for such a thing. It's not just light shocks, no, it has settings. It syncs to his phone, with a built in remote app, one he can push and it'll give you a nice shock of whatever level he sets it at.

However, the collar is also synched to a field of range that it will detect your location in. It's set perfectly to the boundaries of your little home. If you were to step outside the door or the window... Well, it's not going to kill you, but you'll be out cold, and he'll get a notification telling him you tried to leave. The first time, maybe, you can calm him down and convince him it was an accident, you tripped and crashed against the door and it just ever so lightly pushed you over the boundary. He'll believe it... Once.

Unfortunately, he's also one of the ones who sees no issue in permanent bodily modifications to deter you from leaving. He's not like some of the previous yans I've discussed, though, because it's not out of sadism or a lack of care for your feelings, it's a delusion thing. He'll be so sweet about it, reassure you that it's ok, it's for your own good, you're too precious and innocent and the outside world will hurt you, but this way you're safe from yourself and your own naivete. He'll be so, so careful and take such good care of you, he'll give you something strong so that you don't feel any pain at all.

He's also perfectly fine with you living in a constant drugged state, out of your mind, drowsy and completely unaware of anything in the world except him. And things are better that way - really, you can't say you're not happy, you seem so content like this. You don't complain, you don't get angry, you just giggle and smile and loll your head back and forth. You don't fight him. You just smile.

In other words, regarding escape, you might as well give up. Your only real chance is being rescued by someone else, someone who might just notice his increasingly odd behaviors, but if they believe you're dead, which he will go to great lengths to ensure you do, it's unlikely to happen. Any attempts will just be met with a sweet smile, a little laugh at how dumb you are to think that would really work, and quickly taking you back, where his demeanor might get significantly angrier once he can really let loose.

MM! Makoto is an equally unrealistic chance, the worst of all, really. It's just not happening. He'll also likely convince you, much like as the DR1 and V3 did, that the world outside is nearly destroyed, or somehow unlivable, that you're lucky to be here, and that this is the only place where you're safe. 

If you try, he'll crack down on however the hell you managed to escape because... how would you even go about that? I mean, the whole environment was designed to be inescapable, and if a whole class of students couldn't find a way out, it's unlikely you will either. Any attempts will likely be dumb and unsuccessful enough that he can't even get mad, it's just amusing.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Oh, easy. We see in Chapter one of DR1 just how easily he will bend to the will of a girl he likes and nearly end up getting himself falsely accused of murder and all, so safe to say he's pretty easily manipulatable and if you're looking to survive, you can use that to your advantage. However, really, you're better off manipulating him into being a meatshield - he'll guard you 24/7 and be more than willing to die. Poor baby. 

However, if he catches onto manipulation once, and it doesn't involve your safety, he'll learn pretty quick. Deep down he's a highly intelligent young man, and you may find the tables turning pretty quickly - he can easily manipulate your paranoia and mortal fear, convincing you that if you just stay with him, you'll be safe, convincing you that everyone else is out to get you, convincing you that this or that person is plotting to kill you. He's so sweet and innocent looking, you'll believe every word.

Bonus: If he were the mastermind, he'd be so deceitful and do it so well, you'd never know. An excellent actor through and through. In a way, it's not acting at all - he loves you and wants you to be safe. This is all so that you'll just understand that you need to be kept away from the outside world - you're actually perfectly safe, he's taken measures to ensure that, but you'd have no way of knowing. Even if you feel like those cameras in the rooms at night almost seem like they're staring right at you.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Very few. He'll baby you and prevent you from doing most things for yourself. He'll be one to try and keep you entertained, though, most likely get you some kind of tablet or laptop you can use to write, let you play all of his games, let you watch anything, and get you any kind of materials for any hobbies you have, provided he's deemed it non-dangerous. So, given all of that, you don't need to do anything else, right? He'll see anything more as just you pushing your limits, because you're trying to be difficult again. Complaints go in one ear and out the other.

DR1 would be the worst Makoto to have, because he can't provide you with much, and can't lock you in from the outside... so, his primary go-to is gonna be keeping you completely restrained all the time. Don't worry, though, he assures you that once you guys get out of here, he'll take you away to a much nicer place with much more to do! But for now, you'll be getting very acquainted with his ceiling, left with nothing to do but stare up at it. He'll try to be around as much as he can though, and won't leave you for too long, only leaving when necessary. And for the trials you'll just... have a little nap, so it'll feel like no time really passed at all.

Ironically, MM! Makoto gives you the most leniency. He'll make sure anything dangerous is taken away, but then, he'll let you roam the abandoned, hollow shell of the school, whenever he has to work on something, which isn't too often. Of course, this is partially because he's got an eye on you via cameras every waking moment, so really, you feel his presence even when he isn't there.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

For a normal Makoto, he'd be one to give you a "schedule" to help you adjust. He doesn't want you getting depressed and laying in bed all day, it's bad for your health! He wants you happy and lively and that way you can have more fun together! He'll give you a list of very simple tasks to complete throughout the day. If you don't do them, that's ok, you can do them together when he comes back, but they will get done. Other than that, of course, no running away, no attacking him, and you know, just try to be a bit grateful and nice.

If you make him mad enough, he needs time to cool down, and he presumes you do, too. He's one to pull psychological things -- locking you in a dark, dark room with no light or sound for a long enough time, all alone, ignoring your cries and whimpers until he knows you've learned. But once you have, and if he sees the results have turned out as expected, he'll be sweet and affectionate when he takes you out, and tell you he's glad you see things his way now.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Normal Makoto, once again, we have a very classic yandere trope. He's delusional and in love and anyone who gets in the way will suffer. He's, again, very deceptively intelligent, and he can easily commit a murder, even a string of murders, that no one would ever be able to put together, and certainly that no one would ever suspect someone like him of committing. You could say it's like a talent of his. He has no guilt or remorse, either, and no value for the lives of people who are his enemies.

DR1 Makoto, He's limited to two people, unfortunately. If he had it his way, he would kill them all. But still, that's enough to win. He'll bide his time, setting things up so that hopefully, the more intelligent students get eliminated early. He has masterful ways of pulling strings here and there, planting ideas in people's heads, off handed comments that might just inspire a killing. Once there's only idiots left, well, once two of them go missing, in the most elaborate, confusing murders in the game thus far, they'll never figure it out. 

Of course, he'll certainly find a way around the rules. He'll force the mastermind to have no choice but to let you both live. Injured students can't participate in trials if they're out cold, no? So if you have some minor bone breakage, get drugged conveniently before a trial begins, you can't participate. And if you didn't participate, it would really be upsetting to everyone watching if Monokuma killed off a student who couldn't even partake in the trial. After all, they might have been able to turn it around! So really, the mastermind has to let you both live.

Or maybe, he'll convince you to do it with him. Force the weapon into your hand, force it down on the poor poor victim, holding your hand in his. Monokuma can't prove you weren't putting some exertion into it, that it was all his force. Therefore, really, you both killed them. Therefore, the trial is against you both. Therefore... He can get rid of everyone in the way, all at once, with only one left to go - the person behind that bear. And he will find a way - you'd be foolish to underestimate his capabilities. After all, you always thought he was just a lil empty headed guy, shy and flustered, and look how wrong that was.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

In the "developing stages" of obsession, not so much. He's generally a sweet, easy-going guy, even a little bit of a doormat if we're being honest.

Normally, he gets pouty-mad, not violent-mad. Almost what some might call a girl-sort-of-mad, the kind where he huffs and pouts and pretends to ignore you. It's either kinda cute or infuriating, depending on your mood or how you view it. In that state, all you have to do is give him what he wants, of summon a quick apology, and he'll bounce back to normal and loving and affectionate nearly immediately. It's part of an immature streak he has.

He has his snap moments, and will snarl and growl at you with the most furious expression for just a mere moment -- but he snaps back to sweet and soft as quickly as he changed the first time. It's a little bit of mental whiplash for you, really. You almost feel like you imagined it. In those moments, though, he may just for those few instants get a little violent.

If he's truly furious, he gets quiet. It's a little terrifying, really, you know something is coming, and it's not pleasant. He'll likely just grab you and slowly, tortuously drag you to whatever he has planned. He'll give you a very grim, cold expression, and coldly tell you this is what you deserve, and if that's locking you up, he'll tell you you can come back out when you're ready to behave.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. He's a worshipper. He can't even believe he gets to be in your presence, even look at you, he's unworthy and it's all so overwhelming.

It... Gets annoying pretty quickly, actually. He's not gonna sit around and degrade himself all that much unlike SOME certain lucky students cough cough, but he'll constantly grovel and remind you how perfect you are. He's not good enough for you, he doesn't deserve you... a bit ironic to hear, since that certainly didn't seem to stop him from taking you away against your will, but there's a lot of hypocrisies that don't really line up with Makoto. 

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Highly so, but also deluded into thinking you do pretty easily. Even if you're screaming and yelling, he just thinks you're having a bad day, throwing a tantrum. He thinks you do love him, if you're in the later stages of things. Anything that conflicts with this delusion is explainable otherwise, usually the default being that, as usual, you're just being difficult, but that's ok -- he really loves you anyway.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Ironically, what makes him unique compared to my other yanderes is that he's more fitting for the traditional yandere type - a very cute-faced, psycho sweetheart type. He's highly prone to the classic yandere tropes and attitudes, as well as the mental and emotional instability traditionally associated with yanderes - smiling no matter what, even as he does awful things, but also snapping to a dark, angry state over the smallest things.

Guilt tripping. It's his specialty. He's so cute, so sweet, you wouldn't want to make him cry and make him sad... Would you? You're not that cruel, are you? You wouldn't throw away everything he's done for you and leave him all alone with no one... Right? He'll easily manipulate you this way, it's his specialty.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

The thing about those soft sweet boys that are just so innocent? Half the time they're the nastiest, horniest little pervs there are. He's sweet, he'll help you with everything you need! You're struggling to reach that shelf so he'll just put his hands on your hips and squeeze you and lift you up! But he'll stumble a bit, and when you come down you'll kinda land on him just a bit, chest pressed up against his face, and you'll be the one embarrassed - but it's ok. He says he knows you didn't mean to. And he's so sheepish and embarrassed about it himself, clearly it must have been unintentional.

And he's so innocent and kind, you know he doesn't mean to be so touchy, doesn't mean to cling to you so much, so you can brush it off. After all, he's just so nice, you wouldn't want to offend him.

Will jerk off on every single thing he has of you. Every little polaroid, every article of clothing he's stolen, every little thing. It's gross. He's gross. By the time you're kidnapped you might even find some of your clothes that went missing, and they're hard as a rock. Ew.

Like a lot of yans, will get significantly bolder once he has you all to himself. Much more touchy, much more suggestive, boldly, openly horny and just, constantly begging you to just fuck already, whining and even rutting into you if you're still in denial.

MM! Makoto will also 100% watch you get undressed through the cameras every night. Save the video feed and just watch it over and over again, taking in every little detail. Cum all over each little video, watching it drip down the screen. He can almost pretend it's actually dripping down your face, and not just the image of it.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

I... within the first hour of your confinement you're gonna know what this boy's dick feels like. He has no restraint. He just loves you so much! Hell, you might even wake up to him just, grinding into you, jerking off to you. You're just so pretty. You can't expect him to be too restrained, you know? He's so overcome by love for you that he can't help it.

High-level delusional. Will make up every reason in the world as to why you might be rejecting. You're nervous, it's ok, he'll help you get over it. You're insecure, and he'll help you get around that too. Ultimately, in the end, you're not getting out of it, nor putting it off at all really. It'll be the first thing you do to start off your new little lifestyle.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

D/S dynamic

Except... in a really weird way. It's the sub without the dom. Or not really submissive at all. It's a very bizarre dynamic you'll have going on - the way he talks to you is so submissive, so sweet, constantly asking you if you feel good, constantly whimpering and making the cutest little noises, constantly worshipping you, you'd almost forget he has you tied up and is forcing you through it. He acts submissive in his own way, and yet he's completely controlling you. In fact, you're pretty certain he wouldn't actually let you top him in any way, and any attempts to do so will be met with him denying you, telling you to just let him do what he wants take care of you. His attitude and words are submissive, yet he insists on controlling you completely. It's, again, bizarre in its own way, but what isn’t bizarre with this man.

Oral fixation

A guilty one for him, with his whole service attitude and all, because he really likes to be on the receiving end of it. Cumming down your throat is fine and all, but really he's one to pull out and cum all over your face. Bonus points if you wear lip gloss to smear all over his dick, wear glasses he can get cum on, or anything that makes it feel special.

In his rare angry, more dominant moments, he can get kind of rough with it. If he's really mad at you, hearing you choke is a rather satisfying feeling.

Paizuri/Thigh fucking/outercourse

The boy's seen too much porn. Just, pleeeeeeease let him cum on your tits. Please. He begs for it over and over, doesn't matter if you tell him yours are too big or too small, he just really wants to cum on them. He just wants to feel your smooth skin on his dick you know? Maybe he can get the tip in your mouth while you do it too!

And while you're at it... Let him fuck your thighs. Please? Just hold your legs together, not hard right? There's just something about actually seeing his dick against you that makes it so nice, and so temptingly close to your holes. But if you've agreed to it as a way of preventing actual sex, it might just... accidentally go in anyway. It was just too slippery... but now, he's already fucking you so... might as well keep doing that instead.

Cockwarming/activity-sex

Our boy likes his vidya. And you know all those jokes and references to, you know, getting sucked off under the table while he plays games....? He just... really, really would like that. It's a big fantasy for him. He's probably the type of guy to be way too into league of legends dammit and he just, would love to have to try to be quiet, try to get off down your throat while trying not to alert anyone that can hear through his mic. Or just sit on his dick, it's heavenly, he'll gradually just lost control and start losing his game, before eventually cutting it off and exiting altogether in favor of rutting up into you. He likes it, but he doesn't have a whole lot of self-control to actually do it for long before giving up and just fucking you.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He's one of the ones that really wants it, he thinks it would be so cute, so precious, and of course the benefit of it tying you to him. He might be one to get a bit jealous, though. He likes your attention, and can be a little bit immature about it. Unfortunately, though, he's not actually aware of his own immaturity, so this can present a problem.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

(Insert "iiiiits punishment time!" joke here)

If he's in this mode, an angry mood, his demeanor for sex changes significantly. The weird pseudo sub attitude isn't really there, it's more of a quiet neutrality, a frustrated, but calculated anger that brings out the worst in him. It's honestly frightening for you in and of itself because it's such a dark expression and rough voice and so unfamiliar that it would freak you out just to see him like that.

The go-to is impact pain. In this rare-ish mood, he can actually change pretty significantly -- normally, he'd never dream of hurting you, would feel awful if he did, and would not enjoy it in any way, but now? He kinda... feels like you deserve it, and he'll undeniably get off to it a bit. Something about watching you cry and squirm really helps alleviate the anger. He'll be soft about it later, wipe away your tears and softly murmur nice things... but he won't apologize. You deserved it. If it's that bad, then you'll just have to not do it again.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

A thigh boy. Let him use your lap as a pillow, and he'll be a very happy boy indeed. He likes feeling them wrapped around his hips, or his head, likes squeezing the flesh in his hands, likes running his hands up and down.