#if we have a slightly uncomfortable conversation he will stop engaging with me and try to distract by telling me he loves me.

[outlanderalien]

Not sure if I'm sabotaging my relationship or not but I feel like I'm in the right ? Perhaps ?

[incognit0slut]

was i stupid to love you?

in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.

content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)

The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.

Not here.

Not now.

Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”

You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”

He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”

You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.

It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”

The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”

You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”

A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t want to eat anything?”

You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."

The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”

A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”

“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”

Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."

He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."

"Right. Considerate.”

There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.

“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

"Honey."

The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.

He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"

The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.

“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”

The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.

His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.

Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Your heels click softly as you turn.

“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.

“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”

You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.

“Honey.”

Not again.

You decide to ignore him.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

You tug harder at the strap. “No.”

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”

You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can. But let me—”

“I can do it myself!”

Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.

You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.

You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”

You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”

Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”

"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"

You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”

You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”

He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.

You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.

This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.

“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”

His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”

“What do you remember of it?”

There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."

“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”

His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”

There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.

A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.

“That’s not what happened."

“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."

“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”

His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."

“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”

A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.

“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”

“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”

He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”

The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”

“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."

“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"

He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"

Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.

You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.

“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”

“But you could’ve put me on there!”

The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.

“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”

Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”

Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.

“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”

Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.

“I need a minute.”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”

You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”

“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”

You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”

“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”

“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”

“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”

“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you!”

A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.

“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.

“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”

You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”

“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."

Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.

"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."

You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.

“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.

You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.

“You haven’t explained it to me.”

The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”

His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.

“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”

The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.

You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.

“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”

You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.

“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”

He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”

You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”

His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."

You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"

He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."

Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”

He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”

You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.

“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”

He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”

“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”

“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”

You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.

“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"

You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.

You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.

JJ said she loved me.

Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?

Don’t worry. It’s not true.

But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.

“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”

In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Now those words you might actually believe.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.

And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.

A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.

“What are you doing?”

You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”

His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.

“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”

You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.

“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”

There’s a sharp ache in your chest.

“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”

Your pulse ring in your ear.

“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”

“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.

“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“Spence…”

“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”

But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.

You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.

You feel like a fool.

“I want to go to bed.”

His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.

“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”

A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.

You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.

“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”

You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.

The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.

Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.

[tecchoussuperlady]

Hello! I saw your request open so I came here! Hope you are doing good!

Can I request a Ranpo x Reader who is motherly towards him? He slowly would have a crush on her, like a Dom reader without NSFW! Thank you so much :')!

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹

EAT MY LOVE

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹

I was so excited to write this, thanks for the request ml!

I swear the more (far) you read it gets better.

Warnings: very slight violence (a slap on the face), allegory, cursing, very hidden SA (s/o being uncomfortable) -not by Ranpo!

1,776 words.

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹

Atsushi's tired legs lead him towards the well known building. He could get there even with blindfolded eyes. His daily worries changed a lot since his life took a 360° turn. But there is nothing he regrets now, even if he is risking his life daily, he's not scared. He got place where does he belongs to and feels happy.

He hurriedly opened the door and let his body fell on the older sofa. If it was any other day he would complain about it's uncomfortable and prostrate being. But this old sofa never felt as soft as today.

"Ahh finally back..."

In the background was echoing loud sounds of lady wearing heels going towards the floor. She sat on the couch next to the silver haired boy and patted his head, as exhausted as him.

"How was the mission?"

A boy with ginger hair asked the two.

"Terrible."

The young lady said with heavy accent.

"We had to be hidden in dirty bushes for hours. I can't even feel my feet anymore. And worse, the port mafia was trying to engage too. Oh man, i wish we could eat Tea on rice"

Atsutshi sighed at the memory of his latest mission.

"When we are talking about food, did you bring me the pastry from the new bakery?"

Ranpo barged into the conversation without second thought.

[Name] got up from the older sofa and waved with a paper bag in front of the detective's face.

"Oh, how amazing coworker I am. Aren't I?"

"Yea yea, now give it to me!"

Before Ranpo could snatch it from her hands she opened the bag and took out the wagashi.

"Open up!"

The detective opened his mouth without hesitation.

As her hand was moving closer and closer to his mouth she stopped for a second and then put the delicious pastry in her mouth.

"Uh? Hey!"

The detective started whining and pouting as if the world was about to collapse.

"Mmm so yummy, maybe if you were less greedy and more decent i would give you some!"

"You are such a meanie [name]! Give it to me!"

You ignored his whinning and your attention shifted to your Atsutshi.

"Atsutshi! Aren't you tired and hungry after such a long mission?"

When Ranpo realized that you are trying to give the candy to Atsutshi he started screaming even louder.

"How can you even-"

You quickly stuffed his mouth full with the wagashi and he happily started munching on it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹

"[Name]..."

"What is it?"

Your fingers were carefully going through Ranpo's hair and massaging his scalp.

"Wanna sleep over today?"

"Last time i did, I woke up with half of my hair covered in your droll..."

A/n: i once read that Ranpo would chew on his s/o hair in sleep and i can't get it out of my head

Ranpo turned his head away in embarrassment and his cheeks slightly flushed.

"I don't know what are you talking about, you probably saw it in your dream..."

"Of course."

You brushed it off trying to suspend your laugh so he wouldn't get more embarrassed.

"And anyways, I'm already taken on today's night. I'm going out."

"Out? Why would you go out at night?"

Ranpo turned his back to you opening his emerald eyes looking into your soul as an lost kid.

"I'm going on a date."

You said with unbothered tone.

"But why?"

"To find someone obviously-"

"But you have us already, why do you need someone else? You have me."

"Well..."

You weren't how much Ranpo was into this theme. He understands the point of dating even over his partly childish personality, right?"

"... It's for a different type of close person. Like-"

"I know what do you mean. I'm not dumb. I'm the smartest detective in the world after all! Just, I don't think you need someone else."

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹

Your date wasn't what you expected at all. He was too noisy and...

He doesn't know how to use chopsticks. Even with your attempts to make him change it for a fork he wasn't giving up and both of you were receiving weird looks. You were certain that you won't ever step foot into this restaurant again.

You weren't sure why you hate his loud self. You were decently used to it as co worker of Ranpo Edogawa and Dazai Osamu. So why did this guy's existence was annoying you? You weren't sure.

Him slurping noodles was one of the worst sounds you ever heard, but you were certain that Ranpo is ten times louder. And his loud giggles though Ranpo is sometimes so loud that the whole street has to close their windows.

And last but not least was him eyeing you shamelessly. Dazai did that at least once a day with some flirty note. And Ranpo would sometimes move his eyes to where they definitely shouldn't look. Though you never confront him about it. You don't even know by yourself why. It was just... a lot different?

"So, your top is really pretty..."

The man's eyes fell lower towards your chest.

"... do you usually wear such a clothing to work?"

You slowly looked up from your food at the man.

"Just shut the fuck up and eat your food."

You stuffed your mouth with the food and looked outside of the window annoyed, ignoring the confused expression on the man's face.

As you were thinking about how the two of you will pay for the food your phone started ringing.

The man looked up from his food and you picked up the call.

"Hello?"

"[Name]! We need your help urgently!"

"Huh, what is it?"

"Ranpo-san uhhh..."

"What is with him? Did he finally got diagnosed with diabetes or-"

"They took him! He was on his way to buy some snacks and they kidnapped him!"

Why was he even buying snacks at 9pm? Uh, nevermind. Did the agency got the location?"

"Yes, they did. I will send it to you, thanks! You are the best."

Atsushi hang up the phone and looked at his coworker.

"Ranpo-san... are you sure that this will work? I mean, [name] is not stupid and i don't really wanna get into problems with her."

"Just trust me! She will be too worried to realize it's fake, she cares about me after all, right?"

"I guess, but she will so mad when she will find out."

"Leave it on me! And now you can go back to your apartment to Kyouka. I will be okay."

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹

There was not a single athletic bone in your body, that's what you knew for years. But right now you felt like you were about to break an world record. If you came too late, this afternoon might be the last time you saw Ranpo alive.

Where are others?!

They can't be to far away or too busy when someone's life is in danger.

With one swift kick the door flew open and Ranpo was sitting calmly on a chair in the middle of the old dirty room from a past hospital which was left there abandoned.

"Hey! I thought that you will let me die here all alone. You were taking quite-"

Your hands quickly hugged him. Eyes getting glossy from fighting tears.

"Please don't cry, it's not even an real kidnapping!"

"What?"

"I personally hoped that your inteligence isn't so low to not realize it's fake. If i were really kidnapped Fukuzawa would definitely already be there in matter of seconds, no matter how busy he is. Or anyone else. Were you really that worried about me? Because-"

...

The sound of slap landing on that delicate skin echoed the room. And everything went silent.

"What are you-"

"You selfish idiot! You are really nothing but a dumb kid! Why on the earth would you such a stupid thing? Why?! What would you do if next time someone actually kidnapped you and i would assume it's your another stupid joke and you would die!"

"The detective's eyes widened and tears started spilling."

"Can't you once act like an decent human being? Do you think that this was that funny to play with your life?"

"I... I'm sorry, it wasn't supposed to be like this!"

The dark haired boy said in between sobs.

"Then why?"

"Because i don't want you to leave me! You keep going out on dates or with others, but eventually you will want to get married to them sooner or later and you will leave me and forget me."

You started at the crying boy with stunned face.

"Why do you think i would forget about you or get married? All men outside are jerks anyways."

Your hands softly caressed his hair and hugged him. He still couldn't stop crying.

"I'm sorry, don't leave me."

"How could i leave you? Who else would bring you your daily sweets and let you chew on their hair?"

"I'm serious, i love you."

You stopped caressing his hair and looked down at him.

"What?"

There was no response, just muffled sobbing. Ranpo... why did you even looked at him as kid all the time? He was an adult, older than you. How could you never notice.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded with his head still burried in your chest.

You gave him little kiss on his forehead and slowly started wiping his tears away.

"More than your favorite lollipops?"

Another nod.

You couldn't fight away the smile and gave him peck on his cheek and another on his other cheek.

"I feel honoured then."

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹

I promise, I will correct the grammar mistakes tomorrow in the morning.

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹

[silverynight]

The roommate

<---Previous

Part XXVI

"What's your ideal date, Izuku?"

Perhaps it's just an innocent question, but Izuku is so tense because of the mission, he immediately has a bad feeling about the whole situation. Besides, even though he's usually friendly towards anyone, the way Toga is grabbing his arm is making him want to put some distance between them as soon as possible.

"Uhh... it used to be going to the park or maybe a fair and share a crepe with the person I like–"

"Are you hungry, Izuku? Do you want a crepe?" Toga asks, blushing even more.

"No, thanks... I actually have to go."

"Why?" Kana cuts in, the moment she notices that Toga looks disappointed. For the most part, she left them alone; she seemed happier walking right behind the two and not engaging in their conversation at all.

"My boyfriends are waiting for me," Izuku blurts out, not knowing if it's the right thing to do at the moment. He knows he should be trying to pretend things aren't going that great in his relationship, but right now there's nothing he wants more than to see them again.

The grip Toga has around his arm tightens and it becomes slightly painful.

"You're hurting me," he points out and Toga squeezes him even tighter against her before she lets him go.

Izuku doesn't like Toga at all. She makes him feel uncomfortable and nervous.

"They'll eventually hurt you," Toga narrows her eyes. "They don't deserve you."

Izuku starts wondering if Toga is one of those people who started sympathizing with the heroes' haters after Kana was released and shared the villain's ideals with the world or if she was always like that due to personal experiences.

"They love me and they try their best," Izuku argues; the need to defend them is stronger than anything else. "I can't ask for more. Besides, I make mistakes too. Nobody is perfect."

"Pro heroes certainly aren't," Toga huffs, getting more irritated with Izuku's response. "But people seem to think they are."

"Some of them do," he agrees. "But not all of them. It's truly a mistake to idealize people, not only pro heroes. They are human too and although they shouldn't get away with crimes just because of their position, we shouldn't judge them too hard when they make harmless mistakes."

Toga shakes her head, but doesn't argue with Izuku because she doesn't have anything to say to that.

"I don't trust pro heroes and you shouldn't either."

"I trust Kacchan and Shoto."

She hisses and Kana doesn't look happy either, but Izuku stays calm, mostly because there's a lot of people around. Although he shouldn't feel like this; they're just two girls with strong opinions.

"I must go. It was a pleasure to meet you," Izuku tells Toga, before waving at Kana.

It looks like Kana wants to say something else, but Toga stops her; Izuku has never been that relieved to leave a shopping center before.

As he walks away and into a street nearby, he finally has the time to read Hagakure's texts; she apparently didn't like Toga at all and decided to ask Yaoyorozu to find out more about her.

"Izuku."

He hears Shoto's voice and he definitely bumps into a broad chest and a hero suit that looks exactly like his, but as soon as Izuku looks up and stares into familiar mismatched eyes he is completely sure this is not his Shoto.

He knows Hagakure is still following him because it's part of the deal, but he wonders that now that she's seen his "boyfriend" she would go back to the agency immediately.

"Hi," he mumbles nervously before he takes his phone to text her quickly, but a pair of hands snatch it off his as they also take Izuku's groceries.

"Let me help you with that."

"You know what?" Izuku smiles, trying to look as calm as possible. "I forgot something, I need to go back to the mall."

"I know you're really smart, Izuku and I'm sure you know this is not your stupid boyfriend. But you'll have to come with me–"

"Hagakure!" He screams. "This is not Shoto!"

The villain makes such a disgusted expression that looks so foreign on Shoto's features that it makes Izuku to instinctively take a couple of steps back. He's ready to run.

"There's a pro hero here?" The fake Shoto hisses. "I should've known!"

Then he takes a knife out and Izuku has the sudden feeling (maybe because of his nightmares or the way Toga approached him earlier) that he has finally solved a complex puzzle.

"Toga?"

"I told you to call me Himiko!" She hisses again with Shoto's face before stabbing him.

Izuku screams in pain.

"What are you doing? You told me you weren't going to hurt him!" Is that Kana's voice? She doesn't sound happy anymore.

"I won't kill him. He just needs to learn a lesson!"

Izuku wishes she stopped using his boyfriend's face and voice because it hurts to see Shoto trying to harm him, even though Izuku knows it's not the real one.

Then, she removes the knife, which is even more painful; he knows it'll also make him bleed profusely. Then, something collides with Toga, and she begins to turn back into her original form.

A blond, naked, but wild young woman willing to do anything for what she wants.

Although Izuku is not sure what she wants at the moment, the only thing he knows is that he's bleeding, feels dizzy and his knees can't support him anymore.

He falls to the ground as he realizes Hagakure is the one fighting Toga.

There are a couple of people in that area now and some of them are calling an ambulance and others the police and asking to be transferred to a hero agency.

A couple of them are taking videos of what's going on. At least they have Toga's transformation on their phones now.

Everything's confusing.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know she was going to hurt you!" Kana is at his side now, although Izuku can't be that sure; his vision has become blurry out of the sudden.

He's going to pass out.

"She's confused, but she means well..."

There's a scream, but this time it comes from Toga.

"What did you do? You blinded me!"

Izuku nerd's heart would have loved to see how Hagakure managed to do that with her quirk; he has seen her on YouTube videos a couple of times... does she reflect light to the point–

His vision turns completely black for a second.

Maybe it's not the time for hero combat analysis.

"Die!"

The familiar, absolutely rude yell comforts Izuku immediately and even the explosion that follows it.

"Izuku, love, are you alright?"

For a second, he flinches at the sight of Shoto, but one look tells him this is his boyfriend, the real one.

"It's alright, Izuku. It's me, please..."

He feels safe now, despite the pain and the amount of blood that's coming from his open wound; Izuku had been trying to stop it with his hands, but he's too weak to put pressure on it.

His vision is turning black again.

"Izuku, don't close your eyes," Shoto pleads, desperate, worried; Izuku is almost sure he's about to cry. "Stay with me. The paramedics are here–Izuku!"

"IZUKU!"

His Katsuki is getting closer now, but he can't stay awake anymore.

At least he's with them again.

***

He wakes up a couple of times; the first one he's inside an ambulance and the paramedic is asking a few questions to Katsuki.

"Izuku?"

His eyes can't stay open for too long.

The next time he's on a bed, in a room that smells too clean and covered on light blue sheets.

"Are you alright, baby?"

Izuku beams as he looks up at Katsuki; he's being extremely soft and gentle with him because he's worried. He also looks tired and like he's about to break.

"Love?"

Shoto is there too, which makes Izuku feel better immediately; he's still dizzy, but there's no pain now, although Izuku suspects they gave him a couple of painkillers for that.

Suddenly, his boyfriends take his hands and lean closer to him.

"I'm glad you're here," he manages to say.

"Don't you dare scare us like that again!" Katsuki huffs, trying to hide his own concern, but he intertwines his fingers with Izuku's. His eyes are red; he must've been crying. Shoto doesn't look any better.

"I was scared." The man with mismatched eyes admits.

"It's okay," Izuku smiles, pulling them closer (one at a time) to give them both a kiss on the forehead. "I'm here."

***

You can read Part XXVII, Part XXVIII and Part XXIX on my patreon already.

Patreon

[merakiui]

meraaa !! consider this : 

it's late at night, and you're leaving a party; all your friends are drunk, so none can give you a ride home. you call an uber, and [insert yandere twst character] is your driver. all is going well during the drive; you're engaging in cordial conversation with him until you notice he's not following the directions on the map. you question him –

"don't worry, i'm just taking a shortcut,"

suddenly, everything feels off. his smile didn't look as kind as before, and his attempts at reviving the conversation were fruitless. whether to fill the uncomfortable silence or because he's confident he'll get away with what he'll do next, he reveals the truth. he's been stalking you for the last four months; in those four months, he's learned everything about you. innocent things like your pet peeves, favorite foods, and friend group to not-so-innocent things like the size underwear and bra you wear, how many hook-ups and partners you've had, how many times your heart beats a minute (*cough cough* rook), etc.

you sit there in mortified silence, mind racing to think of a plan to escape, call for help, hijack the car, anything. he watches you through the mirror, observing your countenance, awaiting your response. the doors have a child lock on them, your phone is dead, and you figure he probably has a weapon in the compartment next to him in case you attempt to seize control of the vehicle. even if you manage to, you’ll likely both be killed in an accident.

amidst your anxiety, the car stops. you look out the front window to see woods ahead of you. is he going to kill you here?

he turns back to face you, flashing you an eerie smile.

“don’t forget to give me a five-star rating.”

you hear the doors unlock. 

you quickly open the door and decide to make a run for it.

anddd.. the rest is up to you ! i based this on a horror short on yt. i think this concept would fit characters like rook, jade, trey, and maybe even jamil.  

also, can i be 👁️‍🗨️anon?

AAAAAA this concept is made for characters like Rook and Jade, but then I also agree that it can fit Trey and Jamil. The latter two fall into the unsuspecting types category, in which they just seem so friendly or so average and normal that they couldn't ever do something so horrible. They don't have to try very hard to catch you either. You're intoxicated and it's dark; you'll stumble and possibly injure yourself if you aren't careful, or you'll run yourself lost and they'll easily catch up to you. The night ends with you captured and packed neatly away in their car, where they'll drive you to your new home. It may be difficult at first, having to get accustomed to shackles and a mattress and a cold, eerie basement, but you'll learn to find comfort in him and your surroundings.

And the "don't forget to give a five-star rating" part... please, that's so Jade. T_T he's about to hunt you down, and yet he still wants that rating... he's so troublesome! Although it's not much of a hunt if he's just casually trailing behind you while you stumble blindly through the woods. ^^;;; depending on who kidnaps you, I think the situation will be slightly different. Trey and Jamil are definitely the better out of the four because they won't do anything rash, whereas Rook and Jade just like to walk the line of danger when they're able to. The rush is what invigorates them. But Trey and Jamil are determined to keep you captive, so they won't risk losing you just for temporary excitement.

It's all varying types of logic with the four of them. >_< but we can agree that the worst of them all are Jade and Rook. They're just a different level of crazy and dangerous. ;;;;;;

[gxldenlush]

Wedding date || c.s

Pairing: best friend!chris x fem!reader

Summary: y/n needs a date to her competitive sisters wedding.

Warnings: use of y/n, nickname (ma), random names for sister & her husband, slow burn (no development in this part)

A/n: gonna be a series so lmk if you want part 2. semi proofread😓

word count: 1840

Pink=y/n

Orange=chris

༻☙✽༺

“But I hate weddings! I doubt she even wants me there anyways” I’m currently pacing around my bedroom, protesting to my best friends reasoning as to why I should go to my sisters wedding next month.

“It might be fun, y/n. You might meet someone” Chris shrugs on his end of the already 3 hour long FaceTime.

“That’s the thing, I told her I had a boyfriend last month when she came over for dinner” I now regret this lie, but at the time I didn’t know that my sister would get married so quickly.

“Y/n, you are the most single person I know, and this is me talking! Why would you even tell her that you were dating someone?”

I instantly roll my eyes at the thought of my sisters competitive attitude. “You know what she’s like, Chris. She’s always trying to one-up me, i just told her about my new job and she instantly adds on that she got a promotion as though what I said meant nothing.” I stop my pacing and I throw myself backwards onto my bed with a groan.

“So you tried to one-up her?”

“No, she started talking about her boyfriend and how perfect he is, mom gave me that expectant look, you know the one? Her smile says “it’s okay” but her eyes say “if you say the opposite of what I want you to say, I wont talk to you for weeks”. I just cracked!”

“And now you have a non-existent boyfriend?”

“Yep” i sigh dramatically which pulls a laugh out of Chris. “So when she was on the phone talking about her wedding, she told me i could bring my boyfriend, I couldn’t say no!”

“Why didn’t you just say you broke up?”

“No way, that’s so much worse! Do you think Nick could pretend to be straight for one night?” I only half joke, genuinely willing to try anything.

Chris laughs loudly at my suggestion “Nick couldn’t even pretend to be straight when he thought he was straight! Look, how about this, if you can’t get a better solution by the week before your sisters wedding, I’ll go with you.”

I sit up and my eyes widen and shine with hope and gratitude as they look down at Chris on my screen.

“really? You’d do that for me?”

“Sure, why not.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll let you know, alright?”

Chris nods and changes the subject slightly.

“So, your sisters… fiancé… how long have they even been together?”

“Like six months? I don’t get it, honestly.I know the whole ‘when you know, you know’ stuff genuinely happens for some people but, I’d still want to be with them for much longer just in case, you know? Even if they propose at that time, I’d stay engaged for a while first.”

“Yeah, I agree. I feel like they probably don’t even know each other totally yet”

“Exactly!”

“Yeah, I think you have to know a girl for at least a year before knowing if she’s ’the one’, y’know?”

“I agree”

We’re silent for a few seconds before i mumble another comment. “He’s kind of creepy too, I do’t like him.”

“Creepy?” Chris’ tone has altered ever so slightly. Concerned. Protective.

“Yeah, he’s always staring, doesn’t understand personal space… he’s just strange”

“Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“A little bit, but I think that’s just because I don’t really know him.” I scoff. “My sister doesn’t even know him and she’s marrying him”

“If he ever does anything to you-”

“Which he wont”

“If he does… you’ll tell me. Right?”

“Of course I would.” He flashes me a smile.

“So anyway, did you figure out who ate your pop tarts?”

“I don’t know for sure but I’m fully convinced it was Matt”

We continue going through random conversational topics until we both fall asleep. A call that lasts about 5 hours? That’s normal for us, every single night that we aren’t seeing each other in person.

༄

“So, did you find a date for your sisters wedding?”

It’s a week before the wedding and I had no luck in finding a date. I shake my head as I hand him a Pepsi.

“Damn… so what colour tie should I wear?”

“You still want to be my date?”

“Sure, it’ll be fun. Besides, you can talk shit to me about your sister the whole time if you want” He smiles, knowing that sentence alone will convince me.

“Alright, but only if you’re okay with going?”

“Of course I am. One thing though”

“Yeah?”

“Your sister fucking hates me” he laughs

“Oh well” i shrug “Emma hates everyone that doesn’t love her as much as she loves herself. besides she’ll just have to deal with the fact that I love my totally real boyfriend”

“Awh, you love me?” He plays into the joke “damn, you’re saying it this quick? You’re turning into her”

“Woah, that’s not even funny!” I try to sound serious, but I can’t help but laugh.

“Wear your yellow tie, if you still have it, the one you wore for homecoming?”

“Yeah I’ve still got it, are you wearing yellow?”

I nod with a smirk “she hates yellow, and I look great in it”

“Ooh, we’re going bitchy for this wedding. I love it”

༄

“Hey, I’m here, are you almost ready?” Chris says over the phone as I finish up my hair in the mirror.

“Almost, just finishing my hair, just come up”

He hangs up the phone, I assume he’s walking into the house, I hear him walk up the stairs and lightly knock on my door.

“Come in” I turn to face the door, smoothing out my yellow dress as he opens the door.

When I take sight of Chris, my heart flutters. He looks so handsome. I can’t help but find hin attractive. I note that his eyes widen when he sees me.

“Holy shit, ma. You look gorgeous.” He sounds breathless, i think nothing of it, maybe he walked here.

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself” I smile as I make my way over to him, I raise his tie and put the end of it against my dress. “Perfect match”

“Like fate”

“Or destiny” we laugh.

“Alright, let’s get going. Mom and dad are already there with Emma.”

“Shall we, m’lady?” He holds his arm out for me to link to.

“We shall” I laugh as I take his arm.

༄

The reception was lovely, I have to say. It was an outdoor wedding in the middle of summer, the weather was perfect and so were the vows. I am now sat at a table with Chris to my right and my father on my left with my sister beside him, drinking champagne and finishing dessert.

“So, y/n, how long have you and Connor been together?” My sister pipes up, clearly getting Chris’ name wrong on purpose.

“His name is Chris.” I reply through gritted teeth

“Oh, right. Silly me”

I roll my eyes as I conjure up more lies “we’ve been dating for about two months now, but we’ve ben friends for years”

“Yup, loved her even then” Chris adds in, leaning closer to me, placing his hand on my thigh, an action that is only visible to me, which confuses me. I smile at him, he kisses my cheek as I struggle to control my blush. What is happening to me?

Once we’ve finished dessert and our glasses of champagne, music starts to play, my sister and her new husband are called up by the DJ to begin their first dance. Everyone gathers around the dance floor to watch and record their first dance as a married couple. When I hear the song that’s playing, I scoff, shake my head and go sit down. Chris follows after me.

“Hey, don’t you wanna watch them dance?”

“No” I reply, sulking.

“What’s wrong?” He sits sideways in the chair next to me to face me, he takes my hands in his, seeing that I’m clearly upset.

“When we were kids, we used to watch Princess and the Frog, this song is from that movie. I told Emma that when I got married, this would be my first dance song.” I explain as an extended version of ‘Ma Belle Evangeline’ plays.

“Well, you can still dance to it now?”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts. When the DJ calls more people over to dance, we will dance too. Me and you.” He stand up and holds his hand out for me to take. “And we’ll dance a damn site better than them” he smirks.

“Now let’s get the bride and grooms parents and siblings up.”

I sigh and take Chris’ hand, he leads me to the dance floor and we start to slowly sway to the music, my arms around his neck and his hands on my waist.

And I love you, Evangeline…

I recognise his cheeky smile and I laugh as he takes my hand and starts to spin me around, we sway again, smiling and only looking at each other. Just as the song is ending, Chris dips me, like in the movie that I have also watched with him over the years. He slowly pulls me back up to stand when the song ands and everyone applauds. A huge mile on my face.

“Thank you”

“Anything for you, y/n” he smiles back at me, there’s a hint of something else in his eyes that I can’t quite place, all i know is that it’s something good.

The night goes well, apart from a few comments back and forth between my sister and I. We all laugh and dance and drink. That last one bars Chris, he doesn’t drink alcohol, even after Emmas new husbands many attempts to coax him into drinking something.

I ended up having to snap at him, which pissed off my sister to no end. “James! He said no!”. Emma didn’t speak to me after that.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, you gonna be alright alone?” I mumble to Chris as i pick up my handbag and stand up.

“Yeah sure, I’ll just talk to to your dad” He smiles up at me, I ruffle his hair to which he slaps my hand away making me laugh

“Wont be long” I make my way to the bathroom, leaving the large marquee and going into the main building behind it.

Walking down the hallway, I hear my name being called.

“Y/n!”

When I turn around im surprised by who meets my gaze

To be continued…

———

@mattscoquette

[brakingpoint]

Adding onto the point you made about rpf and I just wanna mention the video that Mercedes released of George reacting to his 'meme' scenes and imo you can clearly tell that at one point he was just so uncomfortable? And how that is not okay because at the end of the day thay are the ones providing the content and if they all are made to feel like that, than i wouldn't be suprised if they just stopped sharing personal stuff?

i checked this video out after seeing this ask and it was certainly just... a choice to have him react to one girl's extended tiktok that was just thirsting over his photoshoot. like it wasn't actually a "meme" there was no real humour to it there was nothing for him to really say about it (which i think at least partially contributes to his awkwardness in that section)... like the person who made that tiktok is in the comments and she's chill about it seemingly but it's such a weird decision. i know "celebrities read thirst tweets" has been a thing for years but that's normally quick, snappy, slightly absurd statements that actually are funny enough to get a reaction, plus they usually blur out the author's handle & photo and often their display name too. to just make you look at one young woman's actual face and listen to her actual voice for a minute straight as she talks (fairly blandly, no offence to this woman, she was just trying to generically thirst in peace i presume) about how good you look in a photoshoot is just... so strange and i can't figure out what the person who planned that video thought the appeal of that section would be or what george would possibly have to say about it?

imo that definitely comes into the same category as admins using ship names etc in that they're taking things that are definitely intended for intra-community conversation and, because in the current age of social media (and especially on hyper-algorithmic platforms like tiktok) fan spaces and official spaces are exactly the same thing, decide that they can get more attention from the younger fangirl [theoretically gender neutral, though i'd guarantee marketing teams aren't viewing it that way] demographic by acknowledging them and leaning into the lack of separation between church and state (blorbocedes, 2023).

then people who are new to fandom & don't know the etiquette, especially in rpf fandoms, think - quite understandably, if this is the way admins are acting - oh cool, well in that case it's okay and normal for me to talk about ships/thirst/my y/n fantasies to the drivers and teams, and if that gets engagement the admins will continue blurring those lines and pandering to the shipper demographic as far as they can without actually getting into inappropriate territory, and this will make the existence of the rpf side of f1 fandom even more noticeable & something of a curiosity attraction to other types of fan. and as has already been discussed all this almost certainly won't lead to a "George and Lewis Read Your Fanfictions" video posted by mercedes-amg petronas f1 team's official youtube channel. but it could more realistically lead to one of like lando or max's mates namedropping everything changes or whatever in a twitch stream as a gag. which, i must stress, we also do not want

really tl;dr i guess it's. as people have been saying, a lot of the drivers are probably aware that rpf (slash fics or x reader) exists. we live in a post-larry world after all. but that does not mean they need to be privy to the details or have it shoved in their faces or have open discussion around it encouraged by their own social media teams

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

so happy to be with you.

18+

Masterlist

The next few days flew by in a flash. Now that you had chip Tyler in your life, and now that you had chip tailor in your bed. There really wasn't anything else that you wanted to do with your life. 

You found yourself calling in sick to work more and more often. You had always heard about addiction, but you never knew that you could be addicted to sex this way. But truly, you didn't care at this point what was going to happen to you with your job. All you wanted was to spend your time with Chip. 

All of your time with Chip. You couldn't help but be a little bit curious though, about the man that was in your bed, the man that was making you feel so incredibly good day in and day out. So much so that you were almost willing to lose your job just to stay in bed with him.  it really wasn't your place to dabble in his business.

But maybe Chip wouldn't mind telling you about his life. I mean, if you ask and he doesn't want to answer, all he has to do is say he doesn't want to tell you, you'd understand. Would you really want to ruin a good thing? 

Chip notices this puzzled look on your face and asks you if you are OK. 

"Oh yeah, I was just thinking, you know"

" about what?" He asked you with a smile on his face as he tightened his grip around your body.  

"You know, we've been going at each other like a couple of rabbits for the past week and. We don't really know that much about each other. Wouldn't you like to know something about me?" You asked him, shifting in his arms, slightly uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable with his arms around you, but uncomfortable with the current conversation.

"Well, sure, but I didn't want to ask you anything that was going to make you uncomfortable, but I don't mind telling you anything you want to know. What would you like to know?" He asked, moving around the bed a little bit so that he could slide up and have his back against the headboard. While he holds you and engages in conversation.

"Well, like, where are you from? What's your favorite color? How many girlfriends have you had? Is this something that you do on the regular? You know, pick up women, have sex with them for a while and then just throw them away? I don't want that to be what we do. I want to be able to keep you, to know that when I come home, you're going to be here. I'd like to be domestic. You know, I like to give domestic a chance and Try to Cook. Maybe not always Having Bernard make everything for me, be able to. Come home, put on a little apron and make you dinner. I think it'll be fun to be domestic for a little while."

Chip would be lying if he told you that the idea of you coming home putting on an apron to make him dinner didn't seem like the sweetest and hottest thing in the world. I mean, here you're talking about being domestic for him and wanting to make a life with him, and all he can think about is ripping the apron off of you and taking you on the dining room table.

 "Are you OK?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Oh, yes, yes, I'm just. Thinking about how wonderful that life would be, I never really had anyone to cook for me. But. Life with you shouldn't just be about you cooking for me and taking care of me. It should be about something that makes both of us happy."

"Well, I have to say, sex with you makes me very happy." You told him with a giggle as you rubbed your hand up and down his tone stomach.

"Really?". He asked you with raised eyebrows. "Well, it makes me very happy to. I never really felt." He stopped short of finishing the sentence. Tears clearly starting to form in his eyes. 

At this moment you weren't really sure if you should intrude on his current thoughts or just let him be. But you decided letting him be was not going to be the thing that you did this morning. 

"Are you OK?" You asked, moving your hand from his stomach to his chest. 

"My life wasn't happy before you, I have to say. No one ever wanted to cook for me or take care of me in any way. My ex-girlfriends They were awful. they never really loved me."

"Never really loved you?. How could somebody not love you? You're so amazing and sweet and kind and amazing in bed. Any woman would be so incredibly lucky to have you. Believe me, I feel incredibly lucky to have you. And I would never, ever hurt you. Chip, please know that I will never hurt you. I will love you forever. Hell, as I said, I'm willing to try to be domestic for you. I mean, like, actually cook something."

"i know and i love the whole Idea of that Probably a little bit more than I should. I mean, should I really be so turned on by the thought of coming home and having you making me dinner and come home from where I don't even have a job? I don't know what I'm gonna do with the rest of my life."

"Well, I can help you with that. There's always stuff breaking at the hotel, and they don't really have a handyman per se. So maybe you could be our handyman. I could put in a good word for you. Do you know how to fix things? I mean, I already know that you're good with your hands, but can you fix things? You know, little things around the hotel. Like clean the pool, clean the pool filter, stuff like that."

" You could do that for me. You could get me a job at the hotel, like a real job. This app had jobs before but. Uh, you know, cleaning a slime out of a pool wouldn't be that much of A stretch from jobs that I've had in the past."

" OK then, it's settled. Tomorrow or whenever I can pull myself out of bed now, out of your clutches, I will put in a word for you until my manager, that my sexy boyfriend, who will They bring in customers needs a job."

" You think I'm sexy?" He asked with a slightly high pitched voice.

So incredibly cute because obviously you think he's the sexiest man you've ever seen in your life. Which you can appreciate how Chip is so sweet and doesn't see himself as such. There's nothing worse than it, conceded Man, you think as you shift in his arms. So happy to be in bed with this man.

"Yes, I believe that you are incredibly sexy. And women will definitely come in to see you. I mean, even if they don't stay, you know, maybe get a drink by the pool or something."

"Great. So how should I repay you for getting me a job?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

"Oh. I'm pretty sure I can think of a way for you to thank me." In an instant. The two of you were tangled, mess of limbs all over again. You're pretty sure at this point that it was going to take a while for you to get him a job, given the fact that you couldn't even leave the bed. 

Next day you managed to get yourself out of bed. And ask your boss If your boyfriend could have a job. Thankfully, your boss agreed, since you were right, you did need someone to fix things around the hotel.

Chip was so happy to have a job. Even though he had $68,000, well, a little bit less now. He knew that that wouldn't last forever. On this first day on the job. He changed the pool filter. And fix the ice machine. Other than that. He pretty much was just hanging around looking pretty.

But most importantly, he was hanging around making you wet. So much so that when you had your break, you know exactly how you were going to spend it. In the utility closet with chip deep inside of you.

"Are you sure we should be doing this at your job?" He asked is he was thrusting in and out of you. Acting like he had absolutely no problem whatsoever with the current events.

"Well. Probably not, but. If I get fired, I can't think of a better way. To go out."

" You mean other than going out with the bang?" He smiled. Chuckling slightly as he thrusted once more. At this point, you know that he was going slow intentionally. But it's OK. As long as he was inside of you, that's all you cared about. You made no attempts whatsoever to hide your moans of pleasure. And believe me, Chip didn't want you to hide them.

"i'm so happy to be here with you" he whispered in your ear. 

[d1g1tal-d1ary]

Snap out of it // Alex Turner

Summary: no summary again as this is just a drabble, but it was inspired by the song "Snap out of it“ 🕺🕺

Warnings: none, just fluff

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The expensive apartment in London was already filled with conversation and laughter when I stepped a foot into it. I would've been lying if I said I wasn't nervous. A few friends of mine had developed a little tradition of hosting a get-together every once in a while as it could get quiete hectic and it was easy to lose sight of each other in day-to-day life.

This year, however, was a bit different; Alex and I had broken up a few months prior and not once seen each other again afterwards. Sophie had been nervous to invite Alex - even though he surely had grown close to everyone in the last few years and wasn't just my plus one - and had asked me nearly a thousand times if I was comfortable with him being there. Of course I had said yes but the more I thought about it, the more nervous I grew.

I luckily didn't see him until everyone sat down for dinner. But when I caught a glimpse of him; his hair had gotten longer since I last saw him and was now messily slicked back while he was wearing one of those suits that made him look so, so, so gorgeous, I couldn't help but feel my heart missing a beat.

I sat down across from him with sweaty palms and no thoughts but just him when everyone fell into a light conversation. Everyone but us - I didn't dare to lift my eyes in fear of meeting his gaze because I could feel his dark brown eyes watching me so intensly.

"Oh, we haven't gotten the chance to talk this evening," Ivy - an old school friend of mine - said which made me look to my right. "How have you been, y/n?"

I forced myself to a small smile before I answered her:" I've been wonderful. I'm currently working on my bachelor. What about you?"

"Bachelor?" she repeated with a big grin. "That sounds indeed great. I've been just fine, thanks for asking. Have Alex and you finally moved together?"

I was sure the silence that now filled the room would haunt me even in my dreams. I gazed around the room but found no relieve; everyone was staring at me with wide eyes. Everyone but one person - Alex was watching me with amusement behind his lashes and I wanted to tell him what an awful person he is for not helping me in this kind of situation.

"They're not.. uhm.. together anymore, Ivy," Sophie broke the silence and I could swear I heard nearly everyone exhaling in relieve.

"Oh!" Ivy exclaimed loudly. "Oh, I'm so, so sorry! I don't know how I got that mixed up. Must've been someone else who has recently moved in with their spouse."

"Yes, well, Oliver and I recently moved together," I explained with an awkward smile; the smile was so forced it hurt in my cheeks. "That's probably the reason you thought.. we moved together."

"How long have you been together? You and Oliver, I mean," Sophie asked further and I could feel the need to prevent any more awkwardness radiating off her body.

"Four months," I replied. I felt stupid telling them that - I knew we moved quickly and maybe I hadn't been thinking much when I agreed to move in with him but-

"A bit fast, don't you think?" Alex interrupted my thoughts. He seemed so chill; so relaxed in the way he leaned back in his chair and watched me with a smile. But only I could see his slightly knitted brows; the depths of his eyes and the scoff which he was trying to hide.

"He's the one," I replied but I didn't believe myself. "So why wait?"

"So that's what you're happy with?" he questioned me. "Movin' in, engaging and sooner than later staying at home with your children while he's at work?"

"Uh, Alex, I don't thi-" Sophie tried to stop this awfully awkward debate but I cut her off:" Some people are satisfied with a simple life."

I didn't care about the way that everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats and a few of the people at the table stood up; nearly fleeing from the tensed atmosphere to smoke. All I cared was to proof Alex that I was happy; happier than when I was with him.

"That doesn't sound much like you, y/n," he chuckled dryly and leaned forward. "You're not made for one of those suburb lives. Besides, he doesn't deserve you."

"He cares for me," I had a frown on my face as I spoke. "You have no idea who he is and why I like him. So stop thinking you're better than everyone else because last time I checked, you were the one who left me all heartbroken.

"You like him?" he immediatly repeated and I knew I had lost this debate right then and there. "You can't even say you love him because you don't. You're- I don't know, under a spell or something."

My anger grew with each passing word and I stood up abruptly; glaring at him from across the table. Maybe he was right - maybe I didn't really love Oliver. But he was in no position to tell me that.

"I think it's the best if I go home," I sighed. "I'm really sorry how this turned out, Sophie. I didn't mean to cause such a scene."

And with that, I was already walking towards the hallway to collect my coat and flee the scene. Tears suddenly welled up in my eyes as I heard the other murmur and whisper; obviously talking about me.

"Y/n-" Alex called after me but I quickly opened the door and stepped outside. A groan left my lips when I felt raindrops falling on my hair; destroying my curls. "Y/n, please. You don't have to leave yet."

I turned around with so much anger and rage that my face wore a stoic mask now. With a pointed finger towards him I said:" You're the worst person alive! You ruin my luck right after I found it and- and you have no problem with it!"

"No, love, that's not what I meant to say," he began softly. "I just- I can't listen to you talking about a life that he wants. I know you, y/n. I know your dreams and they definitely don't include children nor settling down at this time. Maybe later, but you have your whole life ahead of you! You shouldn't be giving up just now."

I was sure that this wasn't my proudest moment but instead of replying, I simply turned around and walked home even in the heavy rain. And when I finally arrived at home without crying anymore, I felt so empty. I felt so empty kissing Oliver hello, sitting down next to him and watching the football game. Because - I hated him for that but - Alex was right. That wasn't what I wanted. I wanted none of that bullshit.

Because forever isn't for everyone and it is definitely not for me.

[lgvalenzuela]

Part one…

It had been a week since they found him. No sign of Solas, just the Inquisitor missing a body part, the arm that used to hold the Anchor. Could've been the pain or maybe the shock, but he hadn't awakened since the accident.

So there was no information, just a good excuse to keep postponing the Exalted Council, at least they knew he trusted lady Montiliet to handle such matters, or at least Aeryn and Dorian were quite sure of it.

Cassandra wasn't that sure, Aeryn looked for any excuse to sing praises for her lover. And Dorian saw the Inquisitor screaming in pain while his arm…what would be a good word for it? Disintegrated? He hadn't been the same since then, he barricaded himself in a room with the Inquisitor, only coming out under extreme need, or to send messengers to his homeland, that his arrival would be postponed once more.

So clearly their tevinter companions were quite blinded by love, which was terribly romantic, and horribly misplaced given the circumstances.

Cassandra made her rounds around the palace, walking near the Inquisitor's quarters often enough that she would be the first to have news. Well except for Dorian, obviously.

Who was engaged on a well too known scene once more:

"The Imperium will have me for the rest of my life! They can wait a couple of months until I've made sure the Inquisitor is okay! So you can tell them to shove every other messenger down Corypheus dead arse!" he shouted to a messenger

But this time he wasn't alone, the dwarf put a hand on his arm reassuringly:

"Come on Sparkler" said Varric with a softer tone of voice

Dorian sighed, exhausted, rubbing his eyes:

"That…was uncalled for and I apologize… It's not your fault, but please tell them to stop sending people" he explained apologetically

The messenger bowed and left the scene in a hurry, while Varric rubbed Dorian's arms:

"I did tell you not to get involved with a protagonist" he said, Dorian exhaled a faint laugh

"That you did…"

"He'll be happy to see you there when he wakes up"

"I…don't know if happy would be the word…"

"Yes…the arm, his hand…"

"He'll be glad to see the Anchor gone" said the Seeker, invading the conversation "He seemed… quite uncomfortable since he got it, followed by sporadic bouts of pain in particularly stressful situations…and now…"

Varric rubbed his neck, looking desperately at Dorian, but the mage was just starting furiously at what was once his companion. Varric coughed awkwardly:

"Yes it was…killing him…"

"But Cassandra-" started Dorian, quite visibly trying to calm his nerves "You do notice finding himself one-armed now…will also kill him, right? Maybe not literally but-"

"Will he really be that upset that he won't be able to go close rifts anymore?"

"Oh Seeker…" Varric shook his head disappointedly

"That's all you ever did see, huh?"

Dorian tried to leave, who knows what stopped him in his tracks, maybe he'd been mulling over this feeling for way too long now:

"Do you really think Vaelaan is going to keep the Inquisition running? After everything?"

"Everything?" she asked, she covered her mouth slightly

Remembering the Battle with Corypheus, the shock in his face when he hell his horn in his hand, his face covered in blood:

"Sparkler don't take it there" Varric tried to mediate

"I try to…because it's not my place, it shouldn't be me saying it but…Seeker do you really think we were discussing the ability to close rifts when we talked about the loss of his arm? After all this time…did you understand nothing? It's been two years and you still don't know Vaelaan at all?"

"What-? Of course I-"

"Yes? Did you just remember why Varric calls him Mandolin!?" he looked at her, intently, with his hand still holding tightly on the doorknob "Or did you just care about how he was useful for the Inquisition?"

Varric looked down, heartbroken. While Cassandra stood there in silence. She frowned slightly, couldn't tell if she was disappointed in herself or just angry at the sudden burst of passion:

"Why do you care what happens to him or the Inquisition Pavus? Aren't you going to abandon them both?"

She covered her mouth immediately, but the damage was already done. Couldn't tell if Dorian looked more angry or sad, but he held the doorknob so tightly the palm of his hand was turning red.

Whatever friendship they had gained over the years, gone just like that, in a few seconds.

Could probably say the same for Varric, shaking his head, disappointed…and hurt:

"Playing dirty I see…" said Dorian with a shaky voice "I'll refrain myself because…It still isn't me who needs to have this discussion with you…and the rest…" he explained repressing a quiet sob "Consider yourself lucky I've decided to keep to myself some choice words…"

Whatever else they could've said was interrupted by the sound of a loud crash inside the Inquisitor's chambers. Dorian bursted through the door with Varric and Cassandra following close.

This is precisely the reason Dorian wanted to keep an eye on him, to make sure he would be there when he woke up…

Images flashed through his eyes when he saw the man he loved, tired and defeated. Images of a future he long thought they had avoided, when he met that very same man, this very same moment. And he was different, but so similar…

So young, and still looking so old, so miserable…He wanted to protect him from so many things, but…some things are inevitable…

"Amatus…"

Vaelaan smiled weakly:

"Hey…sorry I worried you Beloved…"

He tried to laugh but…he just stared down, motionless, dead…

With the remains of a broken down mandolin on his hand.

[hermanunworthy]

Howdy! I’m a mid-time reader, first time poster. Do people still say that? Have people *ever* said that? Anyway.

I’m not Writer Anon (though I’ve read a couple of their asks that they’ve sent you and Abraham Lincoln, the prose. It’s great) and I know you’re more of a Hermie blog - with some teens and Nick thrown in for flavor - but I have been having Thoughts. About Sparrow and his relationship to Lark and his father and himself. *Maybe* I’ll write a fic about Sparrow at some point? But I don’t really have enough cohesive ideas to make the kind of thing I’d want to make yet, and since I do not have any in-person friends to rant about the stuff I *do* have with, I shall leave this here instead. I hope you enjoy my fun little spiral about me thinking Sparrow thinking about Lark.

He looks at Lark’s face, undisguised loathing painted across it at even the mention of the man who raised them, and thinks, Father and I smothered our anger for you. Father beat his to a pulp and I snapped the neck of mine and we both buried them our backyards in as deep a pit as you can manage with your bare hands. And when mine tries to claw its way out of its uneasy grave I go and I rip it apart until there’s no longer enough of it left to even try. And when it stitches itself back together I do it again, and again, and again - and I’ll keep doing it until both you and I cease to exist. 

He thinks, Of all the things we learned from our Father, why is this the one thing you took from Barry? He thinks, Anger isn’t a weapon or a blessing or a tool to be used, it’s a monster that tears into you as much as it does everyone else. It’s a curse that will sear its mark on those you love for as long as you let yourself burn with it. It will leave you hollow and cruel and empty, if you let it. He thinks, You would let it, if I wasn’t here to stop you. You still might let it one of these days - no matter how hard I try to prevent it or how many people you hurt in the process. He thinks, Hatred for yourself does not excuse the greater wound. He thinks, Suffering, in and of itself, is not atonement - it’s just suffering. He thinks, If your self-inflicted hurt causes those you love to hurt, it isn’t really righteous in the way you want it to be. In the way that you pretend it is. He thinks, It isn’t righteous at all.

He thinks, You could do it if you really wanted to, I know you could. Nothing in the world has ever stopped you from pursuing what you wanted - not friend, not foe, not family - so why do you act like this is so hard? He thinks, You don’t have to forgive him. You don’t even have to forget. All you have to do is try not to murder him with just your eyes from across the room and engage in polite conversation. He thinks, Our Father is not the one with the greater sin between you two and yet his is the one you cannot let go of.

He thinks, If it were really that hard, I would have left you years ago.

Out loud he says, “I understand. I’d never want to put you in a position where you’d feel uncomfortable-“ (Lark narrows his eyes down to slits at the word choice but doesn’t interject) “Especially on purpose. I’ll…. I’ll talk to Fa- er, I’ll talk to him about it and see if we can find some happy middle ground where you maybe don’t have to see each other, but he can still attend.”

Lark’s mouth twists into a sharp-edged frown at the end of the sentence, radiating frustration and disgust like an aura - which Sparrow cheerfully elects to ignore (it’s quite easy at this point, he’s had quite a lot of practice after all). “Okay. Fine. He can come. But tell him that if I see him again, I’m not going to stop at just socking him in the jaw.”

Sparrow winces slightly at the blatant and bluntly worded threat, “Noted.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh, unhappy but resigned. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“Lark!”

“Alright, alright. Don’t get your britches in a twist, I’ll be there.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Yeah, okay.” Lark cracks a slight smile. “Worrywart.”

I’m the privacy of his own head, Sparrow thinks, I wish I didn’t have to be. 

“You caught me.” Sparrow smiles sheepishly, staring at the ground while toeing at the dirt with the tip of one Birkenstock so Lark can’t see his eyes.

For you I buried my anger. He thinks, still smiling - face fixed in a rigid grimace of joy like a fly trapped in a web. But you might as well bury me too.

AAAUAGAUAGHH OH MY GOD IM SO INSANE ABOUT THE TWINS. tysm for this anon i got so excited waking up to this in my inbox!!! i love the contrast between sparrows inner feelings and outward behavior, and the burying metaphor is so interesting! their relationship is CRAZY to dive into and i love how u did that here. wonderful wonderful, plz keep up the good work!! i love my fellow writers in this fandom :D

[ga-yuu]

Yoritomo & Yoshitsune - Chapter 6

----Part 1----

???: "----You don't have to beg like that."

A strange glow obstructs my view.

Yoshitsune: "For he, who tries to defile that kindness, deserves retribution."

Yoritomo: "I agree. You did well, Yoshino."

(Yoritomo-sama! Yoshitsune-sama!)

The soldiers rustle in surprise, then call out their names in a mixture of screams.

Yoshino: "You came...to save me."

Necromancer: "But, how----"

Yoritomo: "We each felt uncomfortable with the way the war was going, so we joined forces to find out."

Yoritomo-sama's briefly explained the situation in front of the soldiers...

----FLASHBACK----

---A few hours ago, they both met on a small hill overlooking the battlefield.

Yoritomo: "Hey, Yoshitsune."

Yoshitsune: "...Why are you here? What happened to your subordinates?"

Yoritomo: "Strangely the battle is winding down. I've decided that it's safe to just tell them what to do now and get out."

Yoritomo: "Yoshitsune, you came here alone because you too felt something strange right?"

After hesitation, Yoshitsune opened his mouth.

Yoshitsune: "My skin tingles and the wind feels like it's complaining in my ears."

Yoshitsune: "Whenever there's this kind of chest-thumping, there's always turbulence."

Yoritomo: "----As ever, a man with an unusually keen sense of battle."

Yoritomo clicked his tongue in amusement.

Yoshitsune: "What do you mean? Yoritomo. What are you thinking?"

Yoritomo: "I told you this fight is bending strangely. The number of corpses has, at some point stopped increasing."

Yoritomo: "Either the necromancer is preserving the corpses for some reason, or...."

Yoshitsune immediately grasped the meaning behind the words and his eyes widened slightly.

Yoshitsune: "He move out of our sight and called the dead."

Yoritomo: "I see that as the more likely option, given the state of the war."

Yoshitsune: "So where might they be?"

Yoritomo: "Don't know yet. Unlike last time, there are too few decisive moves."

While conversing, their eyes explore the terrain below them.

Eventually, Yoshitsune pointed to a certain point.

Yoshitsune: "----That's."

Yoritomo: ".....!"

Yoshitsune: "The corpses over there aren't making uncontrolled movement."

Yoshitsune's wide-open eyes are somehow filled with a horrifying deep colour..

Yoritomo knew that at such times Yoshitsune could see things that could not by others.

Yoshitsune: "They are not trying to slaughter the soldiers they're engaged with...."

Yoshitsune: "They are trying to stop movements by carefully surrounding them so that not a single person escapes."

Yoritomo: "So they're trying to cut off contact with the other soldiers and keep information from us?"

After a brief exchange of glances, Yoritomo and Yoshitsune kicked their horses' bellies at the same time.

Yoritomo: "If that's the case, then their target, it's probably----"

Yoshitsune: "...Yoshino."

----FLASHBACK ENDS----

(They noticed the discomfort without receiving a message....)

Yoshitsune: "No further explanation necessary."

Kicking away the swarming corpses without any difficulty, Yoshitsune paid with his sword.

The corpses' hands, still reaching towards me, are now slashed away by Yoritomo-sama's sword.

(They both are fast!)

Necromancer: "...I never thought my plan would mess up like this!"

Necromancer: "Kill them! Kill both the heroes!"

Yoritomo: "A classic example of how easy it is to say."

----Part 2----

Necromancer: "Kill them! Kill both the heroes!"

Yoritomo: "A classic example of how easy it is to say."

After saying it off in a leisurely manner, Yoritomo-sama calls out to everyone.

Yoritomo: "Now, it's time to fight back."

Yoritomo: "I am proud of your tenacity in fighting your way to this point."

Yoritomo: "You have kept the hope alive."

The eyes of the soldiers burn and they exert their last strength.

Soldiers: "YYAAAYYYY!!!"

They all stepped towards the corpses and swung their swords gruffly.

I hide behind everyone to stay out of the way as much as possible and watch with bated breath.

(No one die, please...)

Escort 2: "Dear god....we're almost there!"

Yoshitsune: "Pray to something more reliable than god."

Yoshitsune: "If you're a samurai, then have faith in your sword."

True to his word, the moment Yoshitsune-sama's sword was unseathed, he pounced under the moonlight.

The next thing I see is the corpses screaming and turning into ash.

(Such overwhelming strength...)

The soldiers followed, pulled by the indescribable aura.

Necromancer: "Kill Yoshitsune first!"

The necromancer shouts and the corpses rush towards Yoshitsune.

(...The corpses don't hesitate because they have no fear of dying. I didn't realize how horrible it was)

Countless hands try to entangle themselves in the arms and legs of Yoshitsune.

Yoshitsune: "....."

Several corpses grabbed his sword and Yoshitsune-sama stopped moving.

Yoshino: "No!"

Yoritomo: "----Yoshitsune!"

Yoshitsune: "....! Ah...."

(Ah)

Yoritomo-sama threw a sword at Yoshitsune-sama, who caught it in mid-air.

The corpses are swept to the side in a flowing motion.

(But, Yoritomo-sama!)

Necromancer: "How pitiful. You want to sacrifice yourself in place of your brother?"

Yoritomo: "Well."

Waves of corpses swarmed around the unarmed Yoritomo-sama.

(No....)

Yoshitsune: "....AAAHHHHH-----"

Yoshitsune-sama kicked the ground and slid in front of Yoritomo-sama.

Yoshitsune: "Die!"

(Ah...)

My eyes widened at the sight of what was happening in front of me. Yoshitsune-sama is fighting off the corpses that are swarming around Yoritomo-sama.

Yoshitsune: "He's mine. Don't you dare touch my prey."

Yoritomo: "..Haa. Don't look so deadly. Your men will have nightmares."

Yoritomo-sama instead picked up Yoshitsune-sama's sword.

He slashed the corpses that was about to attack Yoshitsune-sama from the side.

Yoshitsune: "Have you lost your mind?"

Yoritomo: "Hm?"

Yoshitsune: "What were you trying to prove by throwing your weapon away?"

Yoritomo-sama accepted the shooting glances with aplomb.

Yoritomo: "You saved me, anyways."

Yoshitsune: "What if I chose not to? Or what if I didn't make it in time?"

Yoritomo: "Shut up. Of course I knew you would make it in time."

Yoshitsune: "............"

Yoritomo: "Be cautious of your surroundings, Yoshitsune."

With trememdous speed, the two men cut down the corpses while.

Before they knew it, they were back to back, as if it had been natural from the start that this would happen.

Yoritomo: "But you'll still do whatever you want no matter what I say, right?"

(Is he asking to...'trust him', right?)

Yoshitsune: "----Then."

(Yoshitsune-sama's eyes have changed)

Yoshitsune: "From here on, I'll do whatever I want. I'm don't want to here your complaints."

----Part 3----

Yoshitsune: "From here on, I'll do whatever I want. I'm don't want to here your complaints."

Yoritomo: "Suit yourself."

Yoritomo: "Actually no. Wait. Hold back a little, or it's gonna be a pain."

Yoshitsune: "---Can't hear you."

Necromancer: "What the hell are you two doing!?"

Necromancer: "You two hate each other. Then why are you two fighting together?"

Yoritomo: 'That's a complicated story to say right now."

Yoshitsune: "If we meet in the Underworld one day, I hope you will tell me what it was like to die for the second time."

Yoritomo-sama and Yoshitsune-sama's sword tips flip and step in simultaneously from both sides.

The next moment, before the corpses that Yoritomo-sama destroyed, were reduced to ashes.

Using his crumbling shoulders as a springboard, Yoshitsune-sama leapt high into the air.

Necromancer: "AH...!"

Yoshitsune-sama's sword pierces deep into the Necromancer's chest.

The swarm of corpses that rushed in fell before Yoritomo-sama's white blade and could not reach Yoshitsune-sama.

Necromancer: "No, I..."

The necromancer's body slowly returns to ashes.

And disappeared into the blowing wind.

With the destruction of the necromancer, the day's fighting came to a complete halt.

.............

(I'm so glad, it's over....)

At midnight, when the moon was high in the sky, we pulled back to the encampment.

After the soldiers have disbanded, I joined Yoritomo-sama and Yoshitsune-sama in a bonfire.

(I'm a little worried about their heroes power going out of control)

Yoshino: "Once again...thank you for saving us."

Yoritomo: "No, we were late in finding out his plan and you have to go through all that."

Yoshitsune: "If Yoshino had been injured, I don't know what would have happened to me."

The two men removed their magical earrings and went back to normal.

Yoshino: "But still, I never thought you two would come and fight together...it was like a dream."

Yoritomo and Yoshitsune: "........."

They looked at each other as if to say something and then looked away.

(Awkward...)

(When they were fighting together earlier, it felt like their hearts connected)

(If only you two could talk a little more about it now that the aftermath of the co-operative fight is still fresh in your minds....)

Yoshitsune: "...I have to go."

Yoritomo: "...Ah yes, Yoshino, I'll send you to your tent."

Yoshino: "Wait!"

I stopped both of them immediately.

Yoshitsune: "What is it?"

(Um)

-----Options-----

There's this thing....(Yoritomo +4/ Yoshitsune +2)

Aren't you hungry? (Yoshitsune + 4/ Yoritomo +2)

---------

Yoshino: "Aren't you hungry?"

Yoshitsune: "...Don't worry, I learned how to make rice balls. This time I'll make them myself."

(Okay, no more excuses this time!)

Yoshino: "No no. Actually, I don't feel very well."

Yoshino: "So can the three of us...spend time together? Just a little longer."

Yoshino: "Of course I want you guys to rest, if you're feeling tired..."

Yoritomo: "....Yoshino."

Yoshitsune: "Why?"

Yoshitsune: "If you're concerned about my powers going out of control, then don't worry. I'm fine."

Yoshitsune: "Now that I know, how it's gonna happen, I'll call you soon as I feel any discomfort."

(Instantly rejected...)

Yoshino: "No...Actually, I'm scared."

Yoshino: "I'm sorry, but I want both of you to be with me."

When I said that aloud, I realized that I actually felt that way.

Yoritomo: "......"

Yoritomo: "It's rare to see you begging so cutely like that. So I'll stay."

Yoshitsune: ".........I don't mind either."

(....! Thank god)

Yoshino: "Thank you both of you."

Yoshitsune: "But I'm not confident I can have a conversation that will lighten your heart."

Yoshitsune: "Sorry for being so boring."

Yoshino: "That's fine....all I want you two is to speak your heart out."

Yoritomo: "What if all you think about are random stupid thoughts that will make you look dumb, then?"

Yoshino: "That's fine too."

Yoritomo: "Nonesense. I'm embarrassed to have such a lame conversation."

(It's probably Yoritomo-sama's concern to put us in a joking mood)

I have been saved by this far-reaching kindness many times in my time as a member of the SHogunate.

Yoshitsune: ".....It's hard."

----Part 4----

Yoshitsune: ".....It's hard."

Yoshino: "Hard? Why?"

Yoshitsune-sama sinks into thoughts, hesitating to put them into words.

I waited for a while for him to continue.

(Yoshitsune-sama is a honest man)

(He takes what I say and tries to respond in such an honest way)

Yoshitsune: "I'm angry with myself."

Yoshino: "eh?"

Yoshitsune: "Yoshino, I put you in danger."

Yoshitsune: "And yet---I was in the height of battle when I defeated the necromancer."

Yoshino: "Eh?"

Yoritomo: "I don't know."

Yoritomo-sama opens his mouth quietly staring at the bonfire.

Yoritomo: "As far as I know---Yoshitsune, fighting is your one true love."

Yoritomo: "Now that we've rescued Yoshino, what do we need to worry about?"

Yoshitsune: "I."

Yoshitsune: "Yoritomo, once when I was trying to kill you, I was drowning in anger and hatred, not elation."

Yoritomo: "That's exactly what you're doing now."

Yoshitsune: "Another reason I can't forgive myself is that, of all people, I lost myself in this fight with you."

Yoritomo: "......"

(Yoshitsune-sama is trying to convey something---)

I knew that, so I kept my mouth shut.

Yoshitsune: "When our backs were together and when we were wielding swords..."

Yoshitsune: "I knew exactly what you were thinking and how you were going to act and it was palpable to me."

Yoritomo: "...I was annoyed by your messed up moves, that's all."

Yoshitsune: "Don't lie."

Yoritomo-sama's eyes widened as if Yoshitsune-sama caught his lie.

Yoshitsune: "There was no hesitation in your movements. Because you saw my heart in the same way."

Yoritomo: "........"

Yoshitsune: "Why?"

Yoshitsune-sama grits his teeth sadly.

Yoshitsune: "You have no shred of interest in me, except as a potential enemy."

Yoritomo-sama sighed softly and looked at me.

Yoritomo: "Yoshino, you told us last night to be honest with each other, right?"

Yoshino: ".....! Yes."

Yoritomo: "You said that I have to say my thoughts even if they are silly, right?"

Yoshino: "----Yes!"

Yoritomo: "Okay."

Yoshitsune: "....? What are you saying?"

Yoritomo: "Yoshitsune."

Yoshitsune: "What?"

When his name is called with a straight face, Yoshitsune-sama braces himself."

Yoritomo: "You idiot."

Yoshitsune: "!?"

(What!?)

Yoritomo: "You flat-faced."

Yoshitsune: Wha-Huh?"

Yoritomo: "You oversensitive dumbass."

Without caring Yoshitsune-sama angry red face, Yoritomo-sama continued making fun of Yoshitsune-sama.

Yoshitsune: "You, you....you black-hearted man."

Yoritomo: "You airhead."

Yoshitsune: "....You evil."

Yoritomo: "You troublesome baby."

Yoshitsune: "What the hell are you trying to get at?'

(They are arguing like children. Like two young siblings having a fight....)

Yoritomo: "Aww, did the oversensitive problematic baby, run out of swear?"

Yoshitsune-sama bit his lip.

Yoshitsune: ".....You rationalist, wearing a mask of an ideal shogun."

Yoritomo: "So what, Mr. Idealist?"

Yoritomo: "If idealism could save people, I will retire being a Shogun tomorrow."

Yoshitsune: "I suggest you start going around handing out bribery today so you don't get shot in the dark as soon as you retire and lose power."

An invisible spark flashed between their eyes.

Yoshitsune: "----You cold-hearted man."

Yoritomo: "I know."

Yoritomo: "But, what do you know about me?'

Yoshitsune: "......How should I know? You never say anything to me."

Yoshitsune-sama punches Yoritomo-sama's chest, but is was a powerless one.

Yoshitsune: "You abandoned me."

Yoritomo: "Yes."

(....Maybe, Yoritomo-sama wanted to extract his true feelings from Yoshitsune-sama)

Yoshitsune-sama voice was also shaking.

Yoshitsune: "I respected you. I really wanted to support you!"

Yoritomo: "I know."

Yoshitsune: "I hate you."

Yoritomo: "Oh yeah, but I never hated you though."

----Part 5----

Yoshitsune: "I hate you."

Yoritomo: "Oh yeah, but I never hated you though."

Yoshitsune: "....Mm."

Yoshitsune: "Don't say that now---"

(Yoshitsune-sama, Yoritomo-sama...)

----As long as there are non-negotiable convictions, the tragic past cannot be changed, no matter how many times it is repeated.

But no one knows the future.

Yoshitsune: "....I'm the only one who can hunt you down other than death."

Yoshitsune: "Until then, I'll protect your back."

Yoshitsune: ".....For now."

(....! That's)

Yoritomo: "----Yoshitsune."

Yoritomo-sama's eyes widened.

Then he smiled softly.

Yoritomo: "You're a hundred years too early."

Yoritomo: "Usually, it's the big brother, who protects his little brother."

Yoshitsune: "...."

(Ahh....finally)

(They both finally confessed)

I can feel the back of my eyes getting hot.

Yoritomo: "I'm going to be having a hard time protecting your back. So hold back a little bit, you daredevil."

Yoshitsune: "I don't need unnecessary care from my...."

Yoritomo: ".....?"

(What's wrong?)

Yoshitsune: "My..my..."

Yoshitsune: "My god, it looks likes it's going to rain."

Yoritomo: "The sky is clear."

Yoshitsune: "It's in my heart."

Yoritomo: "What's wrong? Did you get so emotional?"

Yoshitsune: "Stop making fun of me...bro..ther..."

Yoritomo: "....!"

(He just called 'brother'...)

Even Yoritomo-sama looked speechless for a moment----

Yoritomo: "Heh, did you just call me, brother?"

Yoshitsune: ".......yes."

Yoritomo: "Hehe. Guess I was right. You are getting emotional."

Yoritomo-sama smiles gently.

Yoshitsune-sama gripped his fingertips restlessly.

(This is such a huge development)

(Because if these two fight to protect each other, there's nothing to be afraid of)

Yoritomo: "Yoshino, why are you crying?"

Yoshino: "Ah...sorry, I'm just happy for you two."

When I was about to wipe the corners of my eyes in a hurry, Yoshitsune-sama grabbed my hand.

(Eh?)

Yoshitsune: "Your eyes will turn red if you rub too much."

He looks into my eyes seriously and I forget to blink.

This caused one drop that could not be contained to drop.

Yoshitsune: "---You're beautiful."

Yoshino: "...Mm."

Yoshitsune: "Maybe it's because I think these tears are for us."

Yoshino: "Yoshitsune-sama."

Yoritomo: "Yoshitsune....you always make moves on Yoshino when you get a chance, don't you?"

Yoshitsune: "...!"

Yoshitsune: "I just wanted to convey what I think----"

Yoritomo-sama shrugged.

Yoritomo: "Then be clear when you show gratitude. Yoshino might misunderstand."

Yoshitsune: "....."

Yoritomo: "In my case, I purposely make her misunderstand me."

(What do you mean!?)

Yoshitsune: ".....I get it."

Yoshino: "Eh."

Yoshitsune-sama took my hand and stared into my face.

Then quietly kissed the back of my palm....

(Ah....)

A low fever spread from there.

Yoshitsune: "Yoshino, thank you."

Yoshitsune: "Without you, I would never have thought of making up with Yoritomo."

Yoitomo: "...There he goes again."

Yoshitsune: "I don't know what you're talking about."

Yoshitsune-sama suddenly looked away.

Yoshino: "Um....anyway."

Yoshino: "I should be the one thanking you!"

The stares directed at me from both of them were strangely embarrassing and it made me want to flee the scene.

Yoritomo: "---It's time for you to go to bed."

Yoshino: "Ah...that's right."

Just as the three of us were about to go...

Yoritomo: "Nn..."

Yoritomo-sama gave out a faint sound and stopped.

Yoritomo: "---This is."

Yoshitsune: "....! Maybe his powers are going out of control?"

(Oh god! We have to stop this now!)

Yoritomo: "......Ah, but it doesn't seem as serious as yours."

Yoritomo: "Yoshino, can I ask you to help me?"

Yoshino: "Of course."

Just then Yoshitsune-sama turned to look at the both of us.

Yoshitsune: "....Wait. Yoshino, are going to do the same thing you did to me, to my brother?"

[ireceived-p8250000]

October 6-12, 2013

Sunday:

I attended Krissy's daughter's christening, brought gifts, and handed over some money. Afterward, I went home early, preferring not to hang out with the crowd.

Monday:

Classes were engaging. Computer Science was especially fun. The school paper came out today and featured a candid photo of me, which felt a bit odd.

In experimental psychology, we designed another experiment focused on correlation and divided the roles among the group. Philosophy class was interesting, though the professor seemed stuck in the late 90s, trying too hard to be cool. I kept my reactions deadpan and bantered with him a bit.

After classes, I had a meeting with the officers about an upcoming seminar arranged by Ma'am Gladys, Mansoor's boss. Later, I went to the gym and learned hand and foot strokes, which left me feeling both exhausted and accomplished.

Tuesday:

I deposited my money into another account, feeling more financially secure than ever. I even considered buying new shoes for Dad. Abnormal Psychology class was engaging, though Mansoor was absent again. We finally got our copy of the DSM-5, which was exciting but a bit dull to go through.

In history class with Sir Apollo, his intense stares made me uncomfortable yet intrigued. After class, Myla and I chatted about lipstick, and Sir Apollo watched us with a smirk.

I waited in the SAO with Mansoor and Vivian for my Ecology class. After class, Mansoor and I walked together. Robbie seemed to have an inkling about our relationship, but I brushed it off as just being friends.

We detoured to the Rose Garden and stopped at Mother Earth convenience store to buy expensive chocolate for my dad. We shared a piece and kissed, trying to keep it discreet.

Mansoor asked about my past kisses, which brought back a flood of memories, including Sir Apollo. I admitted he was my fourth kiss. Despite feeling slightly uneasy, Mansoor was understanding and we kissed again.

"How many guys have you kissed?" he asked.

Suddenly, all those flashbacks of guys I kissed flashed in my mind, including Sir Apollo. I didn't answer. I swallowed, and I think he heard that.

"Hindi ako magagalit. It's not a big deal."

"Well, uh... you're the fourth."

"Akala ko isa lang naging boyfriend mo?"

"Yes, the second one was from a club I went to once and the third was... same."

"Teka, ito ba yung sa Ampersand?"

I nodded slowly. "I was drunk and caught off guard. It didn't mean anything. Tsaka di pa tayo noon."

He nodded with no judgment whatsoever. He tilted his head for a kiss again.

"Your lips are so sweet," he said.

I gave the chocolate to Dad when I got home and asked what he wanted for his birthday because I had money now.

"Dad, do you want new shoes? What do you want?"

"I want a massage."

I asked if it was possible. Mama said it was okay. So I decided to treat them to a spa. I asked Roxanne to help me out. She suggested some options.

Wednesday:

Our experiment progressed well, leaving me tired but fulfilled.

Thursday:

In Abnormal Psychology, Mansoor attended, and we participated in a role-playing session. Other classes involved more role-playing and cultural presentations. The day was packed with activities, leaving me little time to think about my interactions with Sir Apollo.

Roxanne suggested a spa for my parents, and I had to create a Facebook poster for an assignment, which took two hours. After Ecology class, Mansoor waited for me again, and Robbie questioned our frequent meetings. I insisted we were just hanging out.

At home, I talked to Roxanne about Sunday plans. Mansoor called, and I kicked Roxanne out to talk privately. Our conversation mostly centered on politics, including the recent Zamboanga siege and the pork barrel scam.

Friday:

Friday was chaotic. In Philosophy, Djang and April teased me, hinting at my relationship with Mansoor. During lunch, they pressured me to admit it. Rumors were spreading, and Robbie had apparently seen us holding hands.

"Umamin ka na kasi, pinagpapawisan ka oh!" Djang said.

"Alam na namin, may mga nakakakita sa inyo!" Sarah added.

"How?" I asked.

"Naghoholding hands!"

"Pics or didn't happen!" I demanded.

"Nakita kayo ni Robbie!"

This interaction was during lunch. I still denied it.

They kept on asking and pressuring me.

We had our experiment reporting. I told Mansoor about it and he said to just come out in the open. I still said no out of principle.

I didn't know but he seemed pissed slightly.

"I don't like hiding it anymore."

"I don't like hiding it too, but I don't want to pay the amount I said I'd pay."

"Is it a very big amount?"

"For me, yes. I mean, I can earn that in a week, but just giving it away?"

He tilted his head back. "BUT IF there was no agreement... I mean, yun lang ba ang reason kaya ayaw mo that we'll be out?"

"Yes! If it wasn't that stupid agreement, I'd hold your hands in front of them. I'd tell everyone you are my boyfriend. I want to post stupid photos of us online. I want them to see us almost hugging."

He just nodded.

Saturday:

Saturday arrived and it was Abnormal Psych class again, and he was absent. We met up with groupmates for the cultural dance project.

In the afternoon, we had economics activities and a bit of math. Then off to history class. My heart still jumps out when I see Sir Apollo. We had an essay activity, so it was a bit quiet. During the discussion, he shared anecdotes of his childhood.

Djang texted me saying, "Alam na namin. Don't worry about the ₱700 basta happy kayong dalawa."

I sent a question mark.

"Wag na kayo magtago!" she replied.

Sir Apollo was winking and saying something, smiling. I ignored him because I had more pressing matters. Roxanne texted me about tomorrow and where to eat, so I told her to just plan that.

I looked for Djang and found her with Hollmae and the others.

"What do you mean?" I widened my eyes.

"Sus, okay lang. Pinunit ko na contract natin oh." Djang said, but I looked at April, Sheryl, and Mia. They weren't saying the truth.

"So how did you know?"

"So kayo mga?" We had to go to a corner to talk.

"Sinabi mo?" I asked Hollmae.

"Hindi! Ewan ko!" She got scared.

"Oh so kayo nga!" Sarah exploded with a laugh.

"Oo na! Walang singilan ah."

"Uhh actually," Rox was vacillating.

"I knew it, you girls are hiding something."

Djang fished out a pocket of hundreds.

"Kinausap ako ni Kuya Mansoor kanina."

Turns out, my boyfriend paid for that penalty so I would still have the integrity of keeping the promise. He knew how important it was for me to keep my word. He told Djang not to tell me, but the girls felt guilty about it.

I took the money and was going to keep it.

"Hoy!" they all interjected.

"Bakit, sa boyfriend ko to eh!"

"Ibalik mo yan, gashunh," they laughed.

"No, it's mine now."

"Evil stepmother ka talaga," Djang joked.

After Ecology class, Mansoor picked me up. It was a relief that I didn't have to lie or hide. It was still the same, no touchy-feely, no corny carrying your bag. We just went. We passed by the SAO first and they smiled at me. Apparently, he already told them who I was—his girlfriend.

We walked out and held hands. It was pure joy that I could hold his hand in front of the University.

"Happy?" he asked.

"I know what you did." His face ashened. I fished out the bills and gave it to him.

"Ano ginawa mo?"

"Naguoltu din sila. I made them squeak. Thank you. I didn't know you were like this. Thank you. You're just so different."

"Well, sa savings account ko yan eh. But binawi mo."

He took it.

"Alam mo, we should get them some treats."

"Good idea."

"Manlibre ka naman," I joked.

"No, I need to buy a new phone." He answered while I laughed.

I rested my head on his shoulder and hugged his arm.

"Kiss me," I told him. And he did. We were still at the vicinity of the University. I didn't care who saw it.

I posted our photos on Twitter and only Djang and him could see it. But then I decided to create an album of him titled ❤️M72713❤️. It's just all his photos.

By the way, my vibrator finally arrived.

[aflyingcontradiction]

The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 186 - Quiet

Martin II: Because it makes the sadness feel at home. It turns it from a burden into... Martin I: ... an indulgence.

I think I can sort of relate. This isn't something that happens to me a lot, but it is definitely a slightly familiar thought process.

Martin: Because you want to stay. Because you want to have a real rest. To just breathe and … be quietly sad, I guess.

It's true. The poor bastard has just been RUNNING (metaphorically, though sometimes literally) since the apocalypse, if you don't count the brief stint at Salesa's and even there he didn't really get to be by himself enough to digest any of it. I mean, Martin goes on to argue that it wouldn't be healthy but to be honest, wouldn't it??? At least for a moment??

Martin: But we both know that loved ones make the worst therapists. They’re too wrapped up in trying to stop you hurting to actually help. But hey, we know all about that, am I right?

I think I've got that issue from the loved one's side (that is, I'm the one often too wrapped up in trying to be comforting to really help). But then, I have always said that Martin is painfully relatable to me.

Martin II: It wasn’t your fault. Martin I: Yes, it was. Martin II: That’s just the guilt talking. (...) Martin II: She was awful. Martin I: She wasn’t well. Martin II: Both things can be true. Martin I: She was still my mum! Our mum. Whatever! Martin II: And we’re glad she’s dead.

At first I thought the "Martin literally talking to himself" thing was a little hokey, but this is actually a very nice way of presenting the torn emotional landscape that is Martin's feelings about his mother.

Martin II: Because you feel guilty about everything.

If I remember correctly my partner gave me a very significant look when we were listening to this together for the first time. Martin really is uncomfortably relatable at times.

Martin I: I choose the guilt, because (...) Because it motivates me to do better!

I am beginning to feel a little uncomfortably seen here...

Martin II: It’s this, this fantasy that you have, that whatever you find at the top of the Panopticon is just going to solve everything.

Being called out by YOURSELF for your bullshit has got to smart a bit.

Martin II: I can’t tell you their names, because we don’t know them.

Hey, you literally just told us one of them is named Tim! Which one is it??

She wasn’t talking, wasn’t engaged with any of the bright and happy people. Her smile was fixed and deliberate, and it didn’t quite match her eyes. She was among this joy, yes, these sparkling friends, but she was not a part of it, not really. She tried to be, wanted so desperately to be a part of their easy warmth, and maybe they thought she was. But they hadn’t known her, not really. They hadn’t seen the empty ice that filled her, that kept her apart from them, that she desperately tried to thaw with each and every friendly face that smiled at her.

Yeah, been there, done that...

If they should stumble upon an old photograph, some half-remembered birthday party that still brings up a smile, and then see her face, sat there amongst the revellers, they will frown, just for a moment, as they try to remember her name. Then they will shrug, and forget they were even curious. They will not think to wonder about her.

It does seem like every single Lonely episode conjures up at least one scene or concept that is an absolute nightmare scenario for me. Cf. THIS SHIT!

My impression of this episode

This is a very quiet episode (does what it says on the tin, I suppose!) but also a very good one. Martin's "self-analysis" is rather poignant in parts (and perhaps hits a little close to home at times, as Martin-centric episodes apparently tend to do for me). I also find this expression of the Lonely rather fascinating (and again, personally hard-hitting), but the Martin-Martin conversation is definitely the highlight of this episode.

[diariesofapisces]

All The Things I Would Say To Him.

I am a very confrontational person. I don't like the mystery of not knowing how someone feels about me and I feel like it's an injustice when someone doesn't know how I feel about them. However, in this situation, I desperately need to let go. Of both of them. The whole situation. While I feel wronged, I can no longer stoop to that level. I need to let go of him without confronting or thinking about it. It angers me that he thinks we are cool, and that we are still friends. I guess I need validation for my pain, especially from him. Does my pain even matter if no one even fucking knows? I clearly seek validation way too much. I need to find closure within myself. I think this is something me and a therapist need to work out. If I talk about my pain with either of them they will see a side of me they don't need to see. It's not worth my time or energy because I really don't care about either of them. This is my new platform to "tell" him how I feel. By the way, this is going to be super cringe because I am about to play out a conversation but I fucking need this so stfu.

I am sitting outside of Starbucks doing homework and while I am working on my computer he says hi. I say hi back and we engage in a dry-ass conversation that clearly is making him overthink. he decides to sit down at the chair next to me, but he makes sure to pull it away to make space between us. As he sits down he decides to ask if he can talk to me and that grabs my attention. I look at him slightly surprised as though I never wanted this. He begins by saying that he feels like things have been weird between us. I act somewhat surprised that he said that but deep down I have been dying for him to say this. Nonchalantly I ask why. He explains why he feels that way as I hungrily wait for him to stop talking. Then I lay it on him. I'll start with the fact that we only hung out before because of our mutual friendships and now that they are over it's not very convenient for him. I will also say that it is a little bit weird for me to be friends when he is so close to her. He'll ask something along the lines of what happened between you and her or maybe he'll ask why that matters. Then I'll ask "Do you know why me and her stopped being friends?". He might say I don't know or give some stupid reason and then I'll say it was because of him. I'll explain that she was threatened by my friendship with him. He will probably ask why and that's when I'll say that she still likes him. She likes him so much that she did everything she could to stop me from pursuing a romantic relationship even though I never stated that I wanted that. I'll explain all the ways she has hurt me and he will either look at me empathically or he will be irritated, maybe both. The point is not a single thing will change whether or not we have that conversation. He won't change and actually seem like he wants anything from me and even if he tries it will feel too weird for me. Saying any of this to him will create even more uncomfortable feelings between us. Let's be so real the only reason I want this conversation is to keep his attention and validate my feelings, and that high won't even last long. I don't want him in my life period. I don't want to run into him and try to make him think something is wrong or that everything is cool. I don't want to "punish" him and I don't want to go out of my way to see him. I don't want to ever see his name pop up on my phone. I don't want him to be invited to anything. I don't want to run into him and talk. I don't want to see him at school events. I don't ever want to see him or talk to him. I need to fucking let go. I was wronged by both him and her but it was a product of their own inescapable pain. I know what that's like and it's torture. The difference between me and them is that I am getting to know my pain and I doing things to change it. I need to get rid of the itch I have to get "justice" for myself. I have never learned how to let things go instead of bottling my resentment and anger. To get something you've never had you have to do something you've never done. I have tasted it a little bit recently but actually not giving a fuck is a blissful feeling and is so freeing.

[findingtheperfectcharacter]

Tw Bullying, ableism

OKAY SO-

First things first: Vriska. Because the idea that he’s into her is so taken for granted that the worst takes about him are built from that assumption. Now on a basic level for their dynamic: she just straight up bullies and harasses him and he… Doesn’t even ‘just take it’ but CAN’T fight back because in 99 percent of the scenarios they’re in she’s in a position of insane power over him. Literally he’s not even that bad at standing up to her, there’s an entire separate post about how he’s not afraid to tell her ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or call for help, but is still characterized as weak because his disability is… Actually occasionally debilitating and not ‘I’m blind but my sense of smell and taste is so strong that it’s honestly hard to think of a time where it’s inconvenient.’ And ‘I have perfect control over my arm prosthetic and it equally never causes problems and in fact mostly just adds to the pirate aesthetic.’ Tangent over until another post-

At any rate, the kindest take for her is she’s ♠️’s flirting with him and he… Never reciprocates. Karkat suggests he’s not even capable of blackrom- but at any rate, Tav‘s reaction to her doesn’t really show a hate-love desire. He never even actually insults her and frankly tries hard to remain on her good side

Okay, so it’s unlikely he feels ♠️, and frankly this has to do more with Vriska being the fucking worst always than it does with whether he’s attracted to women.

So here’s where we get to That scene. I’m not going to say much about it because it’s… Just Vriska breaking his physical than mental autonomy. The entire time Tavros’s reaction is fear and confusion because of course it. His reaction to being assaulted being to ‘not like it’ doesn’t tell us much…

It’s his apology that kind of made me think of this whole thing though. (Other than… Just a lot of spite towards a certain hc)

I think it’s… Notable that he never says HE wants to kiss her or wishes he had. When she says ‘You don’t feel that way about me, it’s fine.’ He doesn’t say he does. And it’d be easy to say that it’s because of his cowardice, because he’s afraid to tell her even after she admits her feelings, but than you read what he actually says to Karkat. He’s not saying that he wants to try again or anything that would even suggest that he feels that way about her. Just that he thinks not kissing her back- slightly turning her down- might have hurt her feelings and he feels bad that he might have hurt her.

AND THEN THERE ARE THE BIGGEST THINGS OF THIS: The Goddamn Midnight Crew (or at least Hearts Boxcars) because OH BOY!

So here’s the thing that if I thought it was intentional I’d call fridge brilliance. The setup for the exiles are voices that talk to the MCs in their heads to try to influence what they do and how they play the game. There’s a conversation with Terezi where Dave’s super discombobulated by Bro’s death and just ends up repeating what AR says even though it’s very weird for him personally.

Now, Tavros’s exile is Hearts Boxcars and he’s WEIRDLY invested in this relationship. And he is yelling at Tavros to kiss Vriska

So post… The Scene Tavros is being yelled at by an aggressive man in his head for not being man enough to engage in a relationship he doesn’t want and associates his masculinity and strength with being able and willing to engage with such a relationship. (It’s also threatening him.) This is your brain on toxic masculinity and allonormality/homophobia. Not only does he not seem to want to kiss her without being pushed into it but the voice clearly makes him nervous and uncomfortable more than anything

Hearts telling him to kiss Vriska is NEVER something that comes from ‘wanting to kiss someone because you’re interested in them.’ It comes from ‘you’re a man. Kiss her, you’re a pathetic wimp if you don’t.’

“Okay so we’ve established that the closest moments he gets to showing a desire to be in a relationship with Vriska are textually an external voice egging him and yelling at him to do it while insulting him and subtextually can be read as a metaphor for some of the more toxic aspects of masculinity and the idea of what a man should be. What about Jade?”

Jade’s interesting because it’s the closest we get to Tavros actually pursuing a romantic relationship and might suggest that even if he’s not attracted to Vriska, he could be attracted to other women. And we could go that route… But.

You know how I said that Tavros is influenced by the ideas of ‘what a man should be?’ I think that’s a more accurate picture of what happened there.

He’s got legs! He’s a hero now and not someone sleeping most of the day because he’s deeply depressed or the guy using fantasy as a coping mechanism! He can BE that fantasy for real! Shit what do heroes do? Well, they’re bold and save the lives of girls and-

… Jade’s one of two girls who’s sincerely nice to him so she has to be the girl he’s supposed to be with!

Granted, there’s other ways to read this. Like, it’d be really easy to see this as him ‘nice guying’ if you read his confusion on confidence and how relationships work as more insidious or insincere than I do. If you read his feelings towards Jade as 100 percent a crush he knows is a crush and is based on some level of knowing and liking her dreamself, than it could just be him not being into one girl and that not defining his entire romantic or sexual interest.

But idk… There’s something there.

Me: You know I could probably make an argument that Tavros isn’t attracted to women.

*Rereads a few sections*: … I could make a REALLY good argument Tavros isn’t attracted to women