#it really means a lot to ME that you care about him so much

[unpopularly-opinionated]

Almost every week, for the last maybe 2-2 1/2 years or so, I (27) have been going out to different bars with the same group of people, all of whom are at least twice my age or more and I honestly couldn’t recommend it more for younger people.

I mean to get the bad aspects out of the way upfront, I did (and sometimes still do) have a minor insecurity about being the “annoying child of someone in the group that everyone has to pretend to tolerate”. My stepdad is the one who initiated the hangouts originally, and I initially was just tagging along for free food and booze. No one’s ever done anything to make me feel that way mind you, they are always SUPER accommodating, almost too much sometimes. Sometimes they’ll straight up change topics if they’ve noticed I checked out because I wasn’t interested in what they were talking about. It’s just my own irrational insecurity that crops up from time to time. I also struggle sometimes with explaining this friendship to other people, often referring to them as “my stepdad’s friends” even though we’ve been out together so many times that I could and should very reasonably consider them my friends too. Again, this is a me thing, nothing against them.

We started out doing it with a purpose, we were doing bar trivia every week and having a blast. But over time, we grew kinda bored of the trivia, the format kinda changed, and it started pretty late into the evening, and we ultimately just realized that we actually were just cool hanging out and chatting without needing to have an excuse to be there.

But being the youngest among them, I just find them very interesting to talk to. They’re always talking about their jobs, the good, the bad, and the ugly of them all. Most of them are managers of several people, and they’re the type of managers who care more about their employees than the businesses, so I always feel like I’m hearing a fair assessment of whether an employee is being completely insane, or if the company is screwing them over somehow, or what not. And just how the working world works from their perspective. Not to mention how they got to where they’re at. One went to college and has a masters, one went to college but dropped out and taught himself to code, another just worked his way up from the bottom to the top (yes, they all work in the tech industry lol).

This isn’t even mentioning the fact that my grandfather is there with us as well, and he’s retired now but he had been an electrician for 60+ years prior, and being the oldest of our group, he has like a whole extra generation’s worth of experience to add to the mix too. It’s really great because it kind of adds that extra layer that makes me feel more comfortable in the group (like yeah, I’m the clueless youth compared to most of these guys, but they’re all youths to him too).

I can’t really explain it too well, but I feel like I just absorb life experience by hanging out with this group of people. It’s not all just work talk either, they talk about their personal hobbies, trips they’ve been on or are going on, their kids, food, alcohol, sports, politics, lots of politics, social media nonsense, etc. No one ever gets worked up over things, even when talking politics.

TL;DR: I recommend befriending people much older than yourself. It’s not creepy or weird, and you could learn a lot, even if you might not think so. Just sitting there and absorbing it all I think would benefit a lot of younger people.

I need you people to realize that you can be friends with people older than you. like, much older than you. like, decades older than you. you can be friends with these people. regular friends, just like anyone your age. it is possible.

[little-jana]

"Good Girl"

Pairing: postprison!Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: steamy, 18+, fluff, no smut

Warnings: kissing, Spencer calling reader a good girl

Words: 3.4k

Summary: Spencer giving Reader a lot of compliments and one of them makes her blush a lot.

Spencer had been different since prison. Not entirely in ways the team would notice—he still rattled off statistics, quoted obscure literature, and beat everyone at chess. But when you’d known someone as deeply as I knew Spencer, even subtle shifts felt monumental. He was sharper now, his edges honed by experiences no one should have endured. But when it was just the two of us, in those quiet, stolen moments, he softened.

That’s why I stayed by his side tonight instead of joining the team for drinks. Spencer had waved off the invitation, saying he needed a quiet night, and when I hesitated to leave him alone, he’d asked me to stay. It wasn’t much—a shared meal and a chess game in his small apartment—but to me, it felt like everything.

“I can’t tell if you’re planning your next move or plotting my demise,” Spencer said, leaning back in his chair as he watched me.

“I can do both,” I said lightly, though the truth was, I’d been staring at the board for so long because I had no idea what to do.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You’re stalling.”

“I’m thinking,” I corrected.

“You’ve been ‘thinking’ for six minutes and thirty-two seconds.”

“Are you timing me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but I glanced at the clock when you stopped moving your hand after your last turn.”

“Of course you did,” I muttered, my eyes flicking back to the board. “Not all of us have an IQ of 187, you know.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The soft light from the lamp behind him highlighted the sharp planes of his face, and for a second, I forgot what we were talking about.

“You’re better than you think,” he said, his voice low.

“Better at chess, or better in general?” I quipped, trying to deflect the heat rising in my cheeks.

Spencer didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied me, his hazel eyes unblinking and intent.

“Both,” he said simply.

My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to focus. This was just Spencer being Spencer—kind and honest to a fault. It didn’t mean anything. Not really.

Finally, I made a move, sliding my bishop into place. I looked up at him triumphantly. “Your turn, genius.”

Spencer’s eyes flicked to the board, and he moved his queen with a casual grace that made my stomach sink. “Checkmate,” he said softly.

“What?” I leaned forward, scanning the board. He was right. Of course he was right.

“How?” I groaned, sitting back in my chair. “I was so careful!”

“That was a good game,” he said, his tone genuine. “You lasted longer than usual.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, really,” he insisted. “Your defense has improved. That last move was smart.”

“Then how did I still lose?”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Because I’ve been playing chess since I was four, and you’ve only been playing for—”

“Three months,” I finished for him.

“Exactly,” he said, his smile widening. “But you’re learning fast. Good girl.”

The words hit me like a freight train. My cheeks burned, and I ducked my head, pretending to fiddle with the edge of the table.

“Something wrong?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“No,” I said quickly, my voice higher than usual. “I’m fine.”

“You’re blushing,” he observed, tilting his head.

“I’m not,” I lied, even though I could feel the heat spreading down my neck.

His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” I said weakly, avoiding his gaze.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his tone teasing now.

Desperate to change the subject, I stood and grabbed the empty takeout containers from the coffee table. “I’m going to clean this up.”

Spencer followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I tossed the containers into the trash. His presence was a tangible thing, and I could feel his eyes on me as I wiped down the counter.

“Good,” he said softly.

I turned to face him, confused. “Good what?”

“Good technique,” he said, nodding toward the counter.

My cheeks flamed again. “Are you just saying that to mess with me?”

“No,” he said, his expression softening. “I mean it. You’re good at a lot of things, but you never give yourself credit.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I think you’re overestimating me,” I said quietly.

Spencer stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “No, I’m not,” he said firmly. “You’re smart, capable, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. You’re… amazing.”

My breath caught in my throat. The sincerity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

“Spencer…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine. The touch was so gentle, so careful, it made my chest ache. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

I shook my head slightly. “It’s not that… I just don’t see myself the way you do.”

His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. “You should. Because I’m not wrong.”

The silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken words. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something, and for once, I wasn’t afraid to fall.

“You’re doing it again,” he said softly.

“Doing what?”

“Doubting yourself,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet kind of sadness.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the look on his face stopped me.

“You’re a good girl,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You just don’t know it yet.”

My cheeks burned, and I looked down, unable to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said gently, tilting my chin up with his finger. “Don’t hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding,” I whispered, though the words felt hollow.

“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And you don’t have to.”

Before I could overthink it, I stepped closer, closing the small distance between us. “Spencer…”

“Yes?”

I hesitated, my heart hammering in my chest. But then his eyes softened, and I knew. I knew he would catch me if I fell.

“I want to kiss you,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Spencer's lips curved into a small, surprised smile. “You do?”

I nodded, my cheeks flaming. “Is that… okay?”

His eyes softened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper—something that made my heart race. “It’s more than okay,” he said quietly.

I barely had time to process his words before his hand cupped my cheek, his fingers feather-light against my skin. He was so close now, his breath warm against my lips. For a moment, we just stood there, suspended in time.

And then he kissed me.

The world fell away.

It started soft, tentative—like he was afraid I’d disappear if he moved too quickly. His lips brushed against mine once, twice, each touch careful and reverent. It was everything I hadn’t dared to hope for: tender, consuming, perfect.

But then I leaned in, my fingers clutching at the front of his cardigan, and something shifted. The kiss deepened, and Spencer’s hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His other hand rested lightly on my waist, steadying me as my knees threatened to give out beneath me.

The softness gave way to something bolder, more urgent. His lips moved against mine with a fervor that left me breathless, and I couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped me. Spencer stilled for a fraction of a second, as if startled by the sound, but then his grip tightened ever so slightly, and I was lost all over again.

He tasted like peppermint tea and something uniquely Spencer, and I never wanted it to end.

When we finally pulled apart, I was dizzy, my head spinning in the best way possible. Spencer rested his forehead against mine, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

“That was…” He trailed off, his voice unsteady.

“Amazing,” I finished for him, my voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and intimate in the quiet of his apartment. “Yeah. Amazing.”

My cheeks flushed, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from the way he was looking at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Really?” I asked, my heart swelling at the thought.

He nodded, a small, shy smile playing at his lips. “But I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“Spencer,” I said, shaking my head with a soft laugh. “How could I not? You’re… you.”

His brow furrowed slightly, like he was trying to puzzle out my words. “I’m not always good at recognizing when people care about me,” he said quietly.

“Well, I care,” I said firmly, my hand still clutching the front of his cardigan. “A lot.”

He smiled then, a real, unguarded smile that made my chest ache in the best way. “I care about you too,” he said softly.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken promises, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.

Spencer’s hand slid from my waist to my hand, his fingers curling around mine. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I looked away, flustered. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he said, tugging me closer. “You’re smart, kind, and strong. And you’re a good girl.”

There it was again, the phrase that sent my heart into overdrive. My cheeks burned, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress the shy smile threatening to break free.

“You really like saying that, don’t you?” I teased, though my voice came out softer than I intended.

“Only because it’s true,” he said, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at me—I couldn’t take it. I hid my face in his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his cardigan.

“You’re impossible,” I mumbled against him, though my tone lacked any real heat.

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he replied, his voice filled with gentle amusement.

I tilted my head up to look at him, narrowing my eyes in mock indignation. “You’re lucky I like you.”

His smile widened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m the lucky one.”

---

After we settled onto the couch, Spencer pulled a blanket over us, his arm draped around my shoulders as I rested my head against his chest. The quiet hum of the world outside seemed so far away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Spencer?” I asked softly, my voice breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“This is real, right?” I tilted my head to look up at him, my eyes searching his face for any hint of hesitation.

He glanced down at me, his brows furrowing slightly. “Of course it’s real. Why would you think it’s not?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing. “It just feels… too good to be true.”

Spencer’s hand came up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek. “It’s real,” he said firmly. “I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, focusing instead on the warmth in his gaze. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to my forehead.

And in that moment, with his arms around me and his words echoing in my heart, I believed him.

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader argue about their next steps

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this is a combination of a few asks and takes place pre-OBX season 3. warning for some angst + arguing

Y/n ended her call with her manager Morgan with a sigh. It was a conversation she had been dreading, but she also knew was inevitable with the direction her career (and character on OBX) was moving. She had been dropping hints to Drew that her contract with OBX was ending, that she wanted to move onto some different projects, Caroline’s character arc was coming to a close…

“Hey, baby.” Drew smiled as y/n walked into their living room. He was sprawled out on the couch, his limbs propped on the ottoman and Charleston curled up at his side. Y/n smiled lightly at him, the grin not quite reaching her eyes in a way that made Drew’s brain sound off with bells and whistles.

“Um, I just got off the phone with Morgan,” y/n said quietly, Drew leaning in intently as she spoke, “and I don’t think I’m going to be renewing my contract for OBX.”

Drew’s face dropped, his eyes blinking rapidly as he stared at her in a stunned silence.

“W–what?” Drew said incredulously. Y/n sighed, running a shaking hand through her hair. Whether or not either of them cared to admit it, Outer Banks and shooting together was a big aspect of their relationship. Hell, it was how they met and how they spent months of the year practically inseparable on set.

“I– I just…” y/n swallowed harshly, “I want to try new things and I don’t want to feel tied down to—”

“‘Tied down’? Is that really how you feel?” Drew scoffed, shaking his head at her words.

“Drew, you know I don’t mean it like that.” Y/n sighed, her hand resting on Drew’s tensed shoulder.

“What do you mean, then?” Drew said. “‘Cause I’m trying to understand and it just sounds like you think the show’s a burden and—”

“I didn’t say that.” Y/n said sharply. “I love the show and working with the cast— and working with you— but I just… it’s time for me to move on.”

“But I’m still stuck on this— what, this shitty, teenaged Netflix show? I can’t move on?” Drew shook his head. It was hard to not take it so personally when the show had given them so much, and for her to just leave like that… it hurt.

“This has nothing to do with how I think of you or your acting or career. You know you’re… a lot more important to the show than I am and you have a much more challenging role and—” y/n ran hand down her face with a sigh, “—this is 100% only to do with me and my career and my future.”

“But what about our future?” Drew said. “I just… don’t you think this is going to change things between us?”

“But it doesn’t have to. It doesn’t have to change anything.” Y/n said, taking Drew’s hand. His eyes closed, Drew ran his hand through his hair with a deep sigh.

“This is… this is really what you want?” Drew whispered, his thumb brushing along the back of y/n’s hand lightly.

“I think it’s the right step.” Y/n said quietly. Drew chewed on his bottom lip, mulling over his racing thoughts and questions before his gaze finally lifted to meet y/n’s. She could see a glint of sadness in his eyes, a recognition that the unique bond of the show would be changing.

“I don’t want you to think I didn’t think about us when I was making this decision.” Y/n whispered, squeezing Drew’s hand lightly. Drew nodded, squeezing her hand back.

“If this is what you think is best, then I support you.” Drew said. Y/n let out a sigh of relief, cupping the side of Drew’s face as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel forgotten or—” Y/n began, but Drew cut her off, kissing her forehead chastely.

“I’m sorry for freaking out, it's just… I can’t imagine the show without you and it just scared me to think about it.” Drew said lowly. Y/n frowned, to which Drew shook his head, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. Her arms snaked around his torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles under her fingertips and hearing the thrum of his heart in her ear.

“We’ll figure it out, ok? I love you and we’ll figure it out.” Drew said simply. Y/n, squeeze him tighter.

“I love you. Thank you for supporting me, Drew. Really.” Y/n whispered.

[helen-lucilfer]

some Chrollo things i found/realized on my rewatch + reread of hxh

- he has REALLY bad posture. in the PT base during yorknew, when Chrollo is reading a book, he is literally hunched over and his back is at like a 45 degree angle🥺

- he’s very smug and cocky. after his fight against Zeno and Silva, he asks with a smirk to Zeno “if we were in a fight, who would win, you or me?” and chuckles knowingly when Zeno replies. during Chrollo vs Hisoka, Chrollo says that he is “100% sure that i am going to win”

- his personality switches depending on who he’s with. with the troupe, he’s logical and stoic—never losing his temper. when he’s with Hisoka, he’s much more relaxed and friendly + smiles much more often. when he’s with someone older, he’s respectful.

- he doesn’t seem to mind celebrations/parties. he’s seen drinking with the troupe in a manga panel after the auction.

- he seems very self aware of his handsome appearance, as he lured Neon in + most of the abilities in his book are from women.

- in terms of physical strength, Chrollo is 7th in the Troupe —above Bonolenov, Nobunaga, Shalnark, Pakunoda, Shizuku, and Kortopi, making him MUCH MUCH MUCH stronger than even superhumans such as Gon and Killua. (I love this fact for some reason)

- he had many similarities to Gon and Kurapika as a kid. (read Ch. 395-397, which is the Troupe backstory. it has a lot of cute baby Troupe member scenes🥺)

- he has a habit of covering his mouth with his hand whenever he is thinking deeply about something or connecting the lines.

- he knows a shocking amount about the Kakin Empire (in the manga), even more so than some of the Princes of the Kakin Empire.

- he seems to have a habit of smirking whenever something is going according to plan or when something went according to plan. he also just seems to enjoy smirking in general.

- his favorite color seems to be purple due to much of his outfits being some sort of variation of purple.

- in official arts + mobage cards, he seems to have dark circles under his eyes. in the yorknew city arc, he is also the only troupe member who didn’t sleep during the entire arc, meaning that he seems to have some sort of insomnia.

- in mobage cards, Chrollo seems to have a habit of fidgeting with his clothes. (pulling off his tie during the Christmas mobage card, playing with his hat, etc,.)

- he is very athletic, considering how at the end of yorknew city when he was left nen-less on those plateaus, he managed to climb down and find shelter all by himself.

- he is also very rich, since on average, every Zoldyck assassination costs around 1 billion—Chrollo managed to afford to assassinate the 10 Dons, meaning 10 billion Jenny.

- Chrollo doesn’t seem to care whenever someone is being disrespectful towards him or the troupe.

- Chrollo seems to have a particular fondness for suits, as he is often seen wearing a suit in official arts

- Chrollo often wears clothing that covers much of his body

- Chrollo seems to have the traditional values of a chivalrous man, meaning that he respects women quite a lot and makes sures to keep them safe. Chrollo made sure to catch Neon in the most respectful way when she “fell” (he literally could have just grabbed her by the arm and it would have been fine), he made sure to keep Pakunoda + Machi + Shizuku in the same team during yorknew (there were no men in their team), and during the Chrollo vs Hisoka battle, none of the female spectators (or even the commentator) were harmed.

———

AUGHHHHHH CHROLLO ILYSM PLEASE LIVE UNTIL THE END OF THE SERIES😭🥺😫❤️CHROLLOOOO UR MY BBY AND ILYSMMMMM😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️😫😫😫💕💕💕

[lyricwritesprose]

So I've known Winter since she was a weird little goth egg who borrowed my jewelry, but she's never asked for my expertise as a large animal veterinarian before. Winter doesn't have large animals. Winter has three cats, brothers, named Sauce, High Fructose Corn Syrup, and Bobby. (Bobby is the ginger one.)

So I wasn't sure what was up when she told me to bring my "hoof stuff" and not to tell anyone, but you know, she's my friend. An hour's drive and a little secrecy is nothing.

She met me at the door and escorted me upstairs and into her bedroom, and there was a demon lying on the bed. Red. Horns. Tail. Winter's grandma's quilt over him. Very confused expression.

"He says he hasn't had hoof care for a long time," Winter explained. "Apparently conditions in Pandemonium kind of suck."

Well, that, at least, was straightforward. "Yeah, I'll take a look at them. You owe me an explanation or five."

"Not really much to explain," Winter said apologetically. "I needed help with biochem."

"There are about ten thousand ways that statement does not lead to this situation."

"Oh, come on, like you've never tried to summon a demon to do your homework."

"No, as a matter of fact, I haven't, because that's academic cheating and as a vet, it could be a life or death matter for me to actually know stuff. Also demons aren't—" You can't exactly say demons aren't real with one watching you. "Necessarily any better at biochem than I am. So you tried some spell and—oh. Ouch. Yeah, that's a gnarly looking hoof, you're going to need some treatment on that. Looks like maybe you haven't been walking around much?" That was to the demon. "Because the edges should wear down if you have proper room to move."

"I don't." His voice was softer than I expected. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Hoof trim," I said, "first of all. Have you had anything to eat? Do you need anything to eat?"

"I ordered door dash from the Indian place half an hour ago," Winter said. "Should be any minute. It's the only decent vegetarian place around here and I really don't want to deal with the whole question of which critters are acceptable to eat across cultural differences, so—yeah. See, the problem is, Asgrvanisaghl has been through a lot since some asshole 'higher demon' put his name in a grimoire, which means that we've got to find a way to block summonings as necessary or at least keep him from getting controlled when they happen."

"I don't do magic," I said, laying out my bag of tools, "I do comfortable hooves. Although, you know, you could call in Shawn. He's got that mythology special interest going on."

"I texted him. He can come by tomorrow but he's doing a thing."

I nodded. "You are probably," I told the demon, "going to have to repeat the name you want me to use for you several times before I get it. I'm not great with pronunciation. Right, so hoof trimming tools probably look different where you're from, but the principles should be the same. This is—"

"Why are you doing this?"

I shrugged. "I mean. We're humans."

"But—no. Humans want great wealth, or they want their rivals removed, or they want the love of the most beautiful woman in the land, or they want—other things—"

"Humans are bastards sometimes and they should not have treated you like that."

He didn't seem to know what to do with that statement.

"But the main thing about humans is that we clump up in groups. You wanna guess what group me and Winter were in, in high school?"

He shook his head wordlessly.

"The group of kids that didn't fit in. Queer, autistic, whatever. And believe me I'm going to call in all of us until we can make sure you're safe."

"But. I'm not one of you."

I shrugged again. "You are now."

The demon collapsed onto your bed. A vacant stare in his eye as he uttered “this is the 10,000th time I’ve been summoned. can we make it easy? Please?”

[starburstminibot]

Ok, seeing the post about the playlist, you mentioned how Breakdown only gets his act together after finding out that Bee was carrying

So it got me thinking (and this has actually been in my mind since i first came across the au tbh), but how was it while Bee was like, carrying?? There's the fact that, at first, many of the bots probably don't like Breakdown too since, well, he was not the best bf let's be honest.

Idk, I'm just curious to how things were before Breakcheck came to see the world

(Im going out of town for a week and cant draw so im just answering this with a straight up fanfiction-esk paragraph I’m so sorry wish I could be artistic for you anon)

Long story short: the Autobots are very forgiving but they can also be petty motherfuckers.

I mean they welcomed Megatron among their ranks and treat him (for the most part) as an equal and sometimes even a friend. Of course, Megatron earned that trust after years and years of repentance.

I imagine Breakdown is going through a similar arc. He’s never really been THAT loyal to the Decepticon cause. He just… kinda ended up there and didn’t care enough to do anything about it. He views Autobots as these goody, righteous people that he doesn’t feel like he belongs with. So really… what’s left besides Decepticons (considering yourself a neutral at one point was pretty much a death wish. A faction was the only way to acquire any sort of Energon or medical attention. Something Optimus tried hard to avoid, but the reality was safety in numbers.) the only kinship Breakdown ever felt was with the Stunticons… and they’ve been scattered to who knows where… if they’re even still alive.

Except he did have one friend. A friend he’s somehow managed to keep despite being on opposite sides of the war. He tried to convince Bee to join the Decepticons a few times but it was never with genuine intent. Bee was too good for the Cons; Breakdown knew that. He asked to get a rile out of him more than anything. Of course Bee would retort with his own argument of why BD should defect. He was serious about it… but Breakdown knew his place. He’d already done too much…

Now the war is over. And the leader of his faction doesn’t even believe in the cause anymore. Now, Breakdown’s never been a fan of Megatron anyways, but he sure as hell is pissed off when he abandons them to go be buddies with the Autobots. Maybe Breakdown is a little jealous (Of course, he’d never admit it) That Megatron, possibly the cruelest and most unforgiving of them all, is allowed to be redeemed.

He feels betrayed. All the Decepticons do really… He feels like he was led down a path that would only end in self destruction and at the last moment, the one who was paving the way jumped ship, leaving them all to suffer the consequences alone.

He never even wanted this.

But it’s way too late now. He dug this grave and he’s going to see to it that he’s buried in it. But despite the betrayal, and most of the Decepticons now stabbing each other in the back, trying to claim whatever power they can while holding on to this flimsy cause they can barely call a functioning faction, he still has Bee… who is maybe more than just a friend at this point but that’s a lot of feelings Breakdown isn’t ready to unpack.

And he still runs every time it feels a little too good to be true. Still proclaims his loyalty to the Decepticons because he’s too stubborn to admit he’s on a sinking ship. And he still keeps his distance because he refuses to take Bumblebee down with him when it finally goes under.

And maybe they’ve got a fling going… and maybe the autobots start to catch on. It doesn’t matter though, Breakdown doesn’t stick around long enough to see their sneers.

Until… he finds out Bee’s carrying that is… because damn he may not be the best bot in the galaxy but he’s not a complete deadbeat.

And when it hits him… that he’s going to be a sire… well maybe… he start’s sticking around to see the sneers. He hears the mumbles of disapproval. And boyyy does it make him so angry at first. How dare these holier-than-thou bots. They don’t know him or what he’s had to do to survive. How many comrades he’s lost thanks to them. They don’t know what Bee means to him. They don’t know just how much he loves Bumblebee. How he would lay down his spark for him in a klick.

Then Breakdown questions… Does Bee even know that?

From then on… Breakdown realizes, preserving his ego isn’t worth this. He has a chance now. A real honest chance. To do better… to have the life he actually wants… with the one bot who hasn’t ever given up on him.

He wants it so bad.

So he puts up with the comments and the obvious distrust. Because he’s willing to put in the work it takes to earn it. He’s going to prove how much he wants this. He’s going to prove how much he cares. He’s going to prove he is capable of doing better… and maybe along the way he’ll learn… he’s deserving of better too…

Breakdown is lucky Bumblebee has always been a little spoiled because it didn’t take too much convincing for the autobots to give him a shot. To attempt to accept him into their ranks.

He thought Optimus would be the worst of it. The one who practically raised the bot Breakdown knocked up. And for a while it is. Optimus lectures him every chance he gets. Any small hiccup, any little mistake. He doesn’t go easy on breakdown. Optimus at least pretends to be polite about it, or at least professional.He doesn’t yell, or make unnecessary insults. His words are always very honest (which makes them that much harder to hear) but Breakdown will take it… he’ll sit through it, no matter how hard he has to bite his tongue against saying something he’ll regret. He knows how thin the ice is. But he’ll do it for Bee.

The others are a little more brutal… Elita especially so… they are more sharp with their words (and sometimes their blasters) letting him know just what they think of him.

But no… the worst of all… is Megatron. Because Megatron is probably the only bot in the whole faction who looks at him and empathizes. Breakdown doesn’t want empathy. Especially not from the damn bot who betrayed him. Megatron doesn’t give lectures, he doesn’t verbally or physically abuse him when he steps out of line. He barely even raises his voice. And it pisses Breakdown off more than anything. Sometimes he slips up in front of Megatron just to push his boundaries, just to see if he can break this peaceful facade the ex-brutal-dictator seems to be taking. He’s witnessed the warlord beat bots into scrap for far less… and yet… Megatron won’t. Megatron seems to be attempting to guide Breakdown, to offer a new start to their relationship, and Primus Breakdown wants nothing to do with it. He’d rather be lectured and assigned extra training.

And it takes a long while… longer than Bee’s carrying term, and a little while into Breakcheck’s sparklinghood for the Autobots to really start to come around to him. Optimus’ lectures seem to have a bit of fondness to them. And perhaps Breakdown listens a bit more earnestly and takes to heart some of the genuine advice the Prime gives him. And maybe the sparring with Elita has turned less from a one-sided fight and into an enjoyable workout. And MAYBE… he doesn’t intentionally push Megatron as much, and has come to a realization of his own that his Megatron… is nothing like the one who betrayed him… and perhaps there is more in common between them than he’d like to admit.

And when people look at him now, he’s not just the Con Bumblebee has been sneaking around with. He’s a Sire… and a devoted Conjux…

And maybe this is what he’s always wanted. And he can be deserving of it too.

[greengoblinswifey]

A Christmas Reconnection—Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

summary— After breaking up with Rafe due to his treatment of Sarah and her friends, you’ve tried to move on, spending the holiday season without him. But as Christmas approaches, Sarah encourages you to follow your heart, knowing you still love him. A surprise reconciliation reignites your love, and together, you celebrate a magical Christmas.

warnings— slight angst, exes to lovers, oral(m&f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, lots of fluff, L bombs.

Christmas was just a few days away, and the chill in the Kildare air matched the coldness that had settled between you and Rafe over the last few months. Ever since the breakup, you hadn’t had much contact with him. You couldn’t ignore how he’d treated Sarah, and it made being with him feel impossible.

Sitting on the couch in JJ’s living room, wrapped in blankets and sipping hot chocolate, you tried to enjoy the peaceful night, but your mind kept wandering back to him. Sarah sat next to you, watching you with a thoughtful gaze.

“I know you still love him,” she said quietly, breaking the silence.

“What?” you asked, looking over at her.

“I know you still have feelings for Rafe. You wouldn’t have been with him all that time if you didn’t care. But I also know you can’t stand what he’s done to me or John B.”

Your heart squeezed. “I do love him, Sarah,” you admitted softly, “But yeah, I don’t fuck with the way he’s treated you, and how he’s been with your friends, or John B. It’s just not the same.”

Sarah smiled softly, her eyes filled with affection. “I know, and I get it,” she said, her voice sincere. “But I love you both. And I love that you care about me, but I can't keep you away from someone you still love. I want you to be happy, and I know that could mean making up with Rafe.”

You felt a tightness in your chest as she spoke, torn between your loyalty to her and the love you still had for her brother, even after everything. “You want me to go back to him?” you asked.

“I want you to do what feels right for you,” Sarah said gently, “but if you love him, you should give him a chance. It’s gonna be Christmas, after all. A time for second chances, right?”

Her words lingered in the air. You hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth of her support and love, but still unsure of how to handle everything. “Okay,” you whispered, pulling back to look at her. “I’ll try.”

Later that night, you sat alone in your room, your phone buzzing with notifications. You glanced down at your screen to see multiple texts from Rafe as per usual.

Rafe: I’m sorry. I never should’ve treated you like that. Please talk to me. I miss you so much.

Rafe: I love you, and I’m sorry for everything. I’ve been a mess without you.

Each message made your heart ache, but you couldn’t ignore the pain of his past actions. You took a deep breath and typed a response.

We should talk.

Seconds later, his reply came.

Rafe: Yes, please, come over. I’ve missed you so much.

You hadn’t seen him in weeks, and you weren’t sure what to expect. But your heart still cared about him, despite the hurt. After a long moment of hesitation, you grabbed your keys, deciding to drive to his house.

When you arrived at Rafe’s house, you knocked on the door, and when he opened it, his face lit up, but there was a sadness in his eyes too.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I’m glad you came.”

You gave him a small, uncertain smile. “I’m not sure what to expect from this conversation, Rafe.”

“I know,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. “I just want to apologize, for everything. I was an idiot. I hurt you and Sarah and I’m so sorry. But I’ve been miserable without you.”

You looked at him, really looked at him for the first time in a while. He looked different, tired, like he hadn’t slept much. He was still the same Rafe, the one you loved in so many ways, but there was something in his eyes that told you he regretted his actions.

“Why’d you do it?”’you asked softly, feeling the weight of the words. “Why did you treat Sarah that way? Why did you hurt me?”

His gaze softened. “I was selfish. I didn’t think about anyone else. But I promise you, I never meant to hurt you. I’ve just been a mess, and I don’t want to lose you. I’ve been thinking about you every day since we broke up. I fucking love you.”

Your heart clenched in your chest, and despite everything, you wanted to believe him. You weren’t sure if you were ready to jump back into a relationship with him, but there was a part of you that missed him, that longed to hear him say these words.

“You still love me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“More than anything,” Rafe replied, stepping closer to you. “I’m sorry for everything. And I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’ll do anything to make things right.”

You paused, unsure of what to say. You’d been hurt, but maybe, just maybe, there was room for forgiveness. After a long moment of silence, you finally spoke.

“Maybe we can start over. Just—take it slow.”

Rafe’s face lit up with a relieved smile, and he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly. “I’ll take it slow. Whatever it takes to show you I’m serious. I love you.”

You held him back, not fully certain what the future would bring, but for the first time in a long time, you felt a spark of hope. And maybe, just maybe, this Christmas could be the start of something new.

Rafe led you upstairs to his room, where everything looked just as you remembered, his neatly made bed, the faint scent of his cologne in the air, and the soft glow of the lamp on his nightstand. He grabbed a blanket from the edge of the bed and draped it over your shoulders as you both sank into the mattress.

He pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist as you leaned into his chest. “I missed this,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of longing.

“Me too,” you admitted, your fingers toying with the edge of the blanket.

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering a little longer than necessary. “You don’t know how many nights I sat here, just wishing you were with me,” he said, his voice heavy.

You turned slightly, looking up at him. His blue eyes searched yours, a vulnerability there that made your chest tighten. “I didn’t know if we could get back to this.”

“Losing you made me realize how much I was screwing up—not just with you, but with everyone. I’ll prove it to you, every day if I have to,” he replied.

You sighed, leaning your head back against his shoulder. The warmth of his body against yours was a comfort you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. As you shifted slightly, you felt the hardness of his cock press against you.

He cleared his throat, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “Sorry. Can you blame me? Having you this close again, it’s everything I’ve been dreaming about.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you glanced down, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let me help you.” You weren’t sure what came over you and you hoped that you wouldn’t regret it afterwards.

He tried to hide the excitement on his face but you could see it clearly. Slowly, you moved down onto the bed, pulling off his pajama pants to reveal his thick, hard cock. It had been months since you’d seen him like this, he almost looked bigger.

“Are you sure baby? You don’t have to do this if you truly don’t want to,” he said.

You shut him up by taking him into your mouth, stroking him as you did.

“Fuck baby, I missed that mouth,” he moaned.

You glided your tongue along his shaft, trailing it along the vein then licking the tip that oozed his salty pre cum. You took him back in again, this time allowing him to hit the back of your throat. Your hands went to massage his balls as you deep throated his cock and stared into his blue hues. He stared down at you with half lidded eyes and wrapped your braids in his hand, pressing you down gently onto his cock.

“Oh God, you’ve always been so good at this, shit,” he gasped.

You bobbed your head faster, each movement allowing his cock to brush against your tonsil. Rafe’s moans got louder as you spat on his cock before taking him back down your throat then sucking on his balls.

“Get it sloppy just like that baby, you’re sucking my cock so well,” he praised.

He used his hand to guide you down on him and before long, you felt him throb inside your mouth.

“Oh shit baby, I’m gonna cum, take my cum down your throat,” he gasped.

He came inside your mouth and you swallowed every drop, humming around his cock as you did. “That’s a good girl, you did so well for me,” he said.

Rafe began kissing you, trailing down your neck, his lips warm and deliberate, leaving a tingling path that made your breath hitch. He pulled back slightly, his blue eyes locking with yours, filled with a mixture of longing and devotion.

“Let me take care of you too,” he murmured, his voice low and tender, laced with a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen before.

You hesitated, your heart pounding, but the gentle way he cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb over your thighs reassured you. His gaze never left yours, waiting patiently for your response. When you gave a small, shy nod, his lips curved into a soft, relieved smile.

“Just relax,” he whispered, his hands slowly trailing down your sides as he gently took off your sweats. “You deserve to feel good. I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

Your breath quickened as his kisses moved to your thighs. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, the words sending a shiver through you. “Every inch of you drives me crazy.”

His hands rested firmly on your inner thighs, and he pressed a kiss there, his lips lingering as if worshiping the very idea of you. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of this?“

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He paused, looking up at you with a look that stole the air from your lungs. “I mean it,” he said softly. “You’re perfect. I’ll never get tired of reminding you of that.”

When his lips continued their journey to your clit, your head fell back against the pillows, your body responding instinctively to the warmth of his touch. The soft, praising words he murmured between kisses sent your pulse racing.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, his voice husky but soothing. “Let me hear you. I want to know how good I’m making you feel.”

Your hands gripped the sheets, and a soft moan escaped your lips. His name tumbled from you in a whisper, almost like a prayer, and he answered with a quiet, “I’ve got you, baby. Always.”

His movements were deliberate yet unhurried, and the warmth building in you was overwhelming. Pleasure jolted through your entire body as his skilled tongue sucked and nipped on your clit then you felt his finger slip inside you. He curled his finger, meeting the sweet spot inside you as his tongue flicked your clit and made you squirm. You had forgotten how good he was at giving head.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

When your breath hitched and your body tensed, he slowed his movements, giving you time to let the sensations wash over you. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, his tone dripping with affection. “You’re amazing. Cum for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

He tongue sped up and his fingers thrusted into you faster and as the tension built and finally released, you gasped his name, your voice filled with raw emotion. Rafe’s lips pressed against your clit one last time, his hands holding you steady as he whispered, “I’ve got you, always.”

Rafe wasn’t finished with you. He pressed tender kisses all over your face as he lined the tip of his cock with your quivering entrance.

“Do you want this? We can stop if you want to,” he said but you just wrapped your legs around him in response.

His blue eyes were locked on yours, filled with love and lust as his cock slowly slipped inside you. The air from your lungs was taken away as you felt him start to slowly thrust into you.

“I know baby, it’s okay, just breathe, I’ve got you,” he whispered, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.

You felt every inch, every vein, every throb of his cock as he moved inside you, stretching you out like he used to all those months ago. He reached between your bodies and rubbed your swollen clit, increasing the pleasure that took ahold of you.

“You’re so tight baby, I missed this pussy, missed you,” he said, voice strained.

“M-missed your cock so much daddy,” you gasped, feeling him brush against your cervix.

“There’s my girl, that’s it,” he cooed, increasing his pace.

He pounded into you harder, his cock reaching places only he could. You ground against him, meeting his harsh thrusts as the pleasure built and the coil in your abdomen threatened to snap.

“Clenching around me so tight baby, cum for daddy, cum on daddy’s cock,” Rafe murmured.

Moaning daddy like it was the only word you knew, you clamped down on his cock and allowed your orgasm to wash over you. It was powerful and intimate, making you see stars as he held you close and soon, his orgasm took ahold of him too. Rafe’s cum spurted inside your pussy, filling you up as he rutted into you slowly and whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

“You did so well for me baby. Thank you so much, you mean the fucking world to me.”

Rafe kissed your forehead gently, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back as you lay against his chest. His breathing was calm, steady, and he held you like he never wanted to let go.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured, his voice low and tender.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “You sure?” he asked softly. “I need to know you’re good, that you’re not regretting this.”

“I’m not,” you whispered, and to your surprise, you meant it.

He kissed you again, this time slower, as if savoring every second. “Good,” he said against your lips. “I’ve missed you so much. I don’t ever want to lose you again.”

He pulled you closer, wrapping you in the blanket as he held you. His hand brushed through your braids and his lips pressed against your temple. “You know, I didn’t think I’d ever get to have you in my arms like this again,” he admitted. “I’m never letting you go this time. You’re mine, okay?”

You nodded, burying your face in his chest. His scent, familiar and comforting, surrounded you, and you felt safe.

After a while, he murmured, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He carried you to the bathroom, running a warm washcloth over your skin with the utmost care. His hands were gentle, his touch filled with unspoken affection. When he was done, he wrapped you in one of his hoodies and carried you back to bed, tucking you in beside him.

As you drifted off to sleep, his arms securely around you, he whispered, “I love you. Don’t forget that.”

The next morning, as you drove home, you couldn’t stop replaying the night in your mind. It was as if a wall between you and Rafe had crumbled, allowing you to see the vulnerable, loving side of him that you’d always known was there despite him acting like an asshole sometimes.

When you told Sarah what happened, her reaction was a mix of surprise and amusement.

“I knew it,” she said, crossing her arms with a knowing smile. “I mean, I didn’t think it would happen this fast, but I could tell you two weren’t over.”

You looked down, feeling a little embarrassed. “I didn’t plan for this, Sarah. But it felt right.”

She hugged you tightly. “Good. I just want you to be happy. And if that means being with Rafe, then so be it. Just make sure he treats you the way you deserve.”

On Christmas Eve, Rafe invited you over. When you arrived, he greeted you at the door with a warm smile and immediately pulled you into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said softly.

Inside, the living room was cozy and festive, the glow of the Christmas tree lights reflecting off the ornaments. Rafe handed you a pair of red Christmas themed pajamas.

“Matching PJs?” you asked, raising an eyebrow with a small laugh.

“Of course,” he said with a smirk. “You’re my girl, and I wanted this to be perfect.”

You changed into the pajamas, and the two of you spent the evening cuddled on the couch, watching Home Alone and sharing a bowl of popcorn. His arm stayed firmly around you, and he would occasionally press a kiss to your temple or forehead, murmuring how much he loved having you there.

Christmas morning was nothing short of magical. You woke up in Rafe’s arms, his face peaceful as he slept. When he stirred, his eyes opened, and he smiled at you, pulling you closer.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispered, kissing you softly.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, smiling against his lips.

The two of you went downstairs, still in your matching pajamas, and sat by the tree. Rafe handed you a beautifully wrapped box, his eyes full of anticipation.

“Open it,” he urged.

Inside was an elegant promise ring, the diamond sparkling in the morning light. Your breath caught as you looked at him.

“Rafe.”

“I know it’s soon,” he said, taking your hand. “But I want you to know I’m serious about us. This isn’t just some fling. I’m in this for the long haul. You mean everything to me.”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He grinned and handed you another gift, a scrapbook he’d made filled with photos of you two, and little notes he’d written about his favorite memories with you.

You felt a pang of guilt as you handed him the sweater you’d gotten him, you hadn’t planned to even get back together much less spend Christmas together and exchange gifts, but he just smiled. “I love it. And honestly, having you here is the best gift I could’ve asked for.”

The rest of the day was spent baking cookies, cooking Christmas dinner together, and cuddling on the couch. Rafe kept finding little excuses to pull you into his arms, kissing you softly and whispering “I love you” every chance he got.

As the evening wound down, you realized that this was exactly where you were meant to be. Wrapped in Rafe’s arms, the past forgotten, and the future full of possibilities.

[nneteyamss]

ROSES — 19. FAWK

(partly written)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

y/n walked to the park, clutching her jacket closer to her body. the december air blew into her face making her cheeks red as she buried her face further into her scarf.

“why the fuck couldn’t i have picked somewhere warm… my ass should not be put in the cold at 8 o’clock at night.” y/n mumbled to herself, already regretting leaving her warm bed. from a distance she spotted intak seated on a bench, looking at his phone. he was bundled up in a big winter jacket and a scarf wrapped around his neck. yet he had hat, letting snow fall and stick to his black hair. intak suddenly looked up hearing y/n approach and stood to greet her.

“hey… thanks for meeting with me, sorry it’s cold.” guilt instantly ran through y/n’s body because he seemed nervous.

“sorry for making you wait, i don’t know why i picked outside..”

“no it’s okay, i just got here a couple minutes before you.”

y/n simply nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets. the silence was lasted as neither of the two said anything after that.

“uhm do you want to sit? i cleared the snow off the bench.” he gestures to the bench and she nods. they sit down and another awkward silence fills the air.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” y/n turns to him, breaking the silence.

“oh right! i wanted to apologize again about the other day. i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking or so suddenly like that.”

“i appreciate and accept your apology, but why were you there?”

“i don’t know how to explain this without sounding crazy but i knew jaehyun was going to be there, and i had a weird feeling he was going to try something. i came in disguise and i approached you because i saw him walking up to you” y/n started at him with a blank stare, processing what he just said.

“so you were stalking me?”

“well no… but yes? yes to an extent!” intak fumbled over his words, not expecting that question. he thought of it more as keeping an eye out on her for a space she knew the man she so says didn’t like was going to be in. now that she said it though, it kind of seemed like stalking. “sorry” he mumbled.

“your disguise was ass by the way, you should’ve asked shota for his fake mustache” she giggled looking ahead of her. the situation was getting too serious, and she felt the need to make it more lighthearted.

“no way… he said the SAME thing. how do YOU know about the fake stache?”

“i’m the one who bought it for him of course!”

“this is like a full circle moment, what the fuck.” the two laughed together at the moment. who would’ve ever thought that shota having a fake mustache would arise in this convo. however, the laughter eventually died down and intak turned serious. he turned to y/n and grabbed her hands, which were now out of her pockets.

“listen, i need to talk about the main reason i wanted to talk. please don’t say anything until i’m done.” he was dead serious, y/n nodded and pushed down any jokes she could’ve made in the moment. “we’ve been fake dating for a couple months now. we both know the original reason this started. but y/n… i really like spending time with you, like a lot. you’re funny, gorgeous, caring, and so much more. i didn’t plan it but i thought this was just gonna be some fun side quest activity. the more time i spent with you and got to actually know you and your personality, the more i started to actually like you. i tried to fight it off because i mean this relationship wasn’t real and i’m your brothers friend, but i can’t help it. i really… really want this to be real. we get along so well, and there’s a connection. what i really called you out here for was to ask this. i really really like you, could i have the honor of being your boyfriend?”

the long speech was followed by silence. one blink, two blinks, no words. embarrassment gnaws at intak who immediately started to regret asking out of fear of her not feeling the same. yet, he didn’t say anything and let her take her time.

“intak, i didn’t know you felt that way. i feel like this is very sudden though. i need to think about this before i answer, im so sorry” intak nodded and gave her hands a squeeze before letting go. “i’ll text you, i just need to think.” she said again before standing up.

“that’s okay” he gave her a small, yet warm smile. his cheeks were red and his hair was getting damp from the snow. y/n reached forward and pulled his jacket hat onto his head.

“you should get home before you get sick… it’s cold and you don’t have a hat.” the words left her mouth quietly, but intak still heard since the night was quiet was well.

“you should get back as well”

y/n nodded and put her hands back in her pockets, “i’ll see you.” she said and began making her exit of the park and going back home, leaving intak standing in the cold. by time she got in her car and started driving away, intak made his way to his car, waving as she backed out the parking spot.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

previous — masterlist — next

taglist (closed): @cloudmrk @yyangj3lly @vehaez @mmjhh1998 @gomdoleemyson @alethea-moon @jkslvsnella @starfilledgaze @solvrse @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @nerdsungie @lovesuhng @tokitosun @dokgrayson @222brainrot @jakeshuneybby @antifrggile @cyjzzl @nctseventeensworld @bloomyroses @doughyk @lovefooi @chaerinmin @chenlesfavorite @urlocalbeaner5 @thegracerammy @lionzyon @fairyoflia @haefelt @sunflowerbebe07 @seventeeneration @apolloxxivmin @onlyhyunjin @pinklemonade34 @adorwooks @angelpiixie @jkxlvrr @hisrkive @sunghoonsgfreal @zzurao @mango-bear @bee-the-loser @callita @lttlekomori @neozon3nha @calssunflower @natokkiz @joonsprettygf

notes: lalala guess who finished finals, passed all their classes, and got back to work again this week (i need to make all the money i can over break for psyfe and 127 concerts) 🙂‍↕️

[bossuary]

Neve is painless. Rook is real.

Lucanis likes Neve because she represents what he is desperate to regain. He wants to feel normal, to work and cook and focus on the things he used to enjoy (such as they were) before the Ossuary. He wants capital R Romance, right out of a book.

Most importantly, he wants to get rid of Spite. He wants to pretend that he is the man he was...not this abomination.

Without truly knowing her, Lucanis believes Neve is a pathway to all of that. He's attracted to her, and she to him. Their flirting has an edge, but it's also friendly. She dislikes Spite, and her presence makes Spite disappear.

Neve will tell Lucanis that he's still himself, and that Spite doesn't change that. She will never be the one to reconcile Lucanis with Spite, to get them to accept each other. So, yeah, he gravitates to the charming, flirty, warm person who (through no fault of her own, really) feeds his desire to pretend he's not an abomination.

Even early on, I think he's smart enough to know that accepting Spite is his only option, but he...just... can't. With what tools? Nothing in his life has prepared him to deal with this. Rook does that. When denial tears Lucanis apart, Rook puts him back together with acceptance. Rook accepts the reality of Spite, and deals with it head-on every time.

Neve will remind Lucanis that she's not going anywhere. She'll tell him to open his eyes and look at facts, but she (probably) won't be the one to push him out of his own prison. Lucanis knows this, so Spite knows this, and therefore Spite will not look to Neve for help.

It's important for Lucanis to accept that Spite has changed him. But when it's Rook who says it--for whom Lucanis has developed real feelings, not idealized ones--well, it destroys the fantasy Lucanis clings to so vehemently, the one where he isn't this.

For me, the Lucanis/Rook romance feels the way it does NOT because the writers "preferred" that Lucanis and Neve get together, but because Neve is simply easier for Lucanis to accept. She's easier to talk to, unchallenging. Easy isn't bad! Comfort isn't bad! God knows they both deserve some comfort.

Loving Rook is a profoundly complex choice. There's not a lot of cute ways to work that profundity into sexy banter. It makes sense, then, that Lucanis doesn't have as much dialogue for a romanced Rook as he does with Neve. What he can do is cook, make small gestures. He can, heartbreakingly, tell Rook, over and over, that he doesn't have the words to express how he feels. That's such an awful state, knowing that the person you care about needs to hear words you simply cannot locate. As soon as he does have the words, he shares them.

Rook is real. And real is not easy.

To Lucanis, Rook represents a difficult path to recovery, a path he has to keep choosing to follow, every day. At a time in his life where he is incapable of seeing Spite (and his own PTSD ) as anything but a 'distraction' to shove aside, Rook shows genuine interest in helping Lucanis heal. Rook takes consistent action toward that goal, particularly when it's clear that Lucanis doesn't know how.

Lucanis also has to believe that he's worth the effort, his own and his love's. Neve is great, love her, but I don't see this struggling cynic, this chronic worrier, being very helpful in the self-worth department. No, people in a relationship do not have to perform therapeutic roles. But, partners do have to respect each others' boundaries and needs.

Of course Lucanis goes all-in for Neve, romantically, even while he and Rook are dancing around each other. Accepting how much he loves and cares for Rook means looking at himself the way Rook does. That is so much harder than whatever will happen with Neve.

The fact that Lucanis isn't afraid to pursue Neve, even if Treviso is blighted, tells me that Neve is an indulgence for him. Again, that's not a value judgement. If they treat each other with respect, then the merits of the relationship don't have to fall on whether Lucanis 'heals' as a result. Sometimes not hurting all the time is enough.

BUT. Contrast the ease he feels with Neve with his feelings about Rook:

"When I was afraid to want you..."

That is a powerful admission.

What was he afraid of? The annihilation of neglect, worthlessness, and shame. The awful but knowable pillars of his existence.

Wanting Rook means that Lucanis wants to dismantle everything he knows in pursuit of something he doesn't. To love Rook is to love and accept himself, exactly as he is.

Then...then...Lucanis finds real comfort.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-two of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Please,” he manages again, and it’s so fucking hard to not just–to not just ride him exactly as “too much” and greedy as he’s trying not to, and so fucking hard not to think about Bernard’s mouth nipping at his chest and Bernard’s hands on his ass, making sure–making sure Tim can really see just how “inspired” Kon got him and just what they’re both doing about it, and–and–“Feels so good, feels so good, wanna come, wanna make you come, want you to do it inside, please do it inside, don’t pull out, fuck–” 

He hears Tim take a very careful, doors-blowing-in breath, and Bernard laughs raggedly and then buries a groan against his collarbone and grips his ass tighter. 

“Hey,” he says, just as ragged and sounding like he’s had the air knocked out of him, which makes Kon feel pretty good about how he’s doing, even though he’s not even really all that good at, like–riding somebody like this. “Gimme your hands, alright? Keep ‘em behind your back, just–” 

“M’kay, I–yeah, ‘kay,” he stammers, letting go of his wrist and dropping his hands down towards Bernard’s own, since he assumes that’s what the guy means and all, though he doesn’t know what he wants with– 

“Good boy,” Bernard says, letting go of his ass to catch his hands. He gives them both a squeeze, which Kon melts a little over and also feels stupidly horny about, and then he guides them down and puts them on his ass right where his own were and gives them another light little squeeze. “Make sure Tim gets a nice view, alright? Show him how much you like it.” 

“A-alright,” Kon manages, and actually fucking blushes over the fucking idea, which is fucking ridiculous, but–but he definitely does, yeah, even as he grips his cheeks just like Bernard did and lifts and spreads them up a little again and–and definitely blushes about it, fuck. “I–like–?” 

“Yeah, like that. Good boy,” Bernard says again, pressing a little kiss against his collarbone as he lets go of his hands to skim his own up his hips and sides and ribs. Kon shudders roughly, mostly in his thighs, and clutches up tighter around the other’s cock. It feels–good to. It feels really, really good to. 

Bernard maybe agrees, he thinks, given how the guy groans over it. 

“Fuck, seriously, so cute,” he says both breathlessly and feelingly, curling his fingers against Kon’s ribs for a moment and then pushing his hands up under and over his pecs and pushing them up a little too. Kon feels way too into how it feels to have someone just pushing his body around, even just in little ways like that. “Jesus, you ride dick like you want the whole thing first thing.” 

“I do want it,” Kon begs, which is maybe kind of stupid since he’s the one doing the work here and the one forcing himself not to be greedy, but–“Want it, want the whole thing, lemme have it, please lemme have it, m’tight, right? Your dick feels so good, does my ass feel good too? You like it? Like me? Really want you to, you’re so nice to me, I don’t get it, you’re so nice and you’re so fucking hot and I want you to like me.” 

“I like you,” Bernard says a lot more feelingly, and rolls his hips up to emphasize the point as he slides his hands up over Kon’s chest. It definitely, definitely does, and Kon’s gut burns and his cock throbs. “I like you a lot. And my dick really likes you. My dick is now actually seriously considering the ‘become a pink kryptonite-themed supervillain’ plan, in fact. I assume the other Supers might not be into that but I figure they’ll just let you handle me, all things considered.” 

“They would absolutely have to lock me up in the Fortress to keep me from being the one to do literally all of that ‘handling’,” Kon laughs breathlessly, feeling warm, warm, warm. Bernard’s just–he’s really funny, and he’s cute, and he maybe gives “instructions” more than “orders” but he gives them so easy, and Kon doesn’t get why he’s being so nice to him. 

He is absolutely the opposite of complaining about the “nice”, obviously, but it’s just–he doesn’t know. It’s not like he thought the guy wouldn’t be nice or anything, just–just he’s being nice to him. 

To–him. 

Kon doesn’t even really know what’s going on in his head about that right now, but . . . but there’s definitely something going on in his head about that right now. Just–something. 

“Hmmm, I might need to be a little sneaky, then, wouldn’t want ‘em doing that before I got you all collared-up and warmed-up,” Bernard says with a little grin, giving Kon’s pecs an appreciative little squeeze and then rubbing both his thumbs across both his nipples. Kon bites his lip and stutters–just stutters his hips a little, maybe. “Aw, that’s cute. Did you like that, boy? You got really tight for it.” 

“I like it,” Kon says, then bites his lip again and digs his teeth in a little harder this time, and maybe pushes his chest just a little more into Bernard’s hands. The jokey fantasy idea, yeah, but also–“I–just feels really–” 

It’s not even that the actual, like, physical part feels that good, though it definitely does, just–Bernard paid so much attention last time he was touching his chest, and he seems to, like, really like his chest, or at least keeps coming back to it, and that feels . . . 

That’s the thing that feels “really”, Kon guesses. And also the thing that makes him maybe wanna get a couple of those piercings after all, and get to wonder if Bernard is looking at his S-shield to see if they show, next time he sees the guy. Which is probably a stupid thought since it’s not like he’s even gonna find that idea hot once he’s done being gay, but also–also he just likes the idea of getting admired anyway, sue him, and also, like . . . 

Well. Bernard would still think it was hot, right? And Kon really doesn’t think he’d mind making himself a little bit better eye candy for the guy, after how fucking nice he’s been to him already. And like–maybe Bernard would think it was hot he’d gotten those piercings specifically because of him, too, and not just the eye candy part. 

And maybe Tim would like it, if Kon did something like that for his boyfriend. 

Alternately, maybe that’s weird and insane and way, way too much to actually seriously do. But–well–Tim already said he could ask once he wasn’t gay anymore, so like . . . Tim would tell him if it was too much, Kon figures. Right? Like–he’d tell hiim if it was okay to do or not. 

And if it was okay, maybe he could also tell him if Bernard would be more into gold or stainless steel. 

Or, like–if he thought there were maybe a couple other piercings he should get too.

[feinyan]

DATING HEADCANONS featuring. damon maitsu, kai monteago, wolfgang akire, desmond hall and mark berskii.

edens garden maxxing rn :] i enjoyed chapter one a lot, so i’ll be pumping out a bit more writing of them ^^; feel free to send in requests, (even if its for different medias) though i already have 3-4 drafts ill be dishing out eventually.

damon, who treats you like you’re a fragile little doll, prepared for you to break at any moment. hence, why he worries for you so much. though he attempts (and fails) to play it off as a casual concern. ‘are you hurt? bleeding?’ ‘what? no? i just tripped, damon.’ ‘are you sure? let me check just incase. come on, stop moving.’ damon, who always has a limb around you. his hands? wrapped around your waist, or intertwined within your own. his legs? always pressed up against yours. if you point it out, he gets flustered and denies it, pulling away. but you’ll still find his eyes constantly lingering on you, as if he hasn’t felt your contact in months and needed it desperately. damon, who is a tease, yet gets flustered just as easily. sarcastic, teasing remarks always escaping his lips, smirking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. though the minute you retort back with a comment of your own, he's completely quiet. blushing and muttering embarrassed insults under his breath. damon, who doesn’t quite understand standards when it comes to dating. holding a door open for you? walking close to the road? wearing a hair tie on his wrist incase you’d needed one? a foreign concept to him. but regardless, upon hearing things told to him by other people whilst rambling like kai, he tries his best to adapt to it. things that would normally be unusual for him, he attempts because he wants the best for you. damon, who is stingy and a bother about little trinkets you point out. ‘do you really need that?’ ‘that looks stupid.’ ‘its so small. why is it expensive?’ yet of course, they’d somehow end up within your residence. somehow. obviously, it were damon. damon, who spoils you with acts of services. openly doing things he’d refuse to or need convincing for from others, going out of his way to do things for you without being asked, etc. sure, maybe once in awhile he’ll knock on your head and call you an idiot for not being able to do something yourself, but it’s just teasing. he truly doesn’t mind providing for you, or helping you. anything that offers spending time with you is worth it for him.

kai, who couldn’t get enough of you. your touch, your attention, your words, you name it, he likes it. his hands are constantly all over you, any opportunity he’s given. he melts within your touch, in his most vulnerable state, unable to resist anything when it comes from you and your grasp. kai, who spoils you with anything he can offer — cute endearing nicknames, gifts he’d found that he thought you’d like, or even little snacks he thought looked silly that you two could try together. he loves to see your expression light up when he offers you some item he’d found that he thought you’d enjoy. even if you don’t end up liking it, the idea of him being reminded of you or thinking of you enough to make the purchase still leaves you feeling warm. kai, who whiningly calls you princess whenever he needs something from you. aside from his casual nicknames that he adores, like sweetheart or baby, whenever princess leaves his lips, you know he wants something from you. kai, who is admittedly quite insecure. he’s scared he’ll be abandoned by you, just like he’d been left by so many others who viewed him differently due to the persona he puts on online. but because of this, it just means he cherishes what you give him more than anything. he wants you to be able to touch those negative emotions inside of him, and see what really lies within his heart, not what he puts on the internet or around others.

wolfgang, who leaves encouraging little sticky notes around your desk when spending time away from you. reminders to take care of yourself, reminders that he loves you and wishes he were with you, etc. wolfgang, who gently takes care of you whenever given the opportunity. brushing your hair in the morning, making you coffee, assisting you in filling out paperwork, you name it. despite being such a busy man, he works hard to make sure he’s around for you. wolfgang, who despite appearing so cool headed, is such a jealous boy. the type to watch you talk to someone from behind and give them a disgustingly stern glare, but the moment you turn to face him, hes smiling sweetly in your direction. the type to wrap his arms around you and get all close and mushy in order to scare off someone else eyeing you. wolfgang, who invites you out on the sweetest dates ever. picnics under the warm, dimly lit night sky, only the stars witnessing the two of you giggling away and laying together. or, a romantic date at a a fancy restaurant, where the two of you dress elegantly, yet he can’t take his eyes off of you. his mind too caught onto the gorgeous attire tight against your body, too lost in how gorgeous you look whilst speaking to him. wolfgang, who spoils you with luxurious items. anything you want? you’ll get it. he doesn’t mind what you wear, whether or not you like cute or cheap things. what does matter though, is if you want something. and if you want something, you’ll get it.

desmond, who is so smooth with his words, you could die. the way he speaks to you in such a soft and caring tone. the way he goes along willingly with whatever you say, because admittedly, what makes you happy makes him happy. the way he speaks about you in such an endearing way to others. others may be embarrassed when speaking of or sharing about someone they love, but desmond expresses the way he feels for you without hesitation. desmond, who teaches you little quirks about his ultimate. little things that could be useful for protecting you, or just things he finds neat and wants to share with you. desmond, who is perfect for a clumsy you. about to trip? hes already grabbed you, hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you back up onto your feet. about to spill something? hes grabbed the glass, preventing it. his quick reflexes are almost scary.

mark, who loves to kiss a certain part of you. your hands, your nose, silly yet specific places which just make him feel warm. mark, who gets embarrassed about the way he thinks about you. who will be listening to you rambling like usual, yet turn his head out of no where, muttering to himself like a flustered mess. mark, who has an attitude which is no joke. it doesn’t come off as a surprise, but the way he rolls his eyes and grumbles makes it much easier to decipher when he’s displeased or irritated. but to him, you’re a soft spot which can always manage to cheer him up. your silence yet presence close to his serves as a type of battery for him. mark, who is constantly sharing songs that he likes to you. new songs hes found that remind him of you, a song hes been listening to a lot recently, or even just songs hes worked on. he wants you to enjoy what he does.

@ feinyan

[ughsecondblogsdontwork]

I don't watch a whole lot of television, so maybe I'm missing some perspective, but I've never seen a TV show where the Main Character was a fat gay man (or person in general, I'm not crazy enough to think they'd ever try to pull this with a fat lesbian for instance) where neither his sexuality or fatness were 1. An overt problem in the narrative or 2. The butt of routine or mean-spirited jokes. What We Do In the Shadows was awesome in so many ways, but it was also awesome because I got to see a gay and fat person do all kinds of shit as a main character without being constantly questioned or degraded for being fat! I really, really love Guillermo. He's a vampire slayer! An action hero! He looks cool, cute and sexy all at once in his action scenes- I love watching him grow as a character and stand up for himself, I love his jokes, he's really such a great character! So this final season sucked, right. Like this final season was total shit ass, I'm sorry. I'm so disappointed. I feel so let down. There are a million reasons why it sucked, but right now I just feel sad because of how everything turns out for Guillermo and the queer and fat representation in the show. First of all, it really threw me for a loop when the show opened with crazy fat jokes about Colin Robinson. That obviously did not land for me at all and why would it land for wwdits viewers? We are following a show where we are emotionally invested in a fat MC and we don't have a *problem* with fatness- so why would I think it's funny that Colin Robinson "got fat"??? Make it make sense lmao.

And I don't know why the fuck Nandor and Guillermo's entire relationship was abandoned. Did every single writer jump ship and get replaced by someone who's never seen the show or??? Well, it feels like a punch in the gut for a few reasons:

This show is supposedly "queer". Every known vampire is queer and Guillermo is gay. But the only consistent relationship is Nadja and Lazslo, which isn't a problem obviously we love them, but would it kill the show for there to be...? More visibly queer relationships? It's a show that insists its gay over and over again in word but not action. I don't care if Nandor and Lazslo like to fuck each other silly offscreen, and Nadja is also supposedly queer in some way, off screen- everything is conveniently off screen. Nandor and Guillermo did not *need* to get together, but the lack of explicit acknowledgement is weird. It just is.

Also, it would just be nice! Like am I crazy? Is it too much to ask for? To see a fat MC be in love and in a relationship not in spite of their appearance but just bc the other person likes them? I feel like every show with gay couples as main characters is a romance based show that is mostly About them getting together. Wwdits is so much fun because it's about so many things! But why couldn't this be *one* of those things? Can you think of a single show in the world right now where a fat queer main character is in a relationship and their looks or their sexuality are not the key point of conversation about the relationship? I can't! This was the perfect opportunity! Nandor and Guillermo fell into a well established relationship trope that had nothing to do with appearance or sexuality, and people who like that trope were naturally drawn to it. Why did they just spit on the whole thing? It makes no fucking sense.

Any response like "well sometimes unrequited love is a good plot" "X needed to grow and Y relationship was bad" "It's better this way because of XYZ" "It would have been toxic" this is a silly tv show about murderous vampires. Guillermo is also a murderer. There is just no possible way that a relationship between Guillermo and Nandor would have ruined the show lmao. It would have been fun! Remember when TV comedies were about being fun! I sure do! Apparently asking for a fun gay relationship between the queer main characters of the "queer TV show" is just too much to ask- better luck next time! Honestly, I feel so bitter lol. Bitter and sad. A show this fun and a cast this good deserved a waaaaay better ending all around. This post isn't even touching all the other weird shit and quite a lot of objectively bad shit that was wrong with the season

Before anyone gets all weird about my use of the word fat if you're not familiar with that, I am fat and I think fat is a neutral word and am trying to normalize the usage of it instead of substituting it with shit like "plus size". Fat is not an insult in the context of my words lol

[desi2go]

Christmas Scavenger Hunt

pairing: Jisung x reader

words: 4,3k

warnings: fluff, christmas

summary: You and Jisung share a magical holiday experience when Jisung plans a scavenger hunt filled with clues tied to your most cherished memories.

author's note: Hey guys! It's been a while since I posted something. Anyways, I'm back! I had so much fun writing this and btw it's for the StayblrHolidayEvent. I hope you enjoy it <3 Merry Christmas to yall!

-> @stayblrofficial

The first snow of December had come earlier than expected this year, layering the little town in a soft, powdery white. Everything felt quieter, more magical – the world had slowed down just enough to let her breathe. As you walked briskly through the streets towards Parchment Palace, the small independent bookstore where you worked. Your breath was foggy in the frosty air, twinkling lights lined the lampposts and wreaths decorated the storefronts with pops of red ribbon. You absolutely loved Christmas. It had always been your favourite time of year with hot chocolate, the smell of pine and cinnamon as well as Christmas movies you had watched a hundred times without getting bored. By now, you could quote every Christmas related movie that was ever produced. This year, though, felt different. There was something – or rather, someone – that made your cheeks warm even in the winter chill.

Jisung.

It had been only four months since you and Jisung started seeing each other. Four months of easy laughter, long conversations and quiet meaningful moments. He wasn’t the most outgoing guy due to his social anxieties, but he had this gentle, thoughtful way about him. Like he always noticed things others didn’t. You liked that about him, you liked a lot about him, actually.

The bell above Parchment Palace jingled as you stepped inside, the familiar smell of paper and vanilla candles greeted you. Sofia, your cheerful coworker and oldest friend, looked up from the counter and grinned widely. “Morning Y/n” she said, brushing her curly hair out of her face. “Someone’s looking extra giddy today” You rolled your eyes, a smile still spreading over your lips. “I’m just excited about Christmas”

She smirked, wiggling with her eyebrows. “You mean you’re excited about Christmas with Jisung” At her suggestion, you fought the blush that crept up your cheeks. “Maybe”

Sofia chuckled, holding up a small envelope that she waved through the air. “Speaking of, this was mysteriously dropped off for you earlier. No return address, no name. Just To Y/n. Care to explain?” You reached out after hanging up your jacket. “It’s from Jisung, isn’t it?” you murmured while Sofia urged you to find it out, observing the letter behind your back. Your heart skipped as your fingers brushed over the neatly folded paper. As you opened it, you immediately recognised Jisung’s handwriting, slightly messy but unmistakably his.

A little clue to start your day: Find where we first sat with coffee for two. There’s something there only for you to see.

Your lips parted in disbelief, rereading the few lines over and over again. “He’s sending me on a scavenger hunt?” Sofia clapped her hands together in excitement. “He is such a keeper. Honestly, he is making all the other boys look bad” You could hardly contain your joy as you shoved the note securely into your bag. “I can’t believe he actually did this” Sofia laughed, pushing you towards the door and holding your jacket in the other. “I will manage alone here. Go, you have got a mystery to solve”

❄❄❄❄❄

You stepped out of the bookstore into the crisp, snow-kissed morning. The streets were still bustling with holiday shoppers, their arms full of bags, red and green scarves tight against the cold. You tugged your own scarf closer around the neck, the note Jisung had left still snug in your bag. You couldn’t stop smiling. A scavenger hunt. He really planned a scavenger hunt. Jisung wasn’t the flashy or over-the-top like the romantic leads in Christmas movies you loved so dearly, but he had his own charm and this? This was exactly the kind of thing that would melt your heart. Thoughtful and so personal. It already felt like the best Christmas you had ever had, and it hadn’t even arrived yet.

The Blissful Brews was just around the corner, nestled between an old record store and a boutique that sold handmade jewellery. In that old record store worked Jisung. There, you had crossed paths for the first time as you bought your favourite albums and accidentally ran into him. You still remembered how his coffee had drenched your blouse and his deep apologies. The Blissful Brews was the kind of coffee shop that locals loved – warm and small enough that you could find someone you knew sitting in the corner with a steaming mug. The windows were fogged over from the warmth inside and the soft music spilled out as you pushed through the door. Rich espresso mingled with the sweetness of cinnamon and sugar – one of your favourite smells in the world, second only to fresh books and old paper. You paused for a moment near the entrance to take it all in. Everything about this place reminded you of Jisung. The first time you really met (well, if you don’t consider the little accident) and you were so nervous. He had invited you to a coffee as an apology. At that time, you didn’t know that he soon will cross the line between friendship and love.

Now, standing in the familiar warmth of the café, you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. They both had been incredibly nervous, and the first few minutes were awkward as you had ordered. But this issue was overcome pretty quickly, and you were engaged in a deep conversation for hours. “Can I help you?” the young barista asked, leaning on the counter and eyeing her with an amused expression. You turned to observe the man that had dyed his hair in an unusual pinkish colour. You greeted him, telling him that you searched for an envelope. Of course, he knew you. He was the one that took your orders. Raising his eyebrows, he smiled. “A scavenger hunt clue, maybe?” You blinked, surprised. “Jisung told you?” The barista smirked sheepishly. “He may have come in last night and left something for you. That boy is so sweet” He gestured towards the back of the shop. Of course, why didn’t you think about it earlier? It was obvious that Jisung would have hidden at your table – the small two-seater tucked near the huge window where you had sat on your first unofficial date.

Your boots clicked softly against the wooden floor as you made your way to it, the hum of conversation and the faint clatter of cups filling the air. Your heart did a little flip when you saw a piece of paper carefully taped to the back of one of the chairs. He really did plan this whole thing, you thought. The handwriting was unmistakably Jisung’s, looking like he had been scribbling quickly.

Clue Two: Remember the big storm where you got soaked? You laughed at me ‘til you nearly choked. Go where we took cover and found some cheer, You will find your next clue there.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that memory. It had been one of your earlier dates, back in late September. The weather had been cold but clear when you walked around the town. Jisung, as always, had insisted on walking you back home after the successful date – even though it was a good twenty-minute trip, and his own apartment was on the other side of the town. Halfway through, the first droplets of rain started to fall that had been signalized by the dark clouds and the stormy wind. Small and cold, the water absorbed by your thin jacket. “Oh no” you had muttered, looking up at the ominous grey clouds overhead. Jisung, always the optimist, had grinned. “Maybe it will just be a drizzle” he commented.

Well, it wasn’t. Within moments, the rain had come down in buckets, soaking both of you to the bone, clothes clinging to your wet skin. You remembered standing there in the middle of the street, your hair plastered to your face, water running down your jacket in rivulets. And Jisung stared at you helplessly like he was trying to think of something heroic to do. “Umbrella?” he had stammered. “Too late for that” you said, giggling while you brushed your hair out of your face. Jisung had looked at you like you were slightly insane but the smile permanent on his lips. He had tugged you to a small shop, taking shelter there. The quirky little clothing shop near your apartment where he had bought you a fluffy, deep blue hoodie with a funny picture on it to keep you warm. So far, it was one of your favourite hoodies, creating a great memento of your date.

Now standing in that same clothing store, the second clue clutched in your hand, you searched through the cozy, cluttered shop filled with all different kinds and seizes of clothes in multiple colours. The old shopkeeper, looked up with a knowing smile. The smile of the grey-haired lady was kind and warm. “Ah Y/n” she greeted you, folding new clothes and putting them away on of the racks. “Jisung mentioned you would be coming by” You blinked. “He told you about this?”

Her laughter spread the whole shop. “Of course. That lovesick boy spent nearly an hour here yesterday, making sure that everything was perfect” You followed her to the counter as she pulled out a big paper bag. As soon as you opened it, your gaze locked on a red hoodie, decorated with small white snowflakes. You chuckled at the parallel to your past date. On top sat another note.

Here, my love, is clue three: Our bench in the park, Where we shared our first kiss. A memory I hold, sweet and kind, Go back there now and you will find the next clue.

❄❄❄❄❄

As you stepped back out into the cold, the snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky, you couldn’t stop the giddy excitement bubbling inside you. Every little detail Jisung had included so far – the places, the memories, the clues – was so perfectly. Your boots crunched against the freshly fallen snow as you walked quickly towards the park. The streets were busier now, families wandering hand-in-hand, and the shop windows glowing warmly in the gathering dusk. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, your breath misting in the cold air. The park wasn’t far from the clothing shop and soon, you found yourself standing at the entrance, the large trees stood brave in the falling snow, their branches dusted with snow.

The benches – especially the one you were looking for – were a small island in the white. You scanned the park, looking for the familiar sight. There it was, your bench. The bench where Jisung finally made you, his girlfriend. It was tucked beneath an old oak tree, the powdery snow gathering slowly on the wooden slats. The tree’s branches stretched overhead, and you could almost hear your memories of your past visits. The easy conversations, the quiet moments where you had leaned your head against his shoulder. And then, the kiss happened and symbolised the beginning of your relationship. He had seemed so nervous, his gaze wandering over your face, from time to time locking on your lips, not sure if he was allowed to lean in and capture them. You didn’t act differently.

Honestly, he had won your heart over at your fist unofficial date. As you told him about your day, your own eyes travelled over his soft, pillowy lips, imagining how it would be to kiss him. Eventually, he took all his courage and pressed his lips firmly on yours. Before you could even react, your mind still trying to understand what happened, he retracted. As he brushed through his hair in panic, stuttering apologies, you shook yourself out of your trance and grabbed the collar of his jacket. Swiftly, you pulled him towards you again, his voice was overflowing while you silenced him skilfully. This time, you lead the kiss and quickly, he recovered from the shock and reciprocated the tender gesture.

You reached the bench, smiling to yourself as you saw the small package, wrapped simply in brown paper and a beautiful red bow. Bending down, you brushed the thin layer of snow from the package and untied the bow as well as the paper. A big mug caught your eye, pulling it out from underneath the carefully wrapped papers to ensure that it won’t break.

You turned it to inspect the motif, heart fluttering in your chest as soon as your gaze fell on the photo printed on it. It wasn’t just any photo, no, it showed you two, his cheeks squished against yours tightly. You took it right here on the bench a few weeks prior on a date. Both of your smiles were bright, eyes sparkling with joy and adoration. Your chest tightened, touched by the thoughtful gesture as you pulled the mug close to your heart. This would be your favourite mug from now on. Inside, folded carefully, was the next clue. You pulled it out with a mixture of excitement and curiosity, unfolding it gently as if it were something fragile. Jisung’s handwriting filled the page.

Clue Four: It’s time for the final stop on our trip, Come warm up your hand and take a sip, Come Home where the heart will be, Find me, my love, and you will see.

Your heart leapt. Home. It was a simple word, but it meant so much to you. Your home had always been your apartment – your cozy little space filled with tons of books where you had lived since you moved into this town. But with Jisung, it had started to feel like more than just an apartment. As the weather was colder and rainy, you had spent much time there together, arguing over which Christmas movie to watch, cooking dinner side by side and wrapping presents for family and friends.

Slowly, over the last few months, it had become a place where you could imagine a future, a future with him. With this scavenger hunt, he wasn’t trying to be someone he wasn’t. He wasn’t flashy and didn’t plan some over-the-top romantic gesture straight out of a movie. What he had done was so much better – he had paid attention to the small, quiet moments you had shared. The memories that felt uniquely yours.

You read the note again, realizing what the clue actually meant. Jisung was waiting for you. “Home” you murmured to yourself, your breath fogging in the cold air. You felt a flutter of anticipation deep in your chest as you made your way back down the snowy path toward the street, eager to reach your apartment, to see what Jisung had planned next. The walk was quick, but it felt like an eternity. Each step seemed to pull your closer to something that had always been just out of reach – a feeling of belonging. With Jisung.

❄❄❄❄❄

When you reached your apartment building, it felt like the final puzzle piece was clicking into place. The familiar steps that led to the entrance, the little lobby with its mismatched furniture and the clattering sounds of neighbours going about their daily routines – all of it was comforting. It was home. Now, there was the promise of something even more special waiting inside. You climbed the stairs to the floor, your boots clicking softly on the old wooden steps. The snow outside created a thin layer of frost now thick enough to blanket everything in white. But inside, the warmth from her apartment was waiting – just like Jisung. When you reached the door, something was different.

The dim hallway light flickered above your head, casting soft shadows on the walls. But what really caught her attention was the way the hallway smelled. It wasn’t the usual scent of fresh air or coffee from the neighbours down the hall. This time, there was something warmer, sweeter in the air. Curious, you approached your door and paused, your hand resting lightly on the doorknob. The faintest glow of light slipped through the crack beneath the door, casting a soft, inviting warmth into the otherwise dark hallway.

You opened the door slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you stepped inside, observing your apartment in search of Jisung. There, in the middle of the living room, was the most unexpected sight – a blanket fort. An actual blanket fort. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure whether to laugh or cry at how utterly this was. Soft blankets and throws were draped over every available surface, creating a small cozy cocoon in the centre of your living room. Christmas lights twinkled across the top, casting a soft glow. There were pillows scattered everywhere, some piled high inside the fort, others lining the floor like a cushiony path. It was like a childhood dream, but somehow even better – because this time, you had Jisung.

The small Christmas tree you two had bought together last week (well, he helped you with finding the perfect one since you couldn’t decide which one to get and brought it to your apartment since the tree was too heavy for you to lift). Despite your bickering that he should let you help at least with holding it up too, he wanted to do it alone, claiming that it was his job as your boyfriend. You had decorated the Christmas tree together, in the background played your favourite playlist to which you both sang loudly, hanging the handmade ornaments and paper snowflakes on the twigs.

Your heart swelled with pride as you took it all in, trying to figure out how you could get so lucky to have such a thoughtful boyfriend. And then, you heard him in the kitchen, he seemed to be preparing something but as he realised you were home, he stalked into the living area. Two steaming mugs in his hand, your favourites you recognised, His eyes displayed fondness when he observed you, smiling brightly.

“Hey, my love” he greeted you, placing the mugs onto the small couch table before turning to you again. You stepped closer, your feet light on the carpet as you walked towards him, his smile got playful. Hands on your hips, you tried to suppress the grin threatening to spread across your face. “So, this is the big finale? A blanket fort? You had me running all over town for this?” A mischievous smile appeared on his lips. “Hey now, this is a masterpiece. I spent hour building and rebuilding it until we both can fit inside. It’s the crown jewel of the scavenger hunt” he exclaimed, fully convinced with his grand idea. You raised your eyebrows, judging his so-called masterpiece. You must say that he did a really good job at building it.

“I must admit, it looks nice” you told him your decision, smiling fondly. “Did you plan all of this?” He nodded proudly, pulling you inside and placed a mug into your hands. As you analysed it further, you realised it was a hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, marshmallows and colourful sprinkles. Just how you liked it. The interior of the fort was cozy and intimate, pillows scattered across the floor, and the twinkling lights above gave the space a dreamy glow. You let out a breath you didn’t knew you were holding. “This is … incredible. This whole journey was wonderful.” you whispered. Jisung shifted, his comfortable scent wafting surrounded you, he smelled like home – your home.

“No need to thank me. Even though we are only four months into our relationship, I wanted to do something special. Because in this short time, my life has changed drastically. You became the centre of my life, my love.” he explained, pulling your hand into his, heating your cold fingers as he caressed the skin lightly. His gaze was soft, full of love when he continued.

“And I wanted you to feel how much everything I experienced with you means to me, every single memory we made together. How much you mean to me” You looked at him, your eyes shining while the weight of his words sank in. “I noticed” you stated quietly. “The café where we had our ‘unofficial’ date. The clothing store when we were surprised by the sudden rain. The bench where we shared so many memories, our first kiss included. You didn’t just send me running around town, Ji. You sent me through us”. Your boyfriend leaned back on his elbows, his gaze softening.

“That was the idea” he admitted. “Sometimes we get caught up in the present, in everything happening around us. And I just wanted to take you back – to remind us of all the moments that brought us here”. Your other hand traced the edge of one of the blankets as you took a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly. “It worked. Every step of the way, I felt it – how much thought, how much love you put into this. I’ve never had anything like this before, Jisung. It’s overwhelming, in the best way” The tears you fought to keep in, slowly escaped and rolled over your cheeks as you sobbed because of how much you adored this man next to you and the weight of not only his words but also his actions.

He cooed at you fondly, cupping your face with his hands, brushing the tears away while placing a sweet peck on your forehead. “Don’t cry. You know I can’t stand it when you cry” Soothingly he rocked you, humming to help you calm down. You smiled at him, puffy eyes but you promised that this were happy tears. “This” you said finally “is more than I ever could ask for” You leaned into him, resting your head against Jisung’s shoulder.

“I know that it’s not Christmas Day. But I have another gift for you” he stated, reaching into his hoodie pocket and pulling out a small, wrapped package. “I thought the fort was the grand finale?” You asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. He placed it gracefully into your open palm, his expression playful but tinges with something deeper. “You could describe it as an addition. Go on, open it”

You tore into the wrapping carefully, your fingers grazing the brown paper and the simple red ribbon. Inside was a small wooden box, its surface smooth and polished. Your breath caught as you opened it, revealing an assortment of trinkets nestled inside. There was a ticket stub from your first movie date, the corner slightly torn where he had fidgeted with it nervously. A pressed leave from the time you had from the time you spent in the park with a picnic as the weather wasn’t that bad, even for autumn. Several other things from past dates were laying in the box. The memories flooded back in vivid detail. “You kept all of this?” your voice broke again as tears welled up. He chuckled, his gaze steady. “Of course. I wanted to remember it all – the moments that made me realize how much you mean to me”

You swallowed hard, fighting the lump in your throat that made it difficult to speak. “I don’t even know what to say. This … This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me”. He smiled widely, pecking your forehead once again. “Thank you so much, Ji” “I’m glad, because you mean the world to me, Y/n. And I think there’s one more thing we’re missing to make this moment perfect” He brushed a hair strand out of your face, his touch lingering for a memory before his gaze dropped to your lips. “What’s that?” You smiled widely, already knowing what he is up to. After four months, you had figured out what he meant with that but you tagged along.

“This” The fondness in his eyes made your heart stutter and you couldn’t help but lean closer to him, capturing his lips with your own in a passionate kiss. His lips were soft, pillowy even, and you could even taste the chocolate from the hot chocolate that he had sipped on before. The kiss was filled with promises that only love could carry, the rest of the world melting away, leaving only the two of you and the quiet certainty that this was exactly where you were meant to be. When you finally pulled apart, you rested your forehead against Jisung’s, your eyes shining with joy while your boyfriend tightened his arms around you in a protective manner.

Comfortably, you leaned back and cuddled further into his embrace and the blankets that were like a fuzzy cocoon, enveloping you in warmth. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else for the rest of your life. “We have got so much more to add to this box”.

[latibulater]

i love think tank honestly i think he would have been better than a one-episode arch like his design? first of all is so fun. love his hover chair! love having another huge-head character (i wonder if billy knows of him at all). he such an emotive guy

he seems to really love teaching his non-interested students, and it's honestly very sweet imo how he reaches out to dean and suggests he avoid the tower during the time of his father's arch, and i mean you could interpret it as him saving his own reputation, but i think it's because he doesn't wish for dean to be harmed. and its funny and genuine to me the way he says to dean the essay is shit but he is one of the best students of the semester. ik when i went from home school to real school i struggled hard at first with writing papers, so i wonder if dean is the same like he's enjoying the class and is kind of grasping the concepts but he is plagiarizing by accident and has lots of run-on sentences (like this one). but it's sweet that nidaba still calls dean "one of the brightest" (even if you interpret this to be buttering up which i do not)

and he seems to be a moriarty without a sherlock from this little scene where he deducts dean's home life from different clues. i like that he says "i interpret the data" because that's much less wishy-washy then bbc sherlock. he's so handsome here genuinely

and his nietzsche quote "all great things must first wear terrifying and monstrous masks in order to inscribe themselves on the hearts of humanity." honestly is so relavent to the show and the way he is so exasperated no one knew that. professor dr. nidaba, i swear you just need a tumblr girlie in your class.

the tank just goes up? the wall?

imminent doom detected

i love how he gestures with the tank...nozzle(?) like the machine is really an adapted living device. and literally he has this awesome killer entrance to set up some chess like he literally just wants a nice game night

i feel so bad for him look

sweetheart 😭 his whole plan for the evening just got blown up like that wall. i feel so bad for him his little "who are you calling" like he's gotten in trouble 😭😭😭

but brock will play!!!! he's so excited now

and he can create a force field??? thats literally so cool. this scene with brocks arm is so funny like brock is acting a little unhinged but think tank is literally so bewildered

and who else got flirty undertones from this

and this was such a great scene him getting shot out the window while rusty's getting scammed by watch&ward. and then when warriana called think tank a "pompous son of a gorgon" a) love the insult b) their previous fights mustve been so funny think tank would use a lot of greek myth references and warriana would be like SHUT UPPPP *kicks him across the street*

look brock had so much fun with this fight and nidaba, while annoyed by warriana busting in, i think enjoyed it too! also i like this pic of him with just the undersuit.

i feel so bad for him he literally got his night fucked up by rusty's annoying silly ass and then got beat up by someone not even supposed to be there and now he's just trying to hail a cab bc his tank got trashed and then he gets WRECKED by a VAN. and what's this? stars n garters literally singing at nidaba's bedside?????

i loved this scene so much its so silly and off-beat, i love knowing that think tank's colleague/arch-rival cares enough about him to lug a guitar down to the hospital while nidaba's unconscious. WHY COULDNT WE HAVE HAD THINK TANK IN COMA TOWN?!

anyways thats about it :^) i just think it's a shame hammer&publick didn't develop or bring back think tank he's such a great and underrated character. also he doesn't even have a first name like wtf!!! i'm naming him dr. nathan (not nate!) nidaba

[miss-allsundays]

i was kind of expecting it (because of the danny motta pandemic), but the amount of people that just. write off octavia as some sort of ungrateful brat is really pissing me off.

we, as the viewers, have a much broader understanding of stolas, his life, and his relationship with stella. we are also made to look at it in a positive light for stolas, because we are shown instances of stella and her brother being the terrible antagonists they were written to be.

and most importantly, we do not have an attachment to stolas and stella’s relationship.

octavia instead, has had her life recently upended, has seen her father do a 180 change and (in her eyes) ruin his whole relationship.

her parents are divorcing, and they’re going about it in the worst way possible. they keep badmouthing each other, and they are, quite frankly, very dismissive of octavia— stolas as well, even if he doesn’t mean it.

and then, her father risks his life for the guy he destroyed his family for. and she is left with her mother and uncle, who clearly don’t have her best interests in mind.

of course stolas deserves to be happy, and of course he can love both blitzø and octavia at the same time, but what a lot of people don’t get is that she is a hurt child, who is very lonely at the moment, and who has not had the time to process everything.

instead she has to watch her dad fawn over his affair partner, talk shit about her mother even after the divorce, and then he suddenly leaves and oh! he will be banned from their house for a hundred years.

of course she holds resentment over her father!! he hurt her, just as much as her mother hurt her!!

because yes, stolas’ hatred towards his ex-wife is justified, but he has subconsciously let that feeling cloud over his love for octavia.

for a child, seeing your parents go through a divorce is really fucking tough. even if their relationship wasn’t the best, even if the love wasn’t there anymore, your parents splitting up still feels like a point of no return. as someone who went through that, i cannot tell you how many nights i spent as a teen wishing my family would go back to normal, even if the rational part of me knew that their separation was a much better outcome, and that the normal i hoped for hadn’t been that in years.

their divorce is only a couple of months old, it isn’t nearly enough time to begin getting over it, especially if you don’t have a good outlet for your emotions— which octavia doesn’t have.

and as i’ve mentioned earlier, the fact that her parents hate each other so openly is also another big fucking problem!! it does nothing but make the child in between feel bad, because they feel guilty for still caring about both of them, like their love for their parents is wrong and tainted.

(again, stella is terrible, and we can all agree on that— but octavia doesn’t know the full extent of it!! sue just wants her family back!!)

i feel for stolas, and it’s so, so obvious that he loves his daughter more than anything in this world, but i also understand why octavia wants some distance from him.

even though he didn’t mean to, he failed to think of how his daughter was holding up, until it was too late.

(and to everyone that says octavia hates her dad, go fuck yourself and pick up a pair of glasses. there is a difference between being hurt by someone’s actions and hating them. she went to IMP to give him his meds. she saved stolitz + IMP from andrealphus. learn some media literacy before you speak thanksssssssss<3 )

[moriartyluver]

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XXIX

"SO, DID YOU TELL WILLIAM?" Josephine asked as she walked through the Moriarty Manor with (Name) "you know, about your condition.." 

"What?" (Name) blinked, clearly invested in her own thoughts whilst her friend spoke. "Oh...my condition.." she paused, standing still on the stairs, her hand rubbing at her neck nervously, then moving to fidget with her hair. "see..the issue is.." She trailed off, trusting to explain. Josephine furrowed her brows, noticing a fresh bruise on her neck. 

"Oh my god." She huffed under her breath. "You didn't tell him, did you? You slept with him! Again!!" 

(Name) frowned, getting a little defensive "It's a very difficult position to be in-" 

"Oh I bet you know a lot about difficult positions.." The brunette remarked. 

"Josephine!" 

"Sorry, sorry. I've never been pregnant before, surprisingly, so I can't judge.." she hummed 

"Don't say that word out loud. If my own husband doesn't know, I'd rather nobody but you or James know either." (Name) said, moving her hand down to fiddle with her sleeve "I did try to tell him, I really did. But then he started being all flirtatious and he somehow has this way of making me feel all funny, and honestly he may be the best man I've ever had, in a weird sort of way.." 

"I'd never imagine you describing William as such," Josephine giggled "Still, how did things escalate so much..?" 

"Well, I went to his office, made some small talk about the incident with Whitely, before he was assassinated, then he starts making some jokes, and we reminisced on our university days together. He brought up this one memory I feel quite fond of, and then I realised that I must have been very..mean to him, more so than I am now. As if I crossed the line a few times, so I apologised and then we kissed, and then.." (Name) spoke very, very quickly, her demeanour flustered "Well, you know.." 

"I'd rather not know," Josephine pulled a face. To her, this was like walking in on one's parents doing it. "Also you should tell him to be more discreet..you have a huge bruise on your neck, it almost looks painful.." 

"You should see the ones I gave him." She joked, before noticing josie's flat expression. "Sorry."

She rolled her pale blue eyes, walking down the staircase with her to the lounge. "It's fine..it's quite nice to be able to gossip for once, especially with how busy things have been lately. With Fred now gone more often, I've been used as messenger girl whenever I'm available.." 

"Yes, well, we did recently confirm to the public that this urban legend of the Lord Of Crime is real..it's a shame my old persona hasn't made a return. Now she is just the Lord of Crime's wife," (Name) chuckled dryly, her silk gloves sliding across the bannisters. 

"Most women could only dream of such a thing," Josephine reassured with a soft laugh whilst they walked into the lounge whilst the others discussed matters regarding milverton. 

"..but I would never choose that option. I'll kill Milverton whether my name spread or not." William spoke, pausing as (Name) entered the room. Everyone went silent for a second or two as she sat down beside her husband, confused as to what they were discussing. 

"I'm afraid I missed a few chapters." (Name) stated calmly. "Are we really going ahead with such a plan, provided the risk?" 

"(Name)," William placed his hand on her thigh reassuringly. At this point in time, he didn't care if people knew of their odd relationship. "It was bound to happen at some point." 

"Right." She nodded stiffly. She was clearly unhappy with the idea but she couldn't say much. It was part of their contract and pre existing agreement before they started their affair — could one even have an affair with their spouse? 

"As Louis said, this mission will carry unprecedented risks, but I can't keep Milverton alive much longer." He said. (Name) honestly was quite fond of Milverton at first, but upon finding he was responsible not only for the deaths of the Whitleys, but also the Jack the Ripper scandal, she could care less if he died. She just found him intriguing. 

Sherlock used the correct means to achieve moral goals, William used unethical means to achieve moral goals and Milverton purposely would use horrible means to achieve horrible goals. 

She couldn't help but wonder why. 

Regardless, he was to die, hopefully at William's hands, because she'd rather not have Milverton be Sherlock's first kill.

"Let's take action as soon as we're ready." William stated, snapping (name) out of her thoughts. 

Louis parted his lips, about to protest before William cut him off again.  

"We all knew this was coming, Louis. It was going to happen sooner or later," He said. "It's all according to the moriarty plan." 

"So this is it.." (Name) muttered as she sat on William's bed, surprisingly clothed. 

"This is it." He repeated. "When you signed that contract, you knew it would come to this..I apologise."

It didn't exactly feel sincere when he apologised, almost as if he was speaking to an acquaintance or associate — not his wife. 

"I suppose I'll have to remarry.." She hummed. She knew she probably wouldn't, couldn't. She was finally pregnant, with an heir. That's all she needed. 

William's jaw clenched at the mere idea of another man stealing the life he wanted. "I suppose you will." He nodded, shutting the book in his hands, getting out of his chair and approaching his bed on the other side of the room. "I.." He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, like a fish. 

"I know." She looked up at him. "I know." 

He nodded, sitting down beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist apologetically whilst she rested her head on his shoulder. "Who would've thought..you and me.." 

"I never took you as the sentimental type." she laughed dryly. 

"I am a dead man walking, after all," William rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "Speaking of which..." 

"I'll pay for the funeral, don't worry. I can even have you sent to (home country) so you can have a tomb where it won't be destroyed by angry people." She said in a soft, melancholy tone. 

"That's alright. I'll let my gravesite be destroyed and ruined." He smiled. "Actually..I was thinking." 

"You always think." 

"So do you," he chuckled. "But in all seriousness, this is important. I'm going to have to ask you to do something a little bit difficult."

"I've never failed any mission you've given me," (name) reminded him. "I'm your strongest soldier." 

"That you are," He kissed her forehead. "But this isn't a physical thing..I mean, you'll pick up a pen, and write a few sentences, but it's.." William trailed off, his scarlet eyes shifting away from her and onto the equally red wallpaper. 

"What is it?" she asked curiously. 

"I'm going to need you to write a letter," He explained, rubbing her thigh. "To one of the main newspapers. I'll need you to write about how you recently discovered I was the lord of crime, how you plan to annul the marriage, and how you want the public to know you were never involved." 

He paused, looking into her eyes, searching for a reaction. She took a moment to process his words, her eyebrows furrowing in an angry glare.

"No! Why would you ask me to do such a thing? I may be a killer but I can't lie to an entire nation!" She exclaimed, standing from the bed. "I was just as involved as you were, and I've been killing since I was 16!"  

"You've lied numerous times before, I don't see how this may be any different," He pointed out. 

"But it's different—" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What am I to tell my parents? My friends? Should I just continue to live a lie after you...you.."

She couldn't even bring herself to say it. 

"You can tell your parents the truth if you like, (name). They're good people, they wouldn't cast you out." He reassured her "And it's for your own sake. What will society think of a woman who knowingly let her husband kill people? What will they think when they find out you helped too? What will they think when they find out you married me because you just wanted to keep your parents happy and the men away? This is for your sake, I only ask that you write one letter." 

"William.." She whispered his name. 

"If you don't, I'm afraid I'll have to forge one." He stated. "You're already in enough trouble with parliament and her majesty herself, what will they do to you or to (home country) if they realise you were involved, that you were the lady of crimes."

She sighed. He was right. 

"I have business to attend to in Manchester, tomorrow afternoon, which I can always say was done out of fear of my husband being upset with me. I may have time to write a letter then and send it off as soon as possible to all the newspapers possible." She rambled. "And I'm telling my parents. They're going to be in Manchester too." 

"Everything?" 

"Everything." 

"I knew something was wrong." Grand Duchess (last name) sighed. "I told you, didn't I, (Father's name)?" 

"You're right. I apologise for not believing you, my love." He rubbed his wife's shoulder, kissing her cheek apologetically. 

(Name) couldn't bear to even look at them. She kept her head bowed and her eyes on her shoes. "I'm sorry, again." 

"No, (Name). I'm sorry." Her mother reached her hand out to hold her daughter's. "So is your father. This wouldn't have happened if we.." 

"There was nothing you could've done to change anything." She reminded them. "I had to do what I did, regardless of how horrible and wrong it was.." 

Her parents shared a look, before turning to their daughter again. She looked so small, so vulnerable. It was as if she was 9 years old all over again. 

"But we should have been there." The grand duke spoke. "At such a young age, you witnessed something so traumatising, and you lost your brother too..then we encouraged you to go to Britain for the sake of your education, and didn't contact you regularly, only visiting a handful of times, and even then we weren't around long enough for you." 

Her mother nodded in agreement. "If we had been there, if we had made you feel safe and welcome with us, you wouldn't have killed as many people as you did, you wouldn't have felt the need to marry a man you despised, and you wouldn't be in the situation you are in right now." 

"It wasn't your fault.." (Name) whispered, holding back tears. "There's this man, Charles Augustus Milverton..he would spread rumours about me through a magazine he owned, solely to torment me..it just made matter worse and now he's going to expose William's wrong doings to the entire country, and that..I can't imagine how he must feel right now.." 

The grand duchess sighed. "You love him, don't you?" 

"I do." 

"For how long?" 

"I..I'm not entirely sure.." She glanced down to her stomach. "But I know that I can't let him die..I just can't." 

"There's something else you're not telling us, isn't there?" Her father asked. 

"You can tell us, we won't judge you or be upset." Her mother reassured. "We're your parents." 

"I haven't even told William..Josephine, and another close friend that I work with, they're the only ones who know..." she trailed off. "I mean, how could I tell him. I haven't even told him I love him yet..He's convinced our relationship is just a facade for the public with some extra benefits for the both of us.." 

"(Name).." 

"I'm pregnant." 

"It's a shame this comedy doesn't have an audience," Milverton laughed as William and Sherlock turned their pistols to face him, rather than pointing at each other. They had both been inside Milverton's villa for a while now, with two very different reasons yet seemingly the same outcome. "The light and dark that symbolise London..the two of them are here together." 

"Make that three." A voice spoke from behind Milverton. He glanced over his shoulder, smirking as he saw his main target, (Name) (Last name). 

His smirk widened as he noticed a gun in her hand, pointing straight at him, finger on the trigger. "It's splendid you could join us. You seem so innocent but upon further inspection, anyone could tell that you had been aiding your husband's 'activities' all along, perhaps even the match that lit the fire." 

"I'm not here for him." She assured "You know exactly what you've done." 

"I do indeed." He chuckled, watching as (Name) slowly walked through the dimly lit room so she was stood in front of him, beside William and Sherlock. "And I'm glad you turned up. I was worried, really, that you weren't going to be here when I saw your husband without you." He paused. "Can I even call him that? Your 'husband'?" 

"There are legal documents to prove it. I'm sure one of your lapdogs can retrieve them for you," she retorted. 

"Yes, legal documents." Milverton hummed. "I found a rather interesting one earlier this week...Although, not nearly as interesting as a criminal couple, even if you may not be the most romantic." 

(Name) glanced at William who didn't seem to pay her any attention apart from the initial surprise she was here despite orders given that she wouldn't. 

"It was you, wasn't it?" She asked, her finger trembling on the trigger, her hands uncharacteristically shaky "You who tried to expose me for taking down that trafficking ring, you who had my name plastered over the tabloids, and for what? I didn't do anything to you." 

Milverton's eyes darkened for a moment before he grinned again "because it's fun." 

"So are theatre productions not good enough for you anymore?" She asked sarcastically. 

He laughed. A sickening laugh.

"Why watch a measly play when I can make my own?" He smiled. "Tragedy, comedy, romance...All three seem to apply to your life." 

"What—?" 

"For example, sweet and innocent nine year old (Name), bright beyond her years, possibly the most intelligent woman, maybe even person, to ever live." Milverton continued, interrupting the woman, a bead of sweet running down her forehead. "A box turns up one day, her dead brother's head inside. How Tragic. She swears to take down the British empire, and has quite a lot of fun in the process. Most of your little boy toys ended up dead or missing, though. It was no coincidence that Theodore Arden, your little male friend, happened to have the father who ordered your brother's grizzly death. And it was no coincidence that they had been tortured to death soon after, aswell as blown up by a few bombs, how comedic." 

How did he know this? How did he know any of this? Even with a photographic memory, she still couldn't remember the exact details of all these occurrences, her brain had blocked them out for the most part. 

And (name) swore she only brushed over the surface of all this with William. Because she trusted him. She glanced at him, an expression of hurt on her pretty face, then forced her eyes back to Milverton. 

Did William tell him? 

"And of course, he wasn't the last man in your life, but he was certainly your first." He enunciated the last word, highlighting the double meaning. "I can barely count them on one hand. But then, after a strange disappearance of Lord Ashfordshire, You found the one. How romantic," Milverton looked between (Name) and William. "You were married, but seemingly didn't consummate, and I wasn't the only tabloid following your love life around, but I certainly got the most information. How would your husband," he gestured to William "feel about that?" 

"You know nothing." She hissed between clenched teeth. 

"Oh? I know nothing, do I?" Milverton chuckled. "For a genius, you make this so easy, my lady. The jokes just write themselves." 

William looked uneasy. He had long since settled in his feelings for his wife, which felt ridiculous if he said them out loud. He had confided a few times in his brothers, his friends, and he knew he was in the worst possible circumstance right now. He was in love with. And he was the Lord of crime. The Lord of crime, in love with a girl he originally perceived to be rude and spoilt and cruel and promiscuous. 

And he loved her, with his entire soul. 

"How would your husband feel, knowing he was likely your last option for a prospective husband? How would your husband feel," Milverton continued, each word leaking venom. "Knowing you only consummated your marriage because a few rumours fuelled your need to become with child?" 

William and (Name) made brief eye contact, with her looking at him apologetically. He didn't look at her with anything more than a neutral expression.

"How would your husband feel knowing you had an affair the entire time you were in (home country), towards the end of last year?"  

Her gaze could no longer linger on the blond, looking straight at Milverton with a mixture of anger and shame. 

William's eyes widened for a moment, waiting for her to say something in her defence. 

Nothing. 

To the people of The British Empire, I apologise. 

I, Lady (Name) (Last Name) Moriarty, have recently discovered something no woman would want to find. 

Recently, I had been lead to believe my husband was having an affair, due to the secrets he kept and the life he concealed. This, like most marital issues, was to be kept private. That was until I discovered something far, far worse. 

A few days ago, I had caught my husband, William James Moriarty, arriving home late, drenched in blood. Naturally, I was suspicious, and this event had led to me uncovering a truth I cannot keep to myself. 

William James Moriarty is the Lord of Crime. 

Had I known earlier, perhaps I may have been able to prevent the unjust murders of many innocent people, such as that of Adam Whitely. The guilt I feel is immeasurable, and I intend to financially compensate all those involved as well as provide evidence for this conspiracy to the authorities. 

Once again, I apologise for all the harm my ignorance has caused, 

Lady (Name) (Last Name).

"I assume this was all fabricated," Mycroft placed the newspaper back on his desk after reading from it aloud. 

"You know me so well," (Name) chuckled. "I do intend to repay all those who need it..deep down you don't really have an issue with what transpired. I know you don't." She said, her voice dropping a tone. "William himself asked me to write that, so don't think I'm sacrificing him to save myself." 

Mycroft scoffed. "Well you've never had a good history with men and their feelings." 

"Why would I? Most of the men who were involved with me in some way were all horrible. It makes no difference that I married a serial killer," she smiled, taking another sip of tea. "I have all I needed now. I won't bother you again, Mycroft dear, I assure you...although you will miss me. I was the only opponent to the British Empire who actually entertained you." 

"I don't consider destroying merchant ships entertaining," He recalled. "Or how about that time the new prime minister said something unkind to you and you set Parliament alight?" 

"First of all," (Name) defended herself. "I had valid reason for destroying those slave ships, you know very well what trades they're involved in. I'd rather not look away from such devastating practices, there are real people involved, not just figures and statistics," she argued "And second of all, that wasn't the prime minister, they were something else, Home Secretary I think, and they were very offensive to me. You know how I get when I'm angry." 

"Well at least he managed to survive." He muttered. 

"I've not killed that many people." She retorted. 

"I can't even give an exact amount, but most of the people you killed were important people, and it affected our economy, our politics, and our society in  multiple ways," Mycroft explained. "Which returns us to the main issue...Your husband — can I even refer to him as such?" 

(Name) hummed to herself "Well, I was thinking of having the marriage annulled, but William seems to have other ideas. Regardless, he is, unfortunately, still my husband and the future father of my child." 

"I gathered as much. Hopefully they don't inherit your spitefulness." He rolled his eyes. "Anyways, your husband has murdered more nobles than I can recall, some of which we still have yet to confirm. Albert has been vague with me on the issue. What do you suppose you'll do when the economy comes crashing down? What about if the people, the working class population, blame you for their issues? They'll revolt soon, riot around your family home..Now what must you do?" 

"They won't blame me if the elite don't do it first. That's how it always happens anyways, blame the marginalised when in reality, it's the rich's fault. The only reason it's causing issue is because the time between the murders has shortened to a mere few hours. Previously, it had been much longer, so another rich old man could fill the void and everyone kept their low paying jobs," she explained. "And the rioting is part of William's plan." 

"So that's it? You'll let him die and return to (Home country), have that unfortunate child, then raise it as an heir?" He asked, although she wasn't supposed to answer. "Your life would be so much better if you had married one of her majesty's sons." 

"No thanks, they're all hideous," (Name) shook her head, making a face. 

Mycroft fought back a laugh, trying to maintain his serious persona. "They are members of the royal family." 

"And the inbreeding caused their unfortunate appearances. At least William was handsome. Now I'll have a son with perfect features," She half joked. She did choose William over so many other men because of his superior breeding, which is ironic with his background as a commoner. 

"How are you so sure it'll be a boy?" Mycroft asked "wishful thinking?" 

"No, I'd much rather a girl, a sweet little girl with beautiful hair I can style, but I know, it's just my intuition. It's never been wrong," (name) flashed a smile. 

"No, I suppose not," He nodded "So, you're visiting my brother after I dismiss you?" 

"You don't get to dismiss me, but yes, I am." She said. "I need to ask him a favour." 

"Very well. We're done here," Mycroft stood up opening the door to his office. "Please keep me updated." 

"I shall." She gave him a nod, bowing her head a little before leaving "farewell, and have a nice evening."

Although that morning she had her letter published by the press, 'confessing' her lack of involvement, she knew some would not be entirely convinced. After all, who better to place the blame on than a foreign woman? Yes she was far from innocent, and she didn't exactly want to be perceived as such, only going along with William's plan for the sake of her parents and home country. 

So, she decided it would be much less likely that any rioters spot her if she secretly entered Sherlock's apartment, rather than from the front where anyone could see. He had been cleared of his murder charges that same day, now likely at home. 

(Name) peered into the window, knocking slowly after a moment. The curtains drew open, revealing a slightly amused Sherlock. He opened the window wide enough for her to enter in her cloaked disguise. She slid inside, walking towards him and pulling her hood down. 

"I wasn't expecting you, especially not like this," Sherlock laughed. 

"Well, hopefully after all this blows over, you'll expect a lot more from me," she smiled, combing her fingers through her hair. 

"Mhm..you're here about Liam, aren't you?" He asked, still remembering the incident with Milverton, but he decided against mentioning it. After the confrontation, ending in Sherlock shooting Milverton, he had heard (name) apologising to William from afar as they left, trying to get him to say something, but merely brushed her off with a claim he was busy. 

"I am." (Name) nodded. "I just finished talking to your brother actually, apologising for the whole ordeal." 

"Oh yeah, you sent that letter to the papers, right? I could tell most of it wasn't true, no wonder that brother of mine wanted to talk to you," Sherlock said, leaning against a wall. "You knew about this since the beginning." 

"And I participated too. William used me as the whistleblower because nobody would expect such things from a woman." She explained, brows furrowing. "Actually, I'm probably worse than he is. Which is why I think it's unfair that he must sacrifice himself, and only himself, for the sake of everyone else. I don't see a crown of thorns on his head, he isn't obliged to do so." 

"Classic Liam." He hummed. "So, let me guess. You orchestrated the Arden massacre, and were involved in the disappearance of Ashfordshire?" 

"Amongst other things, yes. I also was the main planner with that whole sex trafficking scandal a while back, and I was the one who set us all up on the Noahtic." (Name) confessed. 

"They never did find Ashfordshire's body..I assume you killed him though." 

She sighed, recalling the story "If you had seen what I had, you'd kill him too. It still haunts me sometimes. And although I did kill him, William dealt with the body. It was so badly damaged and wounded that nobody would recognise it even if they found it." 

"How intriguing. You know, (Nickname), I really wish I had met you sooner." Sherlock smiled. She reciprocated it with a bitter one. "So, what is the favour you're planning to ask me?"

"I don't know if Louis has already asked you to do so, he's been on edge all week so it's only reasonable to assume he's upset," She trailed off "I have my own plan, to convince William to stay, maybe just fake his death instead, I'm not entirely sure considering he hasn't been speaking to me much lately..But, if that fails, I want you to be there, when he tries to die. I want you to do everything you can to save him, and I'm sorry for asking so much of you." 

"Who's to say I wouldn't do it regardless?" His smile widened. 

(Name) let out a dry laugh. "In that case, I haven't anything to worry about.." 

"You really love him, don't you?" 

She nodded then glanced to the door, footsteps slowly creaking up the stairs. She glanced at Sherlock, nodding goodbye before climbing out the window, gripping onto a tree branch outside as he said his final words to her. 

"Congratulations, by the way. That kid's going to be a genius." Sherlock whispered. 

She hummed, a little surprised at first that he knew, but shook it off. He was the world's greatest consulting detective after all. She parted her lips to speak, but noticing the door slowly freak open to reveal William, who had yet to spot her whilst she slipped out the window, ready to return to her carriage home.

Once she arrived home, she waited in William's bedroom, that which could have been a shared one between the couple if their marriage had taken a different route. The sheets clearly hadn't been slept in for days, likely due to the recent killing sprees William had been on. Honestly, nobody had slept much recently anyways. (Name) couldn't remember the last time she had gotten in a full 8 hours of sleep without interruptions. She had been plagued by nightmares as of late, and she had too much to do so sleep seemed like a waste of time. She had made arrangements for the following morning to board a ship back to (Home country) with her parents and hopefully with William too. Her room was empty and everything was now packed away and on the ship somewhere.

William eventually returned home, darting straight to his bedroom to clean up, only to be met with (Name) waiting for him. She saw the blood staining his cheek and the tired look in his eyes which once shone so brightly, now making him resemble a corpse rather than the man she had finally come to terms with being the one she loved with all her heart. 

"The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" 

He didn't respond. 

"William?" She called out to him again, approaching him, but strangely enough it seemed there was a boarder preventing her from coming too close. "We need to talk about this whole situation...I.." she bit her lip, voice cracking as she tried to find her words. She felt nervous, reminded about how he reacted after finding out about the affair. 

"What?" William muttered softly, albeit exhausted. 

(Name) almost seemed startled at how different this current William was to how her usual William was. "I'm somewhat offended you didn't tell me about this plan of yours earlier." She said, although that wasn't really what she intended to do. It was in typical (Name) fashion, in a sense. 

William spoke again, his voice aching as he wiped some blood off his face with his palm "You had known this since the beginning, it was in the contract after all..besides, we spoke about this earlier, a few days ago when I asked you to write that letter to the press." 

"You're right..my mistake." The noblewoman whispered "The plan was that I either marry again for an heir or have a child and remain a widow." (Name) recalled, stood before William, her hands interlinked as she fidgeted with the fabric of her gloves "But..it's not what I want anymore." 

She couldn't help but become incredibly aware of how selfish she continued to sound, with every sentence, every word, every syllable. 

"Not what you want?" William repeated curiously. Although he could barely bring himself to speak, he still attempted to keep this conversation afloat, in hopes of completing one of the last phases of this plan, his final problem. 

(Name) took a deep breath "You're not dying. I prohibit it," she said harshly, her voice slowly raising, something William noticed happened every time she was frustrated. Once again, she felt selfish, but selfishness may have been the only way to counteract the selfless sacrifice of William dying. "You're not allowed to die like this when there is clearly another way!" 

"Another way?" The blond mocked "(name), there is no 'other way'! I have the blood of hundreds on my hands, and the only way to compensate for all the lives I have ruined and all the pain I have caused is by dying!" 

(Eye colour) eyes widened momentarily. (Name) took her husband's hands in hers "And you won't let me help you clean these hands?" She asked, kneeling before him as he sat on the bed. "William, please just listen to me for once!" She pleaded, begging him on her knees, an image that (Name) from a year ago would have deemed impossible.  "My parents have already heard of what we have done, I spoke to them a few nights ago, and they helped me formulate a plan in which nobody else has to die for the sake of this stupid class system!" 

"We..We can run away! We'll go to (home country) with mother and father and...and we can take Albert and Louis and Josephine and everyone else!" (Name) continued, her grasp on his hands tightening "I don't care about the tension between (home country) and this pathetic empire anymore! If any conflict breaks out, I can deal with it! I'll do anything, I just want you by my side. We won't have to worry about anything anymore, William!" 

Williams lips parted, then shut, then parted again, as if he was choosing his words cautiously before finally muttering no more than her name, in a whisper so silent that it would be overpowered by the sound of a mere draft, leaking through the window. 

"(Name)" 

She looked up at him, her eyes glassy with tears that were threatening to spill, another word and the dam would break. 

"William, please," (Name) whispered, her voice cracking, squeezing his soft hands gently "I couldn't bare it if you were to die...didn't you consider that? There's so so much to live for, even if the nobility has made you feel otherwise..." 

"(Name), please don't do this," He whispered, blinking slowly and opening his eyes once more, the ends of his eyelashes sticking together with shiny tears. 

Even being sat there now felt more torturous than any form of pain he had ever felt. William had been hurt so much to the point physical pain had no effect on him anymore. He had been smacked in cruel orphanages, kicked by passers by, cut as a result of both his pride and his namesake's sadistic nature, whipped by his own adoptive mother, and yet he was being caressed so gently, but felt this pain was much more unbearable than anything he'd ever experienced in his twenty four years of pitiful existence. 

Seeing (Name), his beloved wife, sat in front of him, begging him to continue to live, something most men around him could do without a second thought (which he felt envious of, and then guilt for his envy), was devastating.

He had considered her proposal, imagining a life where he and (name) could exist peacefully. They could read at one of the many libraries in the (Last Name) Manor, whilst (name) would teach him (mother tongue), and be by her side on her travels to various countries. He'd play chess with (name)  until she finally won against him. He's finally be able to sleep peacefully in her arms without fear for his comrades and nightmares riddled with guilt. He'd live a life without needing to stain his hands with a single drop of blood again...

And yet he couldn't.

The more William imagined a future with her, the more it hurt knowing this was simply impossible for him to have. He wasn't allowed to be happy. He wasn't allowed to move on. He had killed too many, there was no turning back, no matter how badly he wanted to do so. It was cowardly, William knew that, but so was running away and leaving England in shambles because of his own selfish plans. 

"Don't you understand, William? I'll do anything.." (Name) looked into his eyes once more "I.." she took a deep breath, voice shaky 

"I love you."