#maybe my laptop sensed that I missed them

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna Season 2 (2024) Episode 20

[be-good-to-bugs]

i wish i had the time and energy to draw more hhhh

[onmyyan]

hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.

And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.

Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.

And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.

This was just… bizarre.

“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.

Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.

He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.

“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”

It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.

“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.

Tim hums. “No, we did not.”

Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.

“Seriously?”

“What? You’re the friendly one.”

Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.

Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”

“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.

“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”

“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”

“You mean stalking.”

“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick sighs again.

“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.

‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?

“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”

“What?!”

“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.

“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.

The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.

He glances back down at his phone.

“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.

“Intrigued yet?”

Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.

He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.

Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.

Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.

Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.

A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!

He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.

Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.

Underwear_guy: Where are you?

Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.

Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.

You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.

You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 

“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.

“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”

Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.

-

George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.

Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.

Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.

Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.

You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?

You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.

…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.

You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!

“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.

Good. That was damn well good.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.

Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.

“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”

“You bit me!”

Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.

“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?

You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.

“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.

George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.

George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.

White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.

Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.

You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.

You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.

“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.

“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.

“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?

Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.

“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.

He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.

…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.

“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”

You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.

“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.

Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.

Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.

Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.

There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?

For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.

He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.

Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.

“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.

“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.

“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.

He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.

Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.

“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.

While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…

“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”

“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.

You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.

Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.

Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.

Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.

The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.

“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”

“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.

“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.

You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.

Dick doesn’t make it any better.

“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.

“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.

You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.

Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.

His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.

Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-

You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.

And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.

Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.

“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”

“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”

“And you know I always will, right?”

Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.

It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.

You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.

Your feelings must show on your face.

Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.

“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.

Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.

You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.

“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”

Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.

“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.

Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.

You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.

In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.

Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.

For now, you give him your back as well.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[awbublie]

wait my mc lore just dropped 🙀🙀

mc lore is here >.< fret not!!

they are a glorified self-insert i am shameless and will insert myself into my favorite media!!!

though she isn't a complete rip-off of me, maybe like 60% me

though i do love napco figurines

(edit: im so stupid and thought mx stood for mexican😭😭😓)

relationship charts!!!

caught mc on a good day!:

essentially means mc got a higher score than 60 on a test and just got a sweet treat.

feeling like contributing to society, she helps this rando return a phone.

seven:

both work with computers, he's just levels ahead of them.

inferiority complex kicks in til he starts helping her with assignments and omg im in love with this man.

likes his jokes and his robots are sooooo cool, "you think you can make one look like this? :3" insert image

calls him so he can practice his english and she can practice her korean.

the flirty banter really kicks up and they get their hopes up

gets butthurt day 8 when he turns them down.

jaehee:

desperate for female friends mc is overly-sweet and clingy.

jaehee is overwhelmed and explains in order for them to be proper friends time is needed.

they are now bonding over coffee beans and how mc brought some from her last Mexico trip

i WANT THEM TO LIVE TOGETHER SO BAD

yoosung:

misses her siblings so he's the closest to a little brother.

finds out guys don't typically like that when you tell them that, especially if they are older.

they make up and bond over their no-life life

trains in LOLOL for the next couple days bc DANG IT SHE WILL PLAY IN HIS LOBBYS!!!!

share shoujo recs

zen:

when he flirts at first, her heart flutters.

till jaehee gives her the warning, and atp jaehees word is bible

finds him silly but like in a older man kind of way

finds his costumes interesting and asks about the type of fabrics they use

during 707 route, she leans into the whole big sister zen and LOVES IT

jumin:

not too big with rich people and was quick to form an opinion

finds out ab Elizabeth and everything that they had thought gets thrown out the window WHAT A NICE MAN!

til shes asking about the area and he says something along the lines of "why move to a country you know nothing about? You are simply asking to fail. "

YEAH HES RIGHT BUT HE DIDNT HAVE TO SAY THATTT 😭😭😭

is bitter for the next 2 days before she gets over it

caught mc on a bad day!:

felt with the daddy issues (we cannot control our fathers we have nothing to do with our father's errors they do not define what we do or who we become we can disagree with them and still love them)

the professor was moving too quickly during class, her computer was working, she fell behind and her brain is fried. it feels like it's been happening more and more....honestly it feels easier just to rot in bed sleeping.

getting a random message just worsens her mood. "i cant even help myself and im supposed to help you?" rolling over to try to make sense of the class notes.

saeran:

got kidnapped and had their laptop open

"you follow me on github?"

mc BEGS for him to teach them everything he knows

ends up becoming an intern and moving their classes online

but wait...this guy is lwk kinda cute....

and he's taking the time to teach me??? >.<

blind to their situation mc follows instructions and fufills small tasks

saeran gives her badge "ID:10T"

cleaning his code to filling up the office waterbottle, all in payment for bootcamp-saeran™

V:

reminds her of a teacher she had once, ick

finds him to be kind of a doormat, but so is she

doesn't enjoy seeing how others might view her

(707 route bc i forgot to mention him there) can't help but feel sorry for him, she may not trust him but i mean cmon they can't help but feel bad dude lost his fiance and now seems like he can't keep his life together

rika:

again, desperate for female friends, but this one IS SO DIFFERENT

this is like when you make eye contact with someone of a similar group and you kinda expect automatic friendship but they are cold to you

mc is either ignorant of mint eyes operations or is slowly being indoctrinated, they don't meet rika very often.

they form a kind of bitterness towards her, rooted in her insecurities

"how can someone be so loved?" "how can someone just 'create' a world of their own" "whats so special about her, i'd be able to do something like that too"

by only hearing of her through saeran they feel so insignificant to her influence, it weakens them

[livwritesstuff]

not exactly a happy one, and vaguely inspired by some stuff going on in my personal life

Eddie is pretty much constantly in awe of his oldest daughter Moe.

Granted, he’s in awe of all three of his kids, albeit for different reasons across the board, but Moe in particular because of how nothing gets to her. It’s kind of crazy, honestly, the way she can roll with the punches – it’s actually very Steve-like, and she's basically his double so that makes sense, but where Steve was doing it out of necessity, Moe seems to be innately unbothered by even the worst that life has thrown at her, and in all his years of raising her, there have been only two occasions where Eddie has seen Moe unable to immediately shake something off.

The first time was when the girls got their results back from at-home genetic tests and found out that Moe has a different bio-dad from her younger sisters.

The second time is now, after Moe learned that she didn’t pass the Bar Exam.

She didn't react great, obviously, and Eddie can admit his dismissive, "No way," when she told them probably hadn't helped at all but, in his defense, she made it through law school with as close to flying colors as one can get in goddamn law school, and she's been working her ass off studying for the Bar, so none of them had expected her to not pass. When she only looked blankly at her laptop screen for a moment before saying, "Fuck, I failed," as her head fell into her hands...yeah, Eddie sort of thought she was kidding.

"C'mon Moe," he'd continued after his entirely tactless no way, "Don't fuck with us about this."

And Moe had just given him a betrayed kind of look before shoving her chair out from the table and storming away.

A moment or two later, Steve had mumbled, "Shit, she actually didn't pass," sounding a bit perplexed as he looked at Moe's laptop like the big, red FAILED might suddenly change to something else.

They gave Moe a couple minutes before following after her.

“Hon,” Steve begins when they find her sulking (in the laundry room, of all places), “I’m sorry. I remember from my psych stuff what this shit is like. I get how –”

“No, you don’t!” Moe exclaims, “You don’t get it because you passed your test on the first fucking try even though you’ve got, like, brain damage or some shit.”

Moe misses the hurt look that passes over Steve’s face for a moment before he’s able to mask it.

Eddie does not.

“That’s how low the–”

“Alright,” Eddie interrupts, and he tugs Moe back by the hood of her sweatshirt, ignoring her protests as he begins ushering her down the hall and out the door.

He corrals her all the way out to the car parked in the driveway, opens the passenger-side door with one hand and shoves Moe into the car with the other.

“What the–” Moe protests. 

“Can it,” he cuts her off, slamming the door on whatever retort she might have had for him.

Once he's in the driver's seat and the car is rumbling to a start, he turns to look at her.

“I understand that you're upset, Moe. I really do, but you do not get to take that out on Pop,” Eddie told her, “He’s way too good to you for that.”

Moe has the decency to look somewhat mollified even though she doesn't saying anything (which has always been a tell-tale sign that she knows she's in the wrong), and as Eddie throws the car in reverse and starts backing out of the driveway, she curls in on herself, leaning against the car door.

Eddie drives for a while with no real destination in mind (same as twenty-something years ago when Moe was a baby and Eddie would drive aimlessly around Cambridge in the hopes she'd maybe doze off).

After ten or so minutes of silence, Moe quietly says, “Literally everyone else I was in school with passed.”

Eddie glances at her, and does a double-take when he sees that she’s scrolling on goddamn Instagram. He reaches over to yank her phone out of her hand and toss it behind him into the depths of the back seat where it lands with a questionable clatter.

“Dad – what the fuck?” Moe looks at him, “If that’s broken now–”

“Then we get it fixed,” Eddie replied, “Or we buy another one. I don't care. Moe – when the fuck did you ever give a shit about other people?”

Moe gives a minute shrug as she looks away again.

“It’s been a point of contention with you basically since birth,” Eddie continues, “Seriously, it’s – and do not tell your father I said this, but it’s my favorite thing about you and I never want it to change.”

Again, Moe mostly ignores this.

"I get that this is disappointing and I get that it’s a setback and there's nothing any of us can say to make it better, but take it from someone who needed three tries to graduate high school — screw everyone else. Screw 'em. It's okay if something takes a little longer than you wanted it to.”

Eddie pauses, because there’s a lot he’s not saying here, stuff about how his third try at his senior year was hell on earth in pretty much every way possible, but how he also knows that if he hadn’t gone through it he wouldn’t have made life-long friends in Robin and Nancy. He wouldn’t have Steve and he wouldn't have everything about their life together the way it is today.

He settles on adding, “Sometimes you get a whole lotta good out of it in the end.”

After a moment, Moe actually nods, which Eddie takes as a victory.

"So...take the time you need to be disappointed or sad or angry or whatever. When you’re feeling better – or even when you’re not – you gotta apologize to Pop, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eddie glances at her again.

"You wanna stop and grab stuff to make margaritas?" he asks.

"God, yes."

[ghostboneswrites2]

I really resonated with Daryl x abused reader could you maybe do one where the reader doesn’t let their past define them and shows little signs of abuse like they’re super cheery and happy and doesn’t let their past get them down and but maybe reader has a ptsd attack by Daryl after he confronts her about being so happy especially in an apocalypse and they just realize they relate to each other even if they’re personalities are so drastically and Daryl just comforts reader 🫂

The Painted Bunting

Era: Greene Farm

Summary: Daryl is paired with you on the search for Sophia and snaps at you after growing tiresome of your seemingly endless kindness.

Note: No more laptop for now since the cord broke so I hope you’ll all forgive the lack of my usual post formatting :(

Warnings: profanity, mentions of past abuse, grumpy sassy asshole Daryl (the man we originally fell in love with)

Banner credits on this post

        Shining hair in the rays of the sun, an infectious laugh, a beaming grin that never seemed to dissipate. A glowing beacon in the dark. That was what you were. And, admittedly, it got under his skin a little, so Daryl tended to avoid you. You weren’t oblivious to it, but you accepted it for what it was. After all, you couldn’t win them all, right? 

        You had always been that way; soft, gentle, graceful, kind. If you had never let the past change that for you, you certainly wouldn’t let present day events change it, either. Maybe the world had become a nightmare, but that didn’t mean you had to be one too. 

        Daryl thought that what really gritted his teeth about you was that through everything that had happened, you never changed a single bit. Not like the others had; not like he had. 

        After the world fell, after the camp by the quarry was overrun, after the CDC, after Sophia had gone missing, you remained exactly the same. For all of the afore mentioned, Daryl found you to be one of the most vexing people he ever had the displeasure of interacting with, second only to Shane, who could have easily been traded off for his own brother, Merle.

        Needless to say, he was peeved at the idea that you were sent on search duty with him after he hurt himself in the ravine. Rick decided a buddy system would be beneficial to all of the search party participants, and you volunteered to tag along, because of course you did.

        You weren’t so much looking forward to spending so much one on one time with the man, yourself. You didn’t necessarily have an issue with him, but you were all too aware of the issue he seemed to have with you. Really, you couldn’t relate to him at all. Not everyone around camp was perky and sweet, and rightfully so, but Daryl was such a brooding presence and you just couldn’t put yourself in that frame of mind.

        The two of you had set out just after dawn and the hours ticked by as you made friendly conversation and Daryl occasionally offered you a measly grunt in response. 

        “Do you think we’ll find anyone out here?” You asked. “I mean, aside from Sophia. I know we’ll find her.”

        “Pro’ly better if we don’t find nobody else.” Was his first verbal response all day. You shrugged. 

        “I don’t know. Could be good. I’m sure there are people who could really use some help.”

        “Ain’t our problem.” He argued. “Gotta look out for our own. The hell you worried about helpin’ strangers for when we ain’t even found the little girl we’re after?” 

        “Oh, no.” You chuckled nervously. “It’s not that I was just —“ You cut yourself off, sensing an oncoming ramble. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

        “Mm.” He hummed, pausing his footsteps to take a breath and scan his surroundings. After a moment, he continued forward, and you followed without question . Admittedly, you had no clue how to track, so if anything you were there in case he got hurt.

        “So, if someone needed your help… You wouldn’t help?” You asked innocently.

        He whipped around to face you, the aggression behind his motion drawing you to a dead stop.

        “The hell’s your problem, huh?” He snapped. You blinked. “It’s the end of the goddamn world and you’re askin’ me about some hypothetical moral dilemma? Let me tell you somethin’, girl; ain’t no damn morals in the apocalypse. Ain’t no more law and order! It’s just us,” he paused, sending an arrow through the skull of a walker that had crept up behind you. You flinched and turned to watch its carcass thud on the forest floor. “And them.” He concluded. 

        “I—I was just making conversation.” You mumbled timidly. 

        “Why? It’s not a social call! We’re out here to find that little girl. This is why I didn’t need no damn babysitter.” He complained.

        “I was just trying to be nice.” You defended.

        “Nice?” He scoffed. That simple word seemed to trigger something in him as his eyes lit up with aggravation. “Don’t you get it? It ain’t about bein’ nice anymore. It’s about survival. Got dead people standin’ up and eatin’ people and you’re worried about bein’ nice. Walkin’ around passin’ out water and food and gigglin’ with everybody like we ain’t got a bunch o’ dead bodies stumblin’ around us just waitin’ to take a bite out.” 

        Maybe it was the way he raised his voice, or the way his eyes shot flaming daggers of fury right through your chest, or the way he threw his arms down and spat words at you like you were some puny, wretched little thing. You didn’t know what it was, but somewhere in the whirlwind of heated exchange, his voice slowly blended together with the other voice — the one that still lived in the back of your mind and ate away at you every day.

        The voice that belonged to your own father, the one person who struck true, genuine fear in you. Before you knew it, that old sensation of real terror, the one you’d buried somewhere deep inside you and covered with cement, was breaking free and engulfing you. 

        You were frozen, like a fawn under the scrutinizing gaze of a predator. The humid air felt like a thick paste as you struggled to gulp it down and catch a breath. At first, Daryl felt inclined to criticize your tears as a show of weakness, fragility, inability to handle a little raise of the voice. He quickly noticed, however, that this was no simple burst of reactionary emotions. No, this was something much deeper and it was rattling you to the core. There was a distant look in your wide eyes, one that he came to recognize, even if it took him a minute. 

       He shifted on his feet, scanning you, unsure how to intervene. 

        “Hey.” He eventually called out, but it was clear his voice wasn’t reaching you. This was the final piece of confirmation he needed. You were having an episode, the kind he experienced a few times when he first got out of his father’s abusive home. 

        He sighed and grabbed your trembling shoulders. You jumped but you didn’t flee or strike out. His touch seemed to dry you out and shrivel you up like a raisin. You shrank into yourself, hyperventilating. 

        “C’mon.” He said softly, ushering you done to your knees. “Hey. Ya gotta breathe.” 

        Your breathe only became more shallow and forced. Tears poured down your cheeks as your chest got tighter. 

        “Just breathe. That’s the only way it’s gonna stop.” He urged. He went to grab your wrists but you panicked, snatching your arms away and falling down on your back. 

        “No! Get away! You can’t do this anymore! I’m not a little kid!” You cried out.

        You were making quite a bit of noise by this point, between the gasps for air and the sobs. He crouched over you and grabbed your shoulders. 

        “(Y/N), ya ain’t there anymore. Wherever it is, it’s gone. In the past. It’s just you and me right now, and we ain’t there. We’re here.” He soothed, hoping his voice could find you somewhere in the abyss. “Just listen. Ya hear that? It’s a Painted Bunting. Look,” he pointed up into a tree at a bright multicolored bird, similar in its beauty to a parrot, only much smaller. “It’s right up there. Ya see it?” 

        Your breathing had started to slow down now, those shallow inhales finally reaching a little deeper within. Your eyes lazily followed his finger to the bright little bird singing a flute-like melody. 

        “Ya see it?” He asked again. You managed to nod once, still holding your arms tightly to your chest as you laid flat on the bed of leaves and twigs. He took a moment to see you, to really take you in, and he realized you were beautiful. Not just in the way a pretty girl with a nice personality was beautiful, but in a way that left so much of who you really were unsaid.

        “Just watch it.” He whispered, glancing back up at the feathered creature, hoping it would stick around long enough to bring you back down to earth. “They take two years to look that pretty. Did ya know that?” He asked, glancing back down at you. Your eyes were still on the bird, but you shook your head no. “Yeah. Only the males, too.” He added. “Otherwise, they’re just kinda greenish and yellowish.” 

        Once your chest was rising and falling with a steady rhythm, you finally looked over at him. Humiliation began to set in. You quickly sat yourself up and brushed the dead foliage away from your clothes and hair. 

        “I’m sorry.” You mumbled. “That hasn’t happened in a long time.” 

        “‘S okay.” He shrugged, standing himself back up as well. “Happens.”

        “Yeah, we’ll, it shouldn’t. Not nowadays.” 

        “Can’t help it when it does.” He assured you. “I get it.”

        “Maybe I should head back.” You suggested.

        “We both can. If ya wanna. It’ll be dark soon anyways.”  

        “I don’t wanna make you lose your trail or.. Ya know.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

        “Nah. Ain’t no use after dark, anyways. We’d just be stumbling in circles and bumpin’ into each other.” He insisted, contrastingly soft in comparison to before your episode. 

        “Oh. Right.” You nodded. Just as you got ready to turn back toward the farm, he cleared his throat.

        “Ya wanna talk about it?”

        “About what?” You turned back to him. He shifted his weight anxiously, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Offering an ear to listen was at least ten yards outside the perimeter of his comfort zone. “About that?” You asked. “That was nothing. Just something stupid that happens sometimes. That’s all.”

        While his tone was much kinder and warmer than before, yours was cold, dull, and tired. Those episodes could take a lot out of a person, and he was no stranger to that fact. 

        “Sometimes it helps.” He said. “Talkin’ about it. Makes it a little less…” He trailed off, searching for the word he wanted. “Less, uh… Consuming.”

        “It never gets less consuming.” You argued.

        “It does.” He insisted. 

         “And how would you know?” You asked, impatience lacing your words.

        “I used to get ‘em too.” He admitted. “Been awhile but… I just get it. That’s all.”

        You studied him. In all the weeks you’d spent around the man, you’d never seen him so genuine, or really so open. He never seemed to look at you like another person. You were always just another load on his shoulders. 

        “My dad.” You finally spoke. He nodded.

        “Me too.” 

        “I’m sorry.” You sympathized.

        “Me too.” He agreed. 

        “We should go.” You sighed, turning away again. 

        This time you didn’t wait for him, you just started walking, until he called out behind you; “‘M sorry.” You stood still, but you didn’t look back. He knew he had your attention, though, and he knew he had to say something else. “I know I did it this time. I shouldn’t’ve yelled at ya like that.”

        “It’s okay. Maybe you were right.” 

        “Nah.” He shook his head, taking slow steps to catch up to you. “I wasn’t. It’s good. Ya didn’t let none of that shit make ya bitter. Keep it that way. Else you’ll end up a grumpy redneck.” He joked. You suppressed the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

        “Maybe the grumpy rednecks of the world got it figured out.” You said, walking again once you felt him catch up. 

        “Nah. I don’t know shit about shit.” He admitted, eliciting a small laugh from you. You shook your head.

        “I don’t think anyone does.” You reasoned.

        On the hike back to the Greene farm, you two shared some light banter, some stories of the past, some laughs and extended looks. He grew finder of you that day. The critical glares he’d send you from a distance were replaced with admiration and respectful nods. You’d often catch him looking and flash him a big smile, waving at him before you attention was drawn elsewhere. 

       You both learned that maybe the two of you were differently colored fruit, but you grew from the same tree, and you weren’t so different after all. And, that sentiment was never lost or forgotten. It carried with you for as long as you two knew each other. 

Taglist || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

[muniimyg]

falling in love 》 series m.list

note: for the sake of timelines ,, let's say this extra takes place around ch 5 !!! the text (pic 1) is considered part 1 for this extra <3 hope that makes sense !!!

warnings: implied smut !!! jk is abt to eat her out lol

taglist request: CLOSED

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

//

“Oh, what the fuck? How’d you get in?” 

Jungkook’s eyes are barely open, but he is already lifting his covers for you to join him. He can’t help but offer you a sleepy smirk as you undress your outside layer. Eyeing your thin and flimsy pajamas, you attempt to sound strict and lay the boundary for tonight.

“Stop looking at me like that…” You warn. “Jungkook, we are not fucking.”

He puts his hands up, pouting innocently. “Can we revisit the topic after your meeting?”

You glare at him. 

“... Fine,” you huff, settling beside him. Jungkook feels instant relief as he reaches for your body and pulls you closer. 

Happily, he wraps his arms around you, resting his head on your stomach. He has waited for this all day. It was the one thing he was looking forward to. Even if you didn't come, he was looking forward to dreaming about it. Yet, here you are... Holding him like he's all yours.

Which he is.

The placement is just a little shy under your boobs, so you can’t blame him when he sneakily slides his hand under your shirt and squeezes them. 

“Jungkook!” you laugh, playfully pushing him away. “Seriously? Just wait an hour.”

“So we are fucking after your meeting? In an hour to be exact?”

You purse your lips at him. “Pookie, can’t you just behave?”

He ponders. Then, he remembers he doesn’t give a shit. 

“When does your meeting start?” He asks. 

You reach over for your laptop and turn the screen on. Reading the time, you shrug at him in response. “Hmmm... In like 20 minutes.”

“20 minutes is enough time,” Jungkook insists, giving you no time to escape. Hastily, he places small and sweet kisses on your lips and then on your cheeks. 

Giggling, you push him off with a groan. “Yah, Jungkook—”

“Oh come on, pookie! Did you really think my back was the only thing that was gonna get rubbed tonight?”

Your mouth drops. 

Jungkook laughs heartily as you roll your eyes at him and complain about his unhinged behaviour. Once your whining dies down, he pulls you even closer and sinks into your body. He holds you tight as you rub his back. 

“Were you napping to ignore your problems?” you ask him quietly. “And can you—holy shit—I can’t breathe! Do you have to hold me so tight?”

It feels like your bones are about to be crushed. Jungkook’s body is warm and so fucking beefy. It’s comfortable and all but wow do you need some air. In response, he buries his face in your body, tightening his grip. You let out a squeal. 

“Yes,” he murmurs. “If I don’t, you might run away.”

Dramatically, you gasp for air. “J-Jungkook, I won’t run away. I’m in my pajamas. I’d have to get dressed first, of course!”

Your joke doesn’t amuse him. 

“When I fall asleep… You might leave.” Jungkook says, revealing his hidden feelings. 

You bite your inner cheek, navigating through your feelings. Honestly, his room was warmly lit… It’s pretty chilly tonight… Not to mention that it is getting kind of late… Maybe you should stay the night. Although it’s kind of funny he assumed you were going to leave. Never have you ever done that to him. Never ever could you do it. 

“I’ll only leave if you snore.” You tease him, booping his nose. “Also, I didn’t know you were such a light sleeper."

He scrunches his nose in response. “Now you know. Take note for next time,” Jungkook yawns. “And yeah… I didn’t know if you were actually coming so I thought I would just sleep off my bad mood.”

“Did it work?”

Jungkook lets out a drowsy-like chuckle. “No. You woke me up.”

“Geez, okay… I’ll leave—”

Jungkook plops up on his elbows and hisses, “Shut up and listen to my day, woman. You’re the only good thing in my life so you’re not allowed to leave. Don’t even joke about that. God, you’re so fucking mean—”

You cup his cheeks and bring his lips to yours. Kissing him gently, you add another peck as you pull away. Holding his face close, you kiss his cheeks and murmur, “Hmmm, sorry, sorry…”

He huffs, pouting for another kiss. You give in. 

Then, he begins to ramble about all the things that made his day so horrible. 

You lay there, rubbing his back, and offer a few, “Mhmm,”’s “Oh, seriously?” and a few, “Eww. No, you’re so right. That sounds awful. I’d be upset too.” Listening to his tired voice makes you sleepy. Not that he’s boring but more because it was so soothing. That’s something you would have never admitted a few months ago…

But things change. 

He changed.

You changed too. 

Unexpectedly, being together is so comforting. Despite being each other's pain in the ass, you two were always there for each other. You two, for some odd reason, have begun to need one another. 

Each other’s warmth, each other’s touch, and each other’s presence—all of it. 

God, you two just made everything better for one another.

If falling in love was a feeling… This is it. 

Being with Jungkook is so easy.

Like... You never understood when people said that about their significant other, but now you do. The weird part is... He isn't even yours.

It's like whenever you have issues that are blown up in your head, he doesn’t try to find solutions. Instead, he listens and helps you reflect. Jungkook has a good understanding of what is his to handle and honestly? He handles you well. 

Besides, being with you is his favourite part of living. It’s as if his body wasn’t aching from the 4 hour long soccer practice. It’s as if nothing mattered because at the end of the day—if it meant that he could be with you. 

Your meeting goes smoothly. Jungkook behaves (let’s give him a gold star!) and at one point, he falls asleep. His little snores made you roll your eyes, but it didn’t motivate you to leave. If anything, it’s the reason you stayed. When the call ends, Jungkook slides his hands down your shorts and chuckles. 

“Forgot to eat dinner,” he claims, peaking with one eye. “Lemme eat that pussy…”

You blink at him. 

He returns your look with a pout. 

“Pretty please?”

You stay still. 

Then, he huffs and abruptly gets up. “You’re so annoying,” Jungkook groans as he walks to his door. Just as he’s about to leave, he makes his final comment. “Do you know how hard it was to not eat you out while you were being all cute and academic? I behaved and now I’m starving. I’m gonna make some food. You craving anything—oh fuck yes.”

Jungkook’s words are cut off as you fling your panties onto his face. 

He blinks at you, scrunching your panties in his hands. His eyes almost fall out of his head as you open your legs and lean back against his headboard. Oh, god... He is so lucky. Today truly is the best day of his life.

Jungkook watches with steady eyes as you lift your flimsy top to expose your breasts. Then, you put your hands to your sides and grip his bed sheets. He loves the way you look right now... It's mesmerizing.

Therefore, Jungkook wastes no time.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you..." He praises your body, more than ready to dive in. You roll your eyes at him but secretly love this. You know you do. You feel it between your legs and even in your heart.

He positions himself in between your legs and kisses your inner thigh. As he begins, you grip his hair with one hand and whimper, "y-you... Craving you."

[thenewrises]

aw man another brain ramble (part 3) (18+ MDNI)

14DWY DAY 4 DROPPED!!!! YIPPEEE!!!!

so i spent some time replaying the game to find some info and went through my old posts because some stuff is new! i also have guess ren’s name and idk whether i got it right or not HOWEVER if i do get it right nobody will know… i’ll take it to the grave.

anyways some fun things in day 4, i feel like we’re finally getting into the LORE. which is exciting because one of the reasons i became so invested was the lore we would get on the blog.

ren likes to draw in his free time, that’s a fun tidbit. mysterious ink and mysterious black smoke? interesting… angel having flashbacks about their childhood the more time they spend with ren? LOVE IT.

parts 1 and 2 are here!

anyways with new content i have new observations! i am going down the "let's make him better not worse" route so keep that in mind in this post. i’ve gone through the blog again and hopefully haven’t missed too much, so let’s goooooooo

14 Days With You belongs to @14dayswithyou and @cutiesigh!

1. The Black Smoke

i have to admit i’ve gotten the bad ending without meaning to, because usually aren’t we supposed to want to move in with ren? he wants us to stay right?

not today!

this obviously has something to do with the main factor as the black smoke. what is the black smoke? it’s not a hallucination, and ren seemed EXTREMELY invested in it. and, not only that, he seems perplexed by it. what is the black smoke?

nobody is supposed to live on that floor with him, and even he has no idea about it. he becomes almost extremely fixated on it, and even distracted enough that if you tell them you want to stay at his house he barely pays attention.

it almost seems as if someone is incinerating something in there, but what?

something to point out is a lot of ren's scars are from burns, as fire has something to do with his past. i think i've talked about it before but in case i haven't, i have a belief that ren may have burnt down his childhood home in the past.

could the black smoke be an omen? we can see it as well, so it's not a hallucination of his mind. but this brings me to my next idea of what the black smoke could be.

2. His Computer

if while looking around you decide to peak into his computer, you get a conversation. i think their laptop is connected to their phone, because we can see a one way conversation as if ren had sent something to someone and then answered.

i believe this is river! as there is literally no one else ren would willingly talk to and even that is a rarity. however, confiding in someone with this kind of information seems like something he would say to river.

o - olivia

we know that river knows olivia from this relationship chart, and we've already run into her a few times. however, if she is involved in their past one way or another, she may have some of her own secrets. for one, she refers to ren in quotations, as if not believing their name, and river has been having issues of her following him around. could olivia be the killer? could olivia have something to do with their line of business?

"didn't we... u know?"

olivia isn't dead, so did they threaten her? blackmail her? hurt her?

it seems from my perspective that olivia may have rented out that apartment space and that smoke could be her doing.

we don't get a whole lot of information after that, since river or ren accessed and shut off the messaging app. but it seems olivia plays a bigger part than we thought.

3. What Is "It"?

this is the one that gets me thinking, because in the chat messages we hear about something river refers to as "that thing" and "it".

my first thought was olivia, but that made no sense because they had been properly referring to her and ren probably has no need to stay connected with her.

would this maybe be what's connected to the black smoke?

i haven't seen anything supernatural or non-human in this game, but the first thought i had was that it's some kind of entity. but, if there is nothing non-human in this game then what is ren in contact with? who? what happens when ren makes the thing mad?

it could be connected to his job, or something from his past entirely. one thought was maybe taylor, but why would he be in contact with his father? last time we heard, he has little to nothing to do with his family anymore.

What Is It?

4. The Drawings

something i learned is ren can draw! seems he likes to in his spare time. although angel seemed a bit concerned, as his drawings are not as light and romantic like the web comics they read, but... darker.

ren obviously connects with this gloomy character, who seems to be the main love interest in "always with you". my guess is he depicts gloomy and the MC as those characters, but gloomy specifically connected with them.

ren's inner turmoil is much more extreme then i considered, it feels as if he thinks he is always being watched. he purposefully isolates himself, but we know from childhood they were severely neglected by his father. maybe his father is those eyes, continuously tormenting them due to him not wanting to turn out like taylor.

some final thoughts

i may do another post when i get the time to look through more stuff and try connecting the dots, but this is what i have for now! i hope these coming days are more lore involved because it's been so fun to try and decode stuff.

another thing i didn't mention was the locked box, but there wasn't anything significant there. a ring is the key, so maybe we can get our ring from childhood back soon.

this may have been my favorite day thus far, and i'm excited for more in the future! i think i've been with this game fore around two years now, so i probably will stick around til the end.

[thecountoflondonfansite]

Though someone this Miss Ito did know Henry Jekyll. Did his brother's new boyfriend get this woman to look into him? If so, why didn't this man just ask Dr.Two-Brains about himself? This raised more questions than it answered. Maybe Henry didn't have the courage to look into his brother after he gave him a little 'friendly' talk. Yet the thinly veiled threats Victor had made shouldn't have been enough to get the teacher looking into Dr.Two-Brains. There was also the fact that Henry had no idea that Victor could find out who was hacking. Perhaps the man was intelligent enough to have the heat on someone else just in case they were found out, but he didn't seem like the type to do so. Especially to someone he had entrusted The Society to. Victor was going to have to get a few agents to take a little trip to check out why they decided to hack like they did. Maybe Robert Lanyon had someone to do with Miss Itos hacking. It would be expected when the man's father had been murdered. Perhaps he wanted to make sure that Henry was safe. Maybe this man was protecting Henry from someone who was threatening him. This could've had the culprit retaliate against the doctor by going after Henry or Robert could be responsible for his own father's murder and for Mr. Carew's attempted murder. The reason both Mr. Hyde and Henry left could be because Robert was threatening one and framing the other. Victor felt a headache coming on. For now, he was going to find out exactly where Robert was. If he wanted to take over The Society, he would've easily done so. Yet he didn't, instead only oversaw important business. He couldn't scratch any of his theories out just yet. He didn't know what was going on, but he was going to find out. He didn't realize that Eris had finally gotten home. He didn't notice the sound of the apartment door opening and closing. “Victor, are you okay? You look like you're stressed about something.” He expressed his concern, brows furrowed. “Eris! I'm fine. I was just overthinking some things.” Eris went over to Victor and placed a kiss on his temple. “Get some rest, my sweet. You'll be able to figure things out better with fresh eyes.” Victor smiled at his boyfriend. “You're right. I'll take a nap. If you'll join me.” Eris smiled at that. He found Victor endearing. The toymaker closed his laptop. Meanwhile in another part of the city, two people were arguing. “Must you stalk these people? I would rather not have the police sniffing around if they take legal action.” The woman shook her head. “It is necessary. I must save that girl from that horrid man. Who knows what he could do to them. I'm doing what is right.” The blond man shook his head. “You admitted that you were interested in our plan.” Calvin frowned at that. “I didn't do anything too crazy. I promise.” Athena muttered under her breath. Athena began to pace a bit. She wanted Dr.Two-Brains to break and admit who he is. “You're making me dizzy, cousin.”

Athena gave a weak glare towards Calvin's rudeness. "You know I can't help it. I haven't been the same after what that demon did to me!" Athena snapped back. Calvin merely huffed. Deep down, he couldn't help but feel some intimidation from the mouse man, especially when he knew what that abomination was capable of. At first, Calvin was shocked to hear what the man did to his cousin. He had always viewed Steven, or Gene, or whatever it called himself, as a sniveling worm with goody moral ethics. He never thought that the man was capable of doing something that heinous, even with his paternal instincts heightened. Things made much more sense to Calvin once he learned of his former coworker's family background. "Very well. Continue with your plans. I have other matters to attend to." Calvin exclaimed in a haughty tone, waving off Athena's anger. Athena gave him a suspicious look. "What are you planning that is more important than my mission?" She inquired. "Well why you have been playing vigilante stalker to a babysitter and her charge, I have been looking into the reason for the Mad Science League's sudden movement here." Calvin explained. Athena looked surprised at that. "Adrian Barton is here?" The B.E.A.W labs' leader has expressed interest in the mysterious Mad Science League. A small group of scientists lead by a self proclaimed immortal man whose made it his mission to fight against tyranny and corruption of the higher classes. Adrian Barton and his associates had proven too slippery for capture due to the man's chaotic and unpredictable movements. Athena was curious and confused as to why he came here of all places. "We don't know why he is here or what business he has, but for some reason he has made himself more open in public though he has maintained a cautious guard. I last saw him talking with Professor Doohickey, though I highly doubt the reason he came to this city was to help the man's predicament." Calvin answered as if he seemed to understand what his cousin was thinking. "Do you think it has something to do with the murder of Mr. Hastie Lanyon?" Athena asked as she recalled hearing about the murder. Calvin shook his head. "I doubt Barton was behind that. He has a clear hatred for the rich and elite, but he would have been more subtle in killing that man, actually making it look like a robbery in progress that went bad. There is another reason why Mr. Barton is here. One in which I intend to find out. So hopefully your antics won't interfere in my mission. Good day Athena." Soon Calvin walked away, leaving the deranged woman to her own thoughts and delusions. "Blimey! Those cleaners know how to clean out goop stains. It looks brand new." Hyde exclaimed in a joyous tone once he received his outfit from Rachel. "Yep. It appears people getting their clothes ruined by goop is a common occurrence around here. So they developed a new way to remove the stains and residue even thought it takes a lot of time. It's definitely well worth it. I must say." Rachel replied with agreement. Hyde ginned widely at his clean outfit. He then looked back towards Rachel. "So, anything happened while ah was gone?" Hyde inquired. Rachel quickly shook her head. "Not really. Like I said, we waited a long time at the cleaners. Also Wordgirl showed up trying to stop a robbery caused by Lady Redundant Woman. She gave a wave to Amber before she flew off. Amber got a little fussy on the way home, but it was likely due to us being out for so long. She's fine now." Rachel explained. Hyde nodded but the usually grinning blonde had a serious expression as he thought back to what happened and what Whiskers admitted to him. "Did Wordgirl seem okay to ye?" Hyde inquired. Rachel looked confused by his question and expression. "She seemed alright to me. Why do you ask?" Rachel was surprised to hear Hyde express genuine concern for anyone that wasn't Amber, herself, or one of the lodgers. Hyde let out a sigh and proceeded to explain what happened today with Two Brains and his sister. @unhingedexperimenter

[malarign]

crybaby

(when they find you crying)

contains: bf!maknaeline x gn!reader | genre: angsty fluff | tw! crying obv, kissing, low self esteem, appearance insecurities, burn out, stress, lmk if i missed anything! | wc:

reblogs are highly appreciated!

author’s note: sorry it took so long, but i’ll try to post more often now! 😼 also big thank you to @odxrilove for beta reading!

for hyung line version go here!

Kim Sunoo | 김선우

Looking from your computer screen to the window you felt dizzy. All those hours you spent trying to write something that made sense weren’t as productive as you thought they would be. You just stared at your short story helpless, no sensible thoughts came to your mind, causing a few tears to form in your eyes.

Closing your laptop harshly, you hid your face in the palms of your hands and sobbed loudly. Your cries brought attention to Sunoo who’s been busy preparing some warm meal for both of you. He kind of knew something was wrong - you seemed exceptionally stressed and nervous the whole day so he waited patiently for some reaction from you. He ran up to your room, leaving the stove turned off.

He saw you shaking slightly with every sob, sitting quite uncomfortably in front of your now closed computer.

“Sweetheart?” He watched how your head shot up at the nickname. He tried to send you a comforting smile, but at the sight of him you teared up even more. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, gently stroking your hair.

You brought your form closer to him, trying to find comfort in his hug, but even that didn’t seem to help.

“I feel so bad,” you stuttered out. “I don’t feel it anymore, I don’t know how to write,” you cried bitterly.

“What do you mean? You love writing,” he tried to understand, especially since nothing pointed to your sudden burnout.

“I feel like I’m getting lost in between all those words, and I’m so scared, Sunoo. I know nothing apart from writing, it’s my whole life. But now I’m not able to rig up at least one good sentence or even a phrase.”

He felt how a stain of your tears on his T-shirt became bigger and bigger with your every word. He wished he knew how to help you, but none of you truly imagined a moment like this. Writing and storytelling has been your passion for the longest time, he loved every single one of them and always wondered how you were able to give utter to your stories so beautifully.

“Maybe, try to rest for a while,” he said after thinking for a while. “Don’t you think you’ve been pushing yourself a bit too much lately? Burnout doesn’t mean your passion is completely gone, but that you should prioritize yourself now.”

He felt how you nodded slowly. You pulled away from him to wipe your face. Cupping them he planted a sweet peck on your nose and forehead earning a small smile from you.

Yang Jungwon | 양정원

Looking in the mirror you almost didn’t recognize the person who stood in its reflection. They looked at you but at the same time it wasn’t you. Then why did everything tell you this is how you looked?

Without noticing it tears started cascading your cheeks in hot pathways. Your body was far from perfect and you knew it damn well. How could you do that to yourself? How could you neglect your body like this?

Trying to calm down before your boyfriend Jungwon would come back home from work you fanned your face with your palms in hope it would stop your tears from overflowing, but it was self-defeating. It only made you cry harder, disgusted at the thought of him having to bear with you.

“Y/n?” His voice brought your attention. You turned around to face him with tears-stained cheeks and his face grew completely pale. “Y/nie…” he cooed and stepped closer to you.

When he almost had you in his arms you took a few steps back. He looked at you confused, tilting his head in question.

“Do you love me, Jungwon?” you asked once your sobs calmed down a bit.

He froze at his spot, not knowing what hurt him more - you questioning his feelings or the state you were in.

“Of course I love you. So much, Y/n.” You looked down at his words. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no of course you didn’t.” You were quick to respond.

“Then what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked and extended his arm to you. You took his hand hesitantly and he pulled you to him, engulfing you in a comforting hug. “You know you can tell me everything.”

“Why?” you asked, facing him and watched how confusion painted his face again. “Why do you even love me? I’m not pretty, I’m not as talented as you are, I’m not an interesting person at all, so why are you interested in me?” Tears started spilling down your cheeks, but Jungwon was quick to wipe them with a gentle smile.

“My lovely, the thing is I disagree with everything you just said. To me you’re the most beautiful, talented and interesting person I know. I love you for everything and you have no idea how I wish you could see yourself from my point of view. Then you would love yourself just like I love you,” he said, playing with your hair in the meantime.

Looking at his eyes apart from his love for you you saw sincerity, both brought smile to your face again, forgetting about those thoughts for a while.

Nishimura Riki | 西村力

Riki stared at the screen of his phone, waiting for any response from you. It’s been an hour or two since your exam ended, yet there was no message from you saying how it went. The lack of it already told him everything, but the silence from your end made him sick to his stomach.

He finally reached your apartment and quietly opened the front door. Usually he made sure you knew he came over, being loud and cracking jokes just from the moment he stepped inside. Today was different though. He knew what awaits him and prepared for the high possibility of dealing with your sadness. He peeked inside, looking for you and trying to hear any sound of sobs coming from inside. And he indeed heard some sniffles coming from your room along with your playlist for crying.

He took off his shoes and quietly opened the door, minding that at a certain point they creak pretty loudly. The sight made his heart drop. You were laying on your bed with eyes completely red from crying, trying to stop more tears from flowing down.

“Y/nie,” Riki called your name bringing your attention. You tried to smile but finally seeing him made you feel more emotional and embarrassed at your total failure. He sat at the edge of your bed, covering your body with a blanket. Cupping your cheek, he rubbed it with his thumb wiping the lonely tear along the way. “Let me make you your favorite tea, how does that sound?” he asked and was about to stand up when you firmly grabbed his wrist.

“Can you stay here instead?” you asked in a low voice that threatened to crack at any moment.

“Of course,” he responded almost immediately.

He laid down next to you and let you nestle up to his warm body. You tried to calm down for a long time now, but nothing worked as good as his sweet voice murmuring soft confessions to your ear and the comforting scent of his perfume.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked but you shook your head against his chest. “Do you want to watch something then? We could watch Tangled for example,” he suggested.

You slowly raised your head showing him the biggest puppy eyes and pout you were able to put. He chuckled at your obsession with the animation and reached for your laptop to search for it.

“I love you, baby, and I’m so proud of you,” he said against your forehead in between soft pecks he planted on it.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @jaelaxies, @yenqa, @heesitation

[iguana-eyanna]

Sunshine and Clouds

Pairing: Shayne Topp x Preschool Teacher! Reader

Summary: Things keep on getting better as you take your relationship to the next level

requested by @winifrede

"Babe? Where are my keys?" You ask, lifting up the cushions from the couch.

You were running late to your work and you were trying to find the keys to your car. You looked by the fridge that usually held them by the keychain and under the sofa in your living space.

Shayne pops his head and jingles your colorful keychain that had your school ID.

"Looking for these?" He asks playfully.

"Haha, very funny. Give them back." You said, reaching it, but Shayne stretched his arm, refusing to give it so easily.

"Not so fast there, you gotta give me something."

"Shayne, c'mon. I'm already 10 minutes behind schedule." You said, looking down at your Apple watch.

"Just one kiss, that's all I'm asking." He said, giving you his signature smile.

You roll your eyes and lean in for a sweet kiss as his arms wrap around your waist.

You pull apart as Shayne wiggles your keychain in front of you.

"It was by your work desk. I had to lift the paintings your kids made."

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver. Now I gotta go!" You said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

Shayne smiles as you run off to work at the school you've been working for the past three years.

He remembers meeting you at a Barnes and Noble where you were buying books to read to your kids in your first year of teaching. He could sense you had a big heart. He asked you out then and there and your relationship could only be described as sunshine and clouds.

When you first moved in with each other, Shayne and you really learned to accommodate both of your living habits. For instance, Shayne was a minimalist (there was no question, everyone knew this). He just remembers walking in the middle of the night almost trampling over the work you brought back home, from a stack of worksheets or Crayola crayons.

But you two figured out your differences and helped each other through everything.

You remember helping him draft video ideas and often told him to go to sleep when he accidentally dozed off by his laptop.

Shayne remembers calming your sniffles when your first class graduated, but you knew they would do great things as they continued their education.

And now, he decided to head to the gym since it was his day off and noticed that you forgot your lunch. He looks down at his phone and realizes you should be at work now, and decides to text you.

Shayne: Missing something? 🍱 💛: oh my gawd not again! 🤦‍♀️ Shayne: lol, I should really buy you that airtag for christmas then Shayne: I can drop it off to you now if you want 💛: Really? ty, I would eat lunch here but I will not be satisfied with just dinosaur nuggets at the cafeteria. Shayne: No problem, go through the front desk like last time? 💛: Yeah, you'll be in good hands. The front office ladies love you stopping by. Shayne: Huh, maybe you should forget your lunch more often for me to stop by then 😏 💛: you're so funny

You always like sending those gifs and it always makes him laugh till he can't breathe.

Shayne: please ✋🏻 Shayne: But yeah, I'll go through the front and meet you later. 💛: ty again. I love you!! Shayne: Not possible, I love you more. 💛: you must be wrong sir, because I love you most <3 💛: drive safe!!! Shayne: will do Shayne: ... and I love you infinitely

Shayne shuts his phone as he gets ready to head over to your school.

Once he gets there, he comes down to the front of the school and signs in and has one of the office people walk with him to your class. Shayne lightly knocked on the door and he could hear a bunch of kids screaming in unison.

You open up the door, greeting him with a bright smile.

“Wanna say hi to the kids? I mentioned you were dropping something and they wanna see you.”

“Oh yeah definitely!” He replied.

He always wished to have kids of his own, and since you were a teacher, his dream of starting a family only grew immensely.

“Everyone? Mr. Topp is stopping by to say hello! What do we say?”

A bunch of kids turn around and smile, waving.

“Morning Mr. Topp!” They said in unison.

“Hi everyone! Just dropping some lunch for your teacher.” He said, waving your bag in the air.

“Oooooooooooooo” some kids said, smirking. You playfully roll your eyes and grabbed your bag back and ran towards your desk.

“Okay everyone, let’s work on our alphabets today! Miss Suki from next door will watch you momentarily till I come back.”

One the teacher who had a free period came over, you waked Shayne to the front of the school.

“What do you think of the kids? I think they’re my most rumbustious class I’ve had” you joked, but loved the students regardless.

“They seem like a fun bunch, makes me wonder how our kids will be like.” Shayne said, then stopped in his tracks.

You stopped as well, feeling your throat become dry.

Both of you awkwardly stood by his car, waiting for the others response.

“You want kids?” You ask shyly.

Shayne felt his courage building, no longer hiding his hands in his pockets as he looked at you, timid.

“Yeah, I um… I want to have a family. And I uh… hope I can start one with you.”

You slowly smile, feeling your cheeks grow rosy.

“I wanna have kids with you too, Shayne.”

His smile grew wide as he hugged you, swirling you around in the air.

“Oh my god, I’m relieved. I wasn’t sure since you handle kids 24/7.” He said, looking back at you.

“Please, have more faith in me” you joke.

“And besides,” you said, closing in the gap. “Maybe we should start practicing on this plan of ours?” You ask innocently, slightly smirking.

Shayne’s eyes blew up at your statement, placing his hands on the lower back.

“Oh you be careful. Once we get home, I won’t waste a second.” He said.

“I’ll bet you won’t. Now go, I gotta get back to my class. I love you.”

You two share a kiss, more passionate than this morning.

“I love you more, I can’t wait to see you tonight.” He said, giving you one more peck before he jumped in his car and drove out (and you think he screamed a loud ‘Whoop!’ in his car.)

‘He’s gonna be a wonderful dad.’ You thought as you shake your head and smiled, walking back to your class.

Tonight was going to change the rest of your lives.

[ragnarlothcat]

I know I’m a chronic overthinker but I’ve been in the same fandom for three years or so now and I was reflecting that writing seemed so much easier when I first started out. Just looking at my output since 2021 shows a clear trend: I’ve been writing much less and it’s been taking me way longer.

I figured that I’d gotten a little burned out and that three years is a long time to focus solely on the same two guys making out and that there’s a limit to the number of situations I can put them in before I start to get bored. But I don’t think that’s quite my problem because even now, a million years later, I have ideas for dozens of fics and AUs that would be interesting to explore or funny to write.

No, it’s that I’ve let the larger fandom overwhelm me and it’s left me constantly second-guessing my writing. And I don’t mean that I’ve gotten nasty comments or asks, because I haven’t! All the other fans have been consistently wonderful and fun people with really valuable insights. And it’s not that I’ve been obsessing over stats or comments or worrying about going against popular headcanons. I mean, I’m just as excited as anyone else to see an AO3 email in my inbox but I’m also perfectly happy posting niche fics for an audience of me and my three weirdest friends.

It’s more that after so long engaging with other fans and other fics and the general meta, I’ve ended up writing too self-consciously. I’ve read so many interpretations of canon events, analyses of characterization and comparisons between fiction and real-world politics over the years, and I’ve enjoyed them because I genuinely care about these stories and these characters! I like seeing what everyone else thinks and then considering their points of view, no matter how bewildering they might seem at first.

But now it feels like I’m writing almost defensively, like I have to justify every choice I’m making based on this enormous and contradictory body of information. Three years ago I’d have written a scene in a few thousand words and moved on to the next plot point with my momentum intact. Now I’m constantly wringing my hands over things like physical details (I guess he’s not exactly a redhead) or broader social implications (is this trope misogynistic?) or finicky logistics (these locations are too far apart for this scene to make sense) or controversial character nuance (does writing this guy as a kind, doting husband make me an abuse apologist???) and the result is that I’m paralyzed with indecision and a ridiculous need to support everything I write with a lot of context that isn’t especially fun to write or, I suspect, especially fun to read.

I’m aware that this problem is entirely in my own head and that no one has asked me for any of this. And it’s not that all those questions aren’t interesting and important things to contemplate. But I miss the days of sitting down at my laptop and going “wouldn’t it be funny if these dorks played a video game together?” and then writing exactly that.

I don’t know. Were my fics better three years ago? I kind of doubt it. I’ve looked back at some of them and if nothing else I now have a better grasp of what tense I’m supposed to be using. But I definitely had more fun writing those older stories, which maybe feels more important.

[elliewithcellie]

The Taste of the Divine

summary: reader introduces eddie to Sleep Token's The Summoning (iykyk)

wc: 0.9k

cw: modern!eddie x fem!reader, I'm gonna say 18+ smut adjacent by the end. Its very suggestive lol, reader is called baby a lot, eddie calls reader good girl because it's one of the lyrics, Eddie POV

a/n: the way I revisited this song today and was like eddie should hear this then RAN to my computer to put pen to paper. It was like a fever dream, honestly

Eddie scribbled away in his notebook on the floor of the living room. The TV chattered on. The white noise was useful to him when creating the twists and turns of his campaign. While planning feverishly, it was peaceful to him, something he hadn’t done as often as he would have liked since working full time. He became so lost in his fantasy, he didn’t notice you entering the room.

“Eddie?”

He flinched at the sound of your voice. “Baby, you scared me.” He laughed.

“Eddie, you have to hear this band.” Your tone was insistent. “They’re so metal, I know you’ll love it.”

Eddie chuckled at your seriousness. “Like, metal metal?”

“Yes! I mean, I think so! Come on. I’ll play this one song for you. It’s, like, insane.” You squatted down and started pulling his arm up with you.

“Ok! Ok, I’m coming!” Eddie scrambled up from the floor, trying to gather his bearings, as he fought to catch up with the arm trapped in your hold.

You all but dragged him to your shared bedroom. You jumped into bed, patting the spot next to you. Eddie gladly accepted. He watched as you placed your laptop between the two of you. You typed The Summoning into the search bar.

“Have you heard of Sleep Token before?” you asked.

“No, I haven’t,” Eddie said.

“I really think you’ll like them,” you said, your voice soft.

“I believe you, baby.” Eddie placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

You nodded and clicked play.

The song began with drums and a guitar right up his alley. Instinctually, he found himself nodding his head to the beat. He loved the blend of the singer’s voice with the instruments, all working together in harmony. The scream caught him off guard.

“Oh, that’s metal, baby. For sure,” Eddie turned to you with a grin exposing his excitement. Your eyes stayed on him like you didn’t want to miss a single reaction.

He returned his attention to the screen following along with the lyrics and the rhythm. The guitar solos left his mind wandering, piecing together the technicality, the specific fingerings. He wondered how quickly he could learn this on his own. He smiled to himself. He loved how well you knew him. Even as simple as a song recommendation, he couldn’t help but fall deeper for you, especially when this type of music wasn’t quite your usual genre of choice.

The music began to fade out, and Eddie’s smile grew bigger. “That was really good.”

“It’s not over yet,” you replied, your eyes glued to the screen. “Just wait.”

His eyebrows scrunched together but sat back to listen, you now in his line of sight.

The new soft music juxtaposed what came before, quiet and mysterious. The music swelled, building louder and louder, anticipation gathering in his lungs. He watched you in intrigue and awe as you leaned forward, the anticipation seemingly getting to you, too.

“Oh, and my love Did I mistake you for a sign from God”

The groove shook him to his core. He had never heard anything like it, certainly not in a metal song. It transcended the genre to a new plane. He didn’t want to be dramatic, but this song was changing everything he knew metal could be.

“Or maybe just to turn me on”

Your breathing hitched, stirring Eddie from his musings. You continued staring at the screen, no longer looking to Eddie for approval. He got the sense that this song wasn’t just for him anymore.

“I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man Or maybe make a good girl bad”

He watched as a sigh escaped your lips. Your breathing slowed and your cheeks flushed a light shade of pink.

“I’ve got a river running right into you I’ve got a blood trail, red in the blue Something you say or something you do The taste of the divine”

You clutched the comforter. You watched the screen, your pupils dilating with every word spoken. It was a look that was all too familiar to Eddie. A look you gave when the tension between you was too much to bear. A look you only gave him.

He felt heat rise to his cheeks.

“You've got my body, flesh, and bone The sky above, the Earth below Nothing to say and nowhere to go The taste of the divine”

As the song ended, you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “What’d you think?”

Now Eddie was the one staring. “I can’t decide if I should be jealous of them—”

“Jealous?” you asked incredulously. “Corroded Coffin—”

“—for riling up my girlfriend right in front of me,”

Your cheeks rouged, your eyes drifting from his.

He leaned forward, closing the space between you. “or if I should be proud” –Eddie tilted your chin to face him, his lips hovering over yours— “that you got so turned on by a metal song.”

“I—I, I thought you would like it.”

“Oh, I did, baby. I did.” He chuckled. “But my good girl was thinking bad thoughts, wasn’t she?”

A chill ran down your spine.

“You’ve got my body, flesh, and bone, baby,” Eddie said, brushing his lips against your ear. “Now, let me take care of you like the heaven-send you are.”

[neko-naruto]

complementary in the worst way

summary: Sousuke and Winn have a lot more in common then meets the eye

tags: referenced amputation/character death (?), inaccurate memories, ambiguous ending, bilingual Winn, Naruto references, Adventure Time references, pre-canon

authors note: i got to bullshitting with @willowreadsgayfanfiction about Sousuke and Winn and then this happened, so i hope ya'll enjoy it! and if ya do consider checkin' the Ao3 port or rebloggin' it really means a lot!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60650161

Winn wakes up first.

It's always been like that, maybe because she was the first favorite, but she always climbs out of the page first. The first few times were the hardest, when her body wasn't perfectly proportionate. And lonely.

The first few times were so lonely it was painful.

But then Sousuke showed up.

Disoriented, monolingual, with a sword, and jumpy. At least she wasn't alone anymore, even if her partner was a ninja who only spoke Japanese. She's never been more glad that Lady Thunderstorm taught her Japanese back home.

As she waits for him to wake up, she thinks back.

-/-/-/-

"Hiya!" She held out a hand as she spoke. A grin on her face.

He didn't answer, still out of breath and struggling to garner a sense of self outside of the paper. Oh yeah, she's been there. He's slumped against a plush keychain Pip had gotten months back.

His eyes are trained on the glowing string of lights above them.

"I'm Winn!" She tried again to get a response out of him.

When he snaps to face her he's full of fear.

"What's your name?"

He doesn't answer.

She drops down in front of him in a squat and cocks her head to the side.

"Do you have a name?"

A nod.

"Wanna share it?" Eagerness is on her voice.

"... It's Sousuke."

"That's a weird name."

"Your name is weird! It's literally Win!"

"Winn- two N's."

"Same difference."

-/-/-/-

She was extra shocked when it turned out that Giorgio and Albie couldn't understand Sousuke considering she understood him easily. Giorgio declared he was speaking Japanese, and yeah, made sense considering he was from a Japanese cartoon (although, he would scold her and say its an anime).

So she acted like she didn't understand him except for when they were waiting for the others to wake up.

-/-/-/-

"Did you have any friends in Explore Time?" Sousuke asked, laid out on the desk. His head rested on soft bristles of a paint brush.

"I was friends with everyone, except for the Snow King," Winn said, "What about you?"

Sousuke stayed quiet for a moment, "I had some friends, mistakes were made."

Winn gives a snort of laughter, "I got my arm torn off once, I'm just glad Pip draws me with both."

"Which arm?"

"One of them- I don't actually remember though."

"My best friend got his arm ripped off," Sousuke said, "I think I also got my torn off too- but I have it here."

-/-/-/-

They spend the brief intervals they have alone talking about the people they miss. Their friends. Their family. Their pets. Their loves.

They both come to the conclusion pretty fast that they don't remember everything. That there are splotches in their timelines, inconsistencies in recollection. Watching their shows again when Pip left her laptop open was a mistake.

They see themselves but they see inaccuracies.

-/-/-/-

"Winn-kun! Winn-chan!" Sousuke actually has joy on his voice for once.

But the mismatch of honorifics leaves Winn tilting her head to the side.

"Chan and kun?" Winn asked.

Sousuke nodded, "Don't worry about it Winn-chan, but I had an amazing idea!"

Winn straightens up her posture, grin quickly surfacing to her face, "Lay it on me, Sousuke-kun!"

"What if we drew our friends in Pip's art book? We came to life, so maybe they'll come to life too," Sousuke explained. He gestured vaguely as he spoke. He did try to keep his voice from crescendoing too loud- Giorgio and Albie were still asleep.

Winn's grin only grows further. A snicker escapes. "I like the way you think, Sousuke-kun."

The sound of paper rustling.

"We'll try it out tomorrow," Sousuke said.

Winn nodded in agreement.

-/-/-/-

Arguably, this is the biggest disappointment of their lives, current and previous.

For Sousuke it beats out his brother dying.

For Winn it beats out reincarnating with her dog friend and ending up here instead of right by his side.

They did everything right.

They're sure of it!

The shape of his hair. The way her dress was cut. Their clan sigils. Sousuke is sure he got them right, he could never forgot them. They did so much for him and he could never forgot them.

The gems on her crown. The simplicity of their faces. The way his outfit layered. Winn got every last detail she could scrounge from her memory onto the paper, and she's sure that she got all of it.

But it isn't working.

Depictions of the most important people to them lay lifeless on the paper. The graphite lines stare back at them with imperfections glaringly clear to anyone who isn't Winn and Sousuke. They just followed their vague recollection, glancing around posters for extra assistance.

And it didn't fucking work.

They only created memoirs in a desperate attempt to bring back their friends.

Sousuke just drops to the ground. He looks a little bit shaky. But that's fine, it's perfectly fine, he still has Winn, Albie, and Giorgio. Even if he doesn't have his dumb blonde idiot and his cherry blossom best friend anymore, at least he has them now.

He'll tell himself that at least.

Winn sits beside him.

"We should probably clean it up before Albie and Giorgio wake up, Sousuke-kun."

Sousuke nodded, "We should."

Neither of them move to erase their drawings.

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

final chapter

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: It was a beautiful journey to write this fanfic. But unfortunately, it comes to an end in this chapter. I will miss all the readers of this fanfic, which was so precious to me. Thank you all, and until next time.

PREVIOUS NEXT

"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." Upon reflection, this philosophy could be right, but no one mentions that sometimes, just sometimes, life gives you lemons and you don't have the strength for anything else. It's been two months since your baby passed away. You're trying to move forward, but the path ahead seems so murky, as if there's nowhere to go. Since your daughter's passing, you and Yoongi have been trying to maintain a sense of peace, but it feels like a hollow peace. He works all day and only comes home late at night. You've returned to work as a book editor, doing some freelance work from home.

"How is this going to be?" You ask, with the laptop in your lap, as you stare at the corrections needed for the new book that some new author wants to publish at the publishing house where you work. Yoongi looks at you, bringing a plate of food that he's trying to learn to cook.

"What do you mean by that?" Yoongi speaks as he hands you a plate and takes another for himself. You look, trying to understand if he hasn't noticed that you've been treated like a child since your daughter died.

"I mean, husband, that I know you've been neglecting your concert schedule and what should have been your tour with the boys, because of me. It's noble of you, but you know that I can take care of myself, right?" You say, tasting the macaroni that Yoongi made. He's a good cook.

"Wife, I'm not just doing this for you. It's just that I didn't plan on working at this time. But believe me, I'm working on a new album." Yoongi says as he turns on the television to watch the sports channel. At least that's what you think he's watching.

"Even so, I may seem fragile, but I can be alone. I can even call you while you're away. I don't want you to neglect your life because of me. I'll be here when you come back, no matter where you're from." You say as you set your laptop on the table and sit close to him. You continue eating the macaroni he made. Eventually, both of you finish eating, and you decide to put some music on the television. He looks at you angrily for changing the channel from sports. Then you extend your hand to him, hoping he'll take it so you can dance. After some grumbling, he gets up and pulls you close by your waist.

"You know it's weird for us to dance like this, for no reason after dinner, right?" Yoongi asks, and you feel a bit awkward about saying that you're trying to be spontaneous. It's been a while since you and he have done anything cute together.

"Loving someone means doing senseless things with them, you know? And I think it's been a while since the last time we were romantically together. Our beginning was all secretive and full of passion. Then we had a dramatic breakup that resulted in a surprise pregnancy that left us both grieving for our daughter. We're married now, but I feel like we barely dated. Maybe now is the time for us to do cute, silly, and romantic things." You confide in Yoongi as you rest your head on his shoulder, and you both continue dancing slowly.

"I don't regret any of this, though. Our love story is confusing. Maybe even complicated. But at least I have you. And you have me. And I may not show it very well, but you are the most precious thing I have now. I love my fans, I love my group, but my love for you is greater than the success I have. I know it took a long time for me to say this to you, and I'm really sorry for not being the man you deserved, but I want to be now. Know that." Yoongi says, pulling his head back slightly, looking at you, and you immediately kiss him. A calm and peaceful kiss. Exactly how you want your love to be.

"You know… I could go on tour with you if you need me to. And I think in the future, we can consider expanding our love, but for now, it would be good to take some time to reconnect, you know." You say with your mouth still close to Yoongi's, who gives you a few pecks while seeming very lost in your lips to care much about what you're saying.

"I think this part of reconnecting is very important. Do you want to start now?" Yoongi says and kisses you. A deeper kiss, and extremely needy. Needy for you. You try to show that you feel so much I miss his kisses as much as he does. The truth is, you want Yoongi. You want to give a chance to a flame that has been extinguished for some time. Yoongi holds your face gently but firmly and intensifies the kiss. His hands roaming your body make you feel alive.

"Honey, I think we should take this reconnection to the bedroom, don't you think?" You speak as you move away from him a little and walk at a pace very slowly to your room. Your heart feels like it's going to escape through your mouth, because of your nervousness. But then Yoongi grabs your hand and spins you around.

"I love you." He says smiling slightly and kissing you. You know he loves you. And you feel the same way about him. You then pull him to bed and there you reconnect in the most beautiful way.

Your story continues to be a lesson for some time that not every love story happens in the same way. You loved each other and just when you were separating, you discovered that together you could be better. With Yoongi you faced grief. And with you, Yoongi matured. Fortunately, years later you adapted to married life and he was able to return to being a world-famous singer. You have a mature relationship filled with reconnections. Every year you go to the cemetery to take flowers for your daughter. It seems that sometimes finding a happy ending means going through many barriers. But you're trying to live your happily ever after with Yoongi.