#my heart just bled gosh

[nicestgirlonline]

sneaky

Pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Warnings: None! Just fluff!

Summary: You and Bucky decide to keep your new relationship a secret with somewhat disastrous results…

Word Count: 3.7k 

A/N: Here’s my entry for @the-slumberparty week 2 challenge blast from the past! I don’t really have an old WIPs, I was trying to jumpstart my writing again with this sleepover. So here’s a little sequel to dumb dumb, since you guys really really seemed to like that one! Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always welcome! <3 

part 1

That Valentine's Day was possibly the best night of Bucky’s life. He had finally gotten to express everything he had been feeling for you. Friday night bled into Saturday morning, neither of you getting much sleep. The months of yearning and pining all finally erupted into passion, lust and love.

Saturday morning quickly became Saturday afternoon, with lots of pillow talk, telling each other little secrets about yourselves, sharing childhood stories. A simple Postmates order and quick text to Steve meant no one to bother you, and no reason for you to leave his bed. 

Saturday night, or what Bucky was calling round two became Sunday morning and that brought about a little thing called the Sunday Scaries.  

Amidst the bliss and happiness there was a lingering thought that kept bothering you. The two of you lounged in his bed, enjoying each other's quiet company, the moonlight of the early morning making the room glow blue. 

You bit your lip. Time to rip the bandaid off. Real life was going to be starting too soon again. 

“Bucky I’ve been thinking…about us.”  

“Really? Me too.” He started to pepper your face with kisses. “I’ve been thinking about all the ways I can have fun with my girlfriend.” You giggled as he started to tickle your sides. You wiggled your way out of his grasp. You propped yourself up on your forearms and did your best to put on your serious face. Which was very hard when Bucky was being so cute. 

“I mean it! I’ve been thinking, maybe we should keep this private? For a while?” You tried your best to keep your voice soft, the face Bucky made broke your heart, which was what you were afraid of. He looked extremely scared. 

“What’s wrong, what’d I do? Was girlfriend too soon? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, ” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close against him. 

“No, no, you’re my boyfriend now.” You assured him. You took his face in your hands and he leaned into your palm in relief.  “I am really excited to be with you but we do work together. And there’s HR and office gossip and I don’t want that to affect us when we are still figuring out us. I guess I’ve never really thought about the power imbalance between us.” 

Bucky nodded albeit a bit reluctantly.  He untangled his arms around you so you were both lying on your side looking at each other. 

“I mean…I understand. You know I don’t really think of myself as a big superhero or something, but it is a ‘power imbalance’. Does it…bother you?” He asked scratching his face to avoid eye contact. You sat up, suddenly very confused. 

“What are you talking about, I’m the scientist who’s studying you? I’m the one abusing my authority here. It's all very unethical!” You exclaimed. 

“I don’t feel taken advantage of here, Doll. If anything, people are going to think I’m taking advantage of you.” Bucky chuckled. 

“Why?”

“I’m a bit older than you. I’m sort of famous for not so great reasons. I’m also literally more powerful than you?” He held up his left arm as if to show you proof. You dismissed it with a hand wave. 

“You don’t know that you’re more famous than me. I’ve been published in many academic journals.” You pointed out. Bucky shook his head. Gosh he liked you so much. He couldn’t even believe this was really happening to him half the time.  

“There were weeks of press coverage for my trial.”  You just rolled your eyes at that. Bucky was always so afraid that everyone saw him as a villain, but you’d never once felt any sort of danger from this sweet man. 

“Well, agree to disagree. But I still think maybe for the first two months we should just keep it quiet. So we don’t have to worry about anyone but each other. Just lowkey.” He pressed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Yeah. You’re right, you’re totally right. We will keep things low key.” 

X

“Hey Steve, uhhh we’ve got a problem.” Bucky rushed into the breakfast room, thankful that Steve was the only one there. Steve queried his eyebrow at his panic stricken best friend. 

“What’s up Buck?” He asked. Bucky, seemingly slightly out of breath grabbed the side of the cabinets, he closed his eyes to try and get his 

“So you know how I told you about…on Valentines Day…and then we…so the weekend was…” He waved his hand to emphasis his pauses and Steve nodded along.  

“Of course,  I’m happy for you two, Bucky!” He said brightly, of course this must be some sort of post confession bliss the two of them were in making his friend act so strange.

“Well that's just the thing. Did you…tell anybody else about it?” He asked, his voice a bit strangled and his tone grim. 

“Uhhh was I not supposed to?” Steve asked, his face falling immediately. 

“Can you answer my question?”

“I told Sam about it. The two of you have been dancing around it for so long that we’re all just a little excited for you.” Steve started to explain but he could practically see the fury radiating off of Bucky in waves. His signature death stare was fixed on him. 

“Look, I really appreciate the um, support for my relationship. But here’s the thing, she doesn’t want anyone to know we’re dating.” He ground out, his teeth still clenched. “So we are going to be low. key.” 

“Look who it is. We were about to put out a missing person alert .” Natasha had slunk her way into the breakfast room, her voice dripping with self satisfied condescension.  “Getting provisions for the love nest?”

“God damn it, you told her too?”  He cried out. She shrugged, innocently looking away. Bucky grabbed his head, he was going to throttle Steve. 

“Oh come on, Y/N loves Nat. I figured she already knew.” Steve held his hands up in surrender, the captain certainly hadn't thought this was how his morning was going to go. Bucky turned his attention back to the super spy who was a bit too pleased with the unfolding drama. 

“Nat, did you tell anyone about this?” 

“Please, I’m a spy. I don’t just go around giving out important gossip with nothing to gain.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Romanoff!” He snapped back. 

“I’m still a bit confused why she doesn’t want anybody to know? Is that a modern dating thing, not telling people you’re dating?” Steve asked. It didn’t make much sense to him, what exactly did she think was going to happen if people found out? 

“She just doesn’t want the gossip and the pressure of everyone knowing about us to color the beginning of our relationship.” Bucky explained but his tone belated his true feelings. He absolutely did not want to keep this a secret. “So I told her I wasn’t going to tell anybody but I forgot I already told the biggest blabbermouth on the team.”  He quickly turned back to anger at his teammates. 

“I’m not the biggest blabbermouth…hm crap wait I forgot, Clint knows too.” Steve closed his eyes, wincing, ready for the smack upside the head he sorely deserved. 

“Loose lips sink ships asshole! ” Bucky was exasperated. 

“I didn’t know this was top secret information!” Steve countered. 

Nat stayed at the breakfast bar watching the two super soldiers argue, it was amusing but she had her limits. She had to intervene before Bucky had an aneurysm. 

“It's not so bad, we can do damage control. Tell Sam and Clint to keep quiet about it.” Nat said before taking a sip of her coffee. “And Wanda.”

“AND WANDA--” Steve looped an arm around Bucky’s waist before he could lunge at Natasha. 

x

Bucky Barnes: Hello Sam,  I am texting to inform you that Y/N and I are NOT DATING and please disbelieve the rumors to the contrary. Yours, Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson: please learn to text like a normal person

Sam Wilson: You know I saw you making out with her in the elevator on Friday right? 

Bucky Barnes is typing…

Bucky Barnes: Sam, please disregard my previous message and meet me in the training gym on level 5 ASAP. Yours, Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson: You don't have to sign your name I know it's you 

Sam Wilson: forget it

Sam Wilson: yeah I’ll be there

X Something wasn’t quite right. Your love life had never been better, Bucky was an amazing boyfriend, it was all you could do to not spend all of your time with him. The two of you would meet up after work hours and spend blissful hours back in Bucky’s apartment. But the rest of your work life, well it was starting to feel like people were avoiding you. 

Like the other day at lunch, you were sitting across from Bucky which wasn’t too unusual, you had been friends before you were seeing each other. The very tips of your shoes were touching, a special little secret way of holding hands. The two of you were discussing movies that were coming out, a totally neutral non flirty conversation. But then Steve walked in, looked at you then immediately spun on his heel and walked away. You furrowed your brow. That was a bit weird.

Or when you had bumped into Bucky at the gym on level 5. It had actually been a happy coincidence, you decided to do some yoga as you sorely needed to stretch your body out after being hunched over a microscope all day.  Bucky had been working out with Sam, Bucky lifting weights with Sam on the treadmill. You waved to the two of them and made your way over to say hi and Sam without saying a word jumped off the treadmill and started to jog out of the gym. 

Even Nat, which hurt the most, flaked on the movie night you’d wanted to have in the TV room. Then it was the domino effect, Steve dropped out then  Wanda and Vis dropped out too and soon it was just You and Bucky. 

“Oh nooo. What are we gonna do, watch the movie by ourselves? Just the two of us?” Bucky whispered in your ear as you were pouring popcorn into a large bowl. He grabbed you by the hips and waggled his eyebrows at you. You let out a little sigh and snatched the bowl before heading to the TV room.  You weren’t in the mood to flirt with him. The tv room was ready for what you had thought would be a big group. The lights were already dimmed and there were plenty of blankets and pillows around. 

You and Bucky settled next to each other on the couch. He grabbed a big fuzzy blue blanket and draped it over the two of your legs. He gave your leg a little squeeze beneath the blanket and winked. You just let out a sigh and grabbed the remote to fire up the Roku. Bucky frowned, this was certainly not what he thought their movie night would be like!

“What’s wrong Bambi? You seem down.” He asked, concerned. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his body. You let him cuddle you, resting your head on his chest 

“It just feels like all of our friends are avoiding me. I mean I thought we were friends. Co-workers I guess, you know I’m not great at reading people.” You sighed and buried your face in his chest. Had you grown more annoying these past few weeks ? He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up so you were looking up at him. 

“Honey, you’re great at reading people, don’t let your insecurity tell you otherwise. I’m not really a people person anyway so I was excited that it was going to be just us. Nobody’s avoiding you I promise. Want to just reschedule this night?” He offered. 

You shook your head. Rescheduling wouldn’t make you feel any better. Besides it was nice to be able to spend time with Bucky out in the open like this.  You still felt like your friends were all acting weird, but you trusted Bucky enough that you decided to let it go. 

“Well since it’s just you and me, we still have to watch The Princess Bride.” You relaxed into the couch, already pulling it up on the screen. 

“Sounds perfect.” 

X

You were working away in the lab, it was a little past lunch time but you simply couldn’t stop in the middle of your project. You could push yourself just a little bit and finish this in time to actually leave at a normal time tonight. You had a date tonight. You smiled to yourself. A secret date.

You were deep in the process, so much so that you didn’t even notice the secret date, arriving hours early in the lab. He gave your sides a squeeze making you yelp. You spun around to see your smirking boyfriend. 

“Bucky! Um, what are you doing here!” you asked, trying not to sound too excited. 

“I'm here to help you out with those samples you had requested from me.” He projected his voice around the lab. But it was for the benefit of no one, you were the only two there. You smiled, happily playing along. 

“Oh right! Those samples I requested.” 

“Those spit samples.” He grabbed the back of your head and crushed his lips to yours in a sloppy wet kiss. You slapped his chest as you pulled away from him giggling.

“Ew! Bucky, that's so gross, why would you say it like that!” But you couldn’t stop giggling. He smiled, clearly feeding off the laughter. 

“You’re the one who wants us to have this clandestine affair, I’m just trying to keep up appearances.” 

“"Why are you even here? You’re a little early.”

“It's my lunch break and I wanted to say hi and give you a kiss.” He took  one of your hands in his. You reached out and grabbed his vibranium hand as well so you were holding both. It made his heart flutter, how unperturbed by his arm you were. When he was with you it was like he was just a normal guy.

“Hi.” He murmured, rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Hi.” you breathed back. This time when your lips met it was sweet and soft. He slowly moved his lips against yours, you opened your mouth just slightly enough that his tongue could slip inside and ---

“So I’m pretty sure the Erskine notes were in here.” It was Bruce! Bucky felt a sudden rush of fear. Bruce wasn’t one of the inner circle who would just pretend not to notice their closeness. They could actually get caught!  

You quickly as hard as you could pushed Bucky away and he clamored backwards. You wiped your mouth, hoping somehow that would disguise yourself. Bruce poked his head in.

“Just looking for the Erskine notes. Uh, everything ok in here?” He took stock of each of you, freshly shoved apart. 

“Yeah, just leaving!” Bucky cried as he raced out of the lab. 

“I’m indifferent to him leaving! I’ll go grab the notes for you Dr. Banner!” You raced to the file cabinet not looking at anything but the ground. 

Bruce cocked his head at the strange interaction he just encountered. 

X

“Good morning Bucky!” You greeted cheerfully as he entered the breakfast room in the morning, Steve and Sam in tow. “Morning Steve! Morning Sam!” You quickly added as they filed in. As not to raise suspicion. 

“I get a good morning? Wow. Don’t I feel special.” Sam said with a smirk. 

“I say good morning to everyone. I’m just a morning person like that. How are you doing Sam? I feel like you’ve been so busy, I barely even see you these days.” You asked, trying to sound casual. You still felt like everyone was acting so weird around you. 

“Oh you know, mission after mission. None of them were in Hawaii either, it's all been Nepal, Siberia, whatever frozen wasteland they can dump me in.” He sat down next to you. You nodded along as he continued talking about his missions, eager to connect with your friend again. 

“Good morning troops. Ah and good morning Beaker. Didn’t think I’d see you this early on a Monday.” Tony Stark, sunglasses still on, his closes wrinkled like he’d just come in off a jet. It had been awhile since he was on at the Compound.  

You hoped you weren’t blushing at the comment. Bucky had talked you into another Sunday night sleepover, you were trying to be subtle about it but you were a morning person, it didn't make sense to pretend to show up later.

‘I didn’t think I’d see you at all Mr. Stark. It's been awhile, since you’ve hunkered down with us mole people in the lab.” You always had a professional but good natured relationship with Tony. He was your boss after all, which is why you found it a little weird to call him Tony. 

Tony let out a chuckle and started to make science small talk, about the lab and the projects you’d been working on. 

Bucky and Tony were not great friends. They had buried the hatchet, sure, but it wasn’t like the two drank beer and watched the game together. Cordial coworkers are best. 

Except Bucky didn't feel very cordial with Tony right now. Considering he had taken the only open seat next to you. He gruffly sat down at the table next to them with his coffee. 

You wanted to invite Bucky to come sit with you, or go over to his table, but that would probably be a bit too much for just friends. You peered over Tony’s shoulder to your grumpy boyfriend darkly having breakfast. You tried not to make it too obvious and still listen to his anecdote about building a mini laser. 

The two of your eyes would catch more often than not. Quickly turning back to whatever they were doing. Tony picked up on this immediately, he looked over his shoulder

“What do you keep looking at?” He spun around to look directly at Bucky who was frozen in place.  “What’s going on here? Are you two fucking or something?”

It was like everything happened all at once.

“Tony -- out of line.” “Uh HR?” “No no no you misunderstand.” “Which one of you told Tony?”

Everyone burst into action, all speaking over each other.  Wait what? You swung your head from pleading with Tony to your secret boyfriend.  The three soldiers froze. Sam took a deep breath. 

“I’ve had enough of this! Nobody told Tony. You two idiots are just so obvious that anyone could see it.” Sam said. As soon as he did Steve let out a huge sigh of relief, his shoulders rolling forward like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.  

“I won’t have this, no way, not on my watch. Y/N. My beloved employee. With Mancurian Candidate? Under my nose, in my own lab?” Tony said indignantly,  putting his hand over his heart as if he was scandalized. 

“Tony! That’s really not very funny. You shouldn’t call him that.” You said your face a hard frown. and Bucky felt his heart burst with happiness. But then your gaze turned to him and he felt your icy stare.

“I--I can explain. You see I had actually texted Steve before we decided to be lowkey. It was before so really if you think about it. I didn’t do anything wrong. And Steve and his big mouth told a few people. But it’s just the people in this room. And Nat. And Clint. And Wanda. But that’s all.”  Bucky tried to explain to you as best he could. His eyes were pleading, he felt weak in the knees. You remained silent, your arms crossed. 

“Yikes, you’re in troooouble.” Tony taunted. 

“So basically everyone! Everyone I see on a daily basis. I can’t believe this. So they’ve all known the whole time?” You looked at Sam and Steve who both sheepishly nodded. You turned back to Bucky, you let out a shaky breath. People knew, and nothing bad had happened. Your friends had actually gone out of their way so you two could have some privacy.  “Well I guess there's no point in keeping this up then.”

“Hm?”

“I'm having breakfast with my boyfriend now, so if you don’t mind gentlemen.” You grabbed your breakfast bowl and moved your chair so you were sitting next to Bucky. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your lap. 

“Ugh, I'm nauseous you two are so fucking cute. Guess that’s my cue.  Come on, Commandos, take a hint.” Tony got up signaling to the other two who also rushed out of the room, more than happy to get out of the tense atmosphere. Once you were completely alone, you finally spoke. 

“I can’t believe everyone knows. Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

 Bucky let out a deep sigh. 

“I mean I kept it a secret from some people. Tony being one of them. I just…I wanted to give you what you wanted. But I mean to be completely honest I did want to tell everyone. I’m all in.”  

“I’m all in too!” You cried clutching his hand and kissing his knuckles. “That's why I wanted to try and slow things down so I couldn’t mess anything up. Now it just all seems so silly. I tried so hard to be sneaky too!” 

He took his hand off yours and gave your thigh a squeeze. 

“I mean…we can still sneak around sometimes. If you want. ” He had a playful glint in his eyes. “I mean, I had plans, Doll, a lot of plans. I was fully prepared to take you on every inch of that lab table.” 

“Sergeant Barnes! ” You gasped. “I think we may be a bit too loud for that level of sneakiness.” He took your chin in his hand and rubbed his thumb down your lip.

“I’m sure we can find a way to keep you quiet.”

[jinkookspencil]

like couples do | knj

you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....

description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3

wc: ~1.6k words

+

Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.

Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...

Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.

Fuck.

Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.

Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection… 

It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.

This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening. 

The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.

Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.

You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.

He had to answer.

+

to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?

to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain

to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember? 

to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon 

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)

+

The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.

“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”

“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.

“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.

“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.

“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.

“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation. 

Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”

“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.

“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”

Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.

“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”

Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.

"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.

"Oh, she’s pretty!”

"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."

"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.

“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"

"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.

"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”

“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage. 

“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….” 

“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."

“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.

“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.

“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes. 

“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”

[gotham-daydreams]

I absolutely LOVE the ‘Not’ series!

I’ve read a handful of the neglected reader trope (i.e. three) and so far, yours is the most detailed one in terms of how the batfam became yandere. Not to say that the others aren’t good– they’re great! They just don’t really show how and why.

Mostly they just show that the reason for their behavior is because of their guilt for neglecting the reader and their paranoia in finding the reader either dead or tortured (which is a valid reason), it just never convinced me(?) I mean, as far as I know, it’s normal to feel that way when a member of your family just vanishes without so much as a trace.

Which probably explains why I like part 2 so much, because not only did it showcase their own personal reasons as to why they turned out they way they are (borderline obsessive), but it showcased how badly the reader was neglected. I mean– you should’ve seen my face during the tapes part.

I guess I completely underestimated the neglect when I was reading part 1. And although, yes, I am aware of the fact that neglect is neglect, and there shouldn’t be a rate to determine when the neglect is bad enough because it already is bad–no matter how big or small the situation–I didn’t really feel (?? meaning, it didn’t touch me at first) it until reading part 2, where I saw the extent to the emotional abuse they put the reader through. At such a young age too? Jesus.

During the first part, I kept telling myself that this was fine and I’d probably be able to survive this and just be petty to my family if it were to happen, until I continued reading up to part 2. Only then did I realize how much I actually relate to the reader.

I’ve learned how to play the violin, done taekwondo, participated in school sports/events, and studied till my nose bled and I passed out (literally based on true events, was admitted to the hospital and was generally not a good time).

And you know what made all of that suck? I didn’t do it for myself, but for the validation of family (I’m from your stereotypical asian family who’s expectations are high and long enough to reach the moon and back).

And what made all of that even suckier was that there were times where my parents couldn’t even make it to the events, in which made me connect to the reader even more.

I know the feeling of standing up on a stage, desperately looking around the crowd for the two familiar dots which are your parents’ faces, only to be met with stacks of unfamiliar ones. Gosh, especially that heart crushing feeling where you just feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach when you realize they aren’t there to see the work you’ve practiced so hard on, especially when you did it for them.

I felt that exact same feeling for the reader during the part where Bruce saw all the fliers for the performances he failed to attend, and that was the exact moment when you could hear my heart begin to crack. And you can just guess that the rest is just my heart beginning to crack even more.

But anyway, I absolutely love how you wrote everyone’s individual personalities and their personal relations to the reader. I can really tell that it’s well thought out! Looking forward to the confrontation in part 3!!

Thank you so much!!! I'm glad you enjoyed the second part, and were able to connect with the reader! :]

That was also generally the main focus of Part 2, as I did really want to delve into the nitty-gritty of what got the Batfam started on this hell train to yandere land. Though I wasn't able to see that idea out completely as, y'know, I don't really describe how Tim, Damian, Steph, and Babs ended up hopping onto that train.

The portion of the Batfam in the Manor, and coming to terms with how they've collectively neglected the reader in these little, individual parts, is rushed and does kind of just hop to the city and how the reader is currently doing - along with establishing a time period for how long they've been gone. Which that is mostly because the more I wrote - the more laggy tumblr would get, so I made a last minute decision to speed things along (and I also wanted to get Part 2 out as soon as possible).

Regardless, as you've said there are other neglected!reader posts that do at least mention how the Batfam turns yandere, but they don't really go into detail, or mention a 'how', and just mention the 'why'. (Which is okay! They're amazing, and enjoyable reads anyway :]!) So for Part 2, I really wanted to emphasize on those details, and at least show how the seeds of obsession have been planeted.

Again, as you said! Worrying over the reader's well being, and coming to terms with the crushing reality of what you did to someone — albeit mostly unintentionally in most cases — and what that could potentially lead them to do, and what it's already caused them to do- is a valid and understandable reason! I just wanted to show more than that, and almost make it more... personal?

I wanted to show how it wasn't just pure worry and guilt that started them on this path. I wanted to show the planting of the seeds, and later, how these little things will make the Batfam commit to treading down said path.

Like how Bruce starts off as worried and guilt-ridden, only to end up in love with all these small details and character traits he notices from the reader in their notebook — which turns him serious and cements his will and need to find the reader. Or how Dick starts off similarly, but with a bit more panic and disbelief, only to discover just how much personality the reader had, and how lovely of a person they could be through their voice messages to him, which does fuel his guilt - yes, but I think it adds just that little bit more to everything. Or Cass and Jason watching those birthday tapes, and even Tim falling in love with the reader's music (which isn't gone into much detail within Part 2 itself, but is implied a little, I believe).

I feel like their fall feels more personal to the reader in that way. Rather than just have them be worried about the reader's health in some way (physical or mental (which is still a valid concern, of course!!)), they fall in love with pieces of the reader, and notice small details within them that draw the family in. Furthering their need to find the reader.

And I'm glad you enjoyed the characters as well! Even if I am still a little worried that they may be a bit ooc, I did want these small, but personal discoveries, or small glimpses the family had into the reader's life, to be unique in some way. With their interpretations differing, and while their general reaction was the same, their 'drive' is a little different. If not, then a little similar to one another with odd, small parts not quite matching up inbetween. Not to mention that with a whole family that is so similar, and yet so different- it felt fitting to try and aim for that. Though I can't say much about how well that exactly got across, haha!

Besides, again, with their different personalities and everything, it makes sense that their connection or relationship — or lack thereof — to the reader is a bit different for each of them. Which is kind of implied, I suppose, as some did catch a few small things about the reader, while others didn't notice much at all and such, but I'd like to think that it was a nice touch.

Putting further emphasis on the extent of the neglect and such was also intended, of course, and I also think you and other folks finding out such things from the eyes of the Batfam, was a fun way to go about it as well. Since you not only learn more about events that have happened before the series, but also get the Batfam's thoughts on it and how said information impacts them as well. Though who knows, maybe I'm looking too deep into my own writing- but it was fun, I will say that!

Compared to the development of the Batfam as yanderes, I do consider the information about the reader's life both in and outside of the Manor, as icing on the cake, in a way. Since it gives you more of that flavor along side the cake it self, but that probably doesn't make sense. Lol!

Anyway, I really liked this ask, and thanks so much for sharing your feelings, anon! And once again, I'm very glad that you're enjoying the series so far :]

[goodnightmemes]

LONGLEGS (2024) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ There she is, the Almost Birthday Girl. ❜

❛ That kid smelled like narcotics. ❜

❛ Just relax. I'll go take a look. All right? ❜

❛ Half-psychic is better than not psychic at all, I'd say. ❜

❛ You can read about it in the file. ❜

❛ I'm telling you, she's not ready for this. ❜

❛ It's hard to explain. It's like something tapping me on the shoulder, telling me where to look. ❜

❛ Anything like that ever happen to you before? ❜

❛ Well, maybe we'll just call you "highly intuitive". ❜

❛ You know, there's such a thing as looking too long. ❜

❛ I must have lost track of time. ❜

❛ You didn't call to say goodnight. ❜

❛ Even veals grow a little. ❜

❛ Is it scary being a lady FBI agent? ❜

❛ Do you have to let the phone ring so long? ❜

❛ I'm okay. I just can't sleep. A lot on my mind. ❜

❛ Somebody's birthday's coming up. ❜

❛ Still your only daughter. ❜

❛ I don't think the Bureau has a division for nice things. ❜

❛ Are you still saying your prayers? ❜

❛ Xs mark the spot. ❜

❛ I know you're not afraid of a little bit of dark...because you are the dark. ❜

❛ I don't know what that was supposed to be. ❜

❛ I've seen you before, ain't I? ❜

❛ Gosh, I don't ever wanna forget him. ❜

❛ If'n he told me to kill you right-right here in this room with my bare hand, I'd surely do. ❜

❛ Just happy as peaches to watch your heavy heart go pop-pop, and your eyeses to go all to blood. ❜

❛ Yeah, that couldn't be anything but a coincidence. ❜

❛ [name] is just a man, not a witch doctor. ❜

❛ What aren't you telling me? ❜

❛ I never said my prayers, never once. They scared me. ❜

❛ All our prayers don't help us. Prayers don't do a goddamn thing. ❜

❛ I can't believe it's gonna be your birthday again so soon. ❜

❛ What a day that was. I bled...bled... bled...bled… ❜

❛ No one ever came to visit us. Not any family. No strangers. No big, bad wolves. No anybody. ❜

❛ But these are things a little girl shouldn't know. ❜

❛ I'm not a child anymore. ❜

❛ You're not a child because you were allowed to grow up. ❜

❛ This is a cruel world. Especially for the little things. Not all of them are allowed to live. ❜

❛ I might have forgotten everything I possibly could, for both of our sakes, but I never threw anything away. ❜

❛ You really don't remember this guy? ❜

❛ You sure you wanna start a manhunt with this? ❜

❛ I mean, he worships the Devil, that's for sure, but in the United States of America, he's allowed to do that. ❜

❛ I'm more concerned about the fact that he knows who you are. ❜

❛ He's downstairs. Right under your feet. ❜

❛ I'm a friend of a friend. ❜

❛ We had such a big laugh about it. Although, it was only me who laughed, not she.❜

❛ You don't work alone, do you? Someone's been helping you. ❜

❛ I knew then that the work we were doing was immaculate. ❜

❛ But your work's over. It's done, and you're gonna be in here for the rest of your life. ❜

❛ Well...I'll let you get started now. ❜

❛ Hail Satan. ❜

❛ We had the guy, and now we got nothing! ❜

❛ You didn't have to come with me. ❜

❛ I wasn't gonna let you drive after what you saw today. ❜

❛ It's okay. It's...it's done now. ❜

❛ You could've made nice with me, but you didn't...and now that has led to all of this. ❜

❛ That was the deal that she made. ❜

❛ Why are you doing this? ❜

❛ If they don't die, then we will burn...and twist, and burn, and twist, in hell, forever and ever. ❜

❛ I'm doing this for you just like I've always done. ❜

[fraugwinska]

Chapter 7 - Serendipity

Serendipity (noun) 1. an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident

Tags & Warnings: None If you see this symbol ♫, I strongly advice you to listen to 'Heart of Stone' from the musical SIX (Studio Cast Recording) There is a second song mentioned, but not named. If you like to know/listen to it, it's 'On trees and birds and fire' by I Am Oak

The stage was too wide for you. Too high. Too much room for disappointing expectations. Alastor had summoned chairs for everyone, and even Husk wanted to stay, sipping on his drink and observing you with cautious eyes. Charlie was elated, and you were sure if she had been a human, she would've been the biggest theater nerd. You saw her shaking Vaggie by her shoulders, who in return gave her a soft smile and patted her hands. Her gaze fell to you, and you could see a glimpse of wary curiosity in her eyes. Alastor really set you up, and he took childish joy in it too. He looked extraordinarily smug, sitting next to Charlie, and Niffty on his shoulders. You sat down, the white piano bench hard and stiff.

“I don't really have a big repertoire on the piano.... but I think I can do my last audition choice pretty well...”

“Whatever you want to play! Right guys?”, Charlie shouted up to you, cheeks red in giddy excitement.

“As long as it's not some old ass crappy song. We got that covered. Daily.” Angel sneered, crossing his arms and shooting Alastor a poignant look.

“Okay then...”

If you had no choice to do this, you had to at least do it right. He expected you to, and this was at least a relatively safe circumstance to cross your self-set boundaries temporarily – you had to perform. So, you took a deep breath and you closed your eyes. Even though you were scared to, you slowly allowed yourself to feel. The room fell silent, and in this silence you visualized the feelings of your chosen song. And how ironic that song turned out to be. It was the only one you remembered fully. It was beautiful. Tragic. Powerful. Sad. Strong. More than ever you resonated with it. Into the darkness of your mind bled lights, your skin prickled from the sudden intensity in which the calm numbness faded from your body. You felt heavy. And you felt hurt, pained, moved and twisted. Your breath staggered, your heart pumped achingly hard in your chest. Your fingers blindly found their starting position, and you pressed them down. ♫

♫You've got a good heart But I know it changes A restless tide, untamable...♫

„Gosh... her voice is beautiful...“, he heard the princes whisper in wonder. He nodded in silent agreement, but his eyes stayed fixated on his girl, that curious, wickedly talented little servant, as she elegantly moved her fingers over the keyboard. ♫You came my way, and I knew a storm could come too You'd lift me high, or let me fall♫

„Holy Shit.“ Husk breathed, barely audible, and Niffty vibrated on his shoulder, digging her little hands in his hair as she leaned even more in to watch with her big, wide eye.

♫But I took your hand, promised I'd withstand Any blaze you blew my way 'Cause something inside, it solidified And I knew I'd always stay♫

Her body stilled for a second over the piano, she looked almost angelic – her eyes closed, head slightly tilted, hands floating in the air. And Alastor smirked as he heard the others holding their breaths at the sight.

♫You can build me up, you can tear me down You can try but I'm unbreakable You can do your best, but I'll stand the test You'll find that I'm unshakeable When the fire's burnt When the wind has blown When the water's dried, you'll still find stone My heart of stone♫

Her voice sounded powerful, like a battle cry. Alastor's eyes burned in red and scarlet as he listened. It sounded like a prayer to him. In other ears, it was just an emotional ballad, maybe, as stunning as it was. But he believed it to be a confession or better: an open challenge. His shadows swirled and twisted underneath him, aroused and revived by his own rising exhilaration, not unlike the thrill of the chase he felt whenever he went on one of his carnages.

♫You say we're perfect A perfect family You hold us close, for the world to see

And when I say you're the only one I've ever loved I mean those words truthfully♫

Her tone became soft, almost broken but feathery light. Out of the corner of his sight he could see tears dwelling in the princesses eyes. Vaggie squeezed her partners hand in return. How pathetically emotional...

♫But I know Without my son your love could disappear I know it isn't fair, but I don't care 'Cause my love, will still be here♫

For a second, Alastor felt his breath hitch. His static cracked, just for a split second, but only Husk noticed – one too many to his liking. He felt the cat demon's suspicious eyes looking at him, but he instantly composed himself. He was irritated by this sudden... fit of misplacedemotion. He couldn't place it.

♫You can build me up, you can tear me down You can try but I'm unbreakable You can do your best, but I'll stand the test You'll find that I'm unshakeable 𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕓𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕, you'll still find stone My heart of stone♫

„What the fuck was that?“, Angel whispered hoarsely to Husk, who shrugged wide-eyed in return. As it had already happened his own living room, when his kitten tried her hands on 'La vie en rose', her voice was inexplicably joined with other ones, as if there were more of her, backing her beguiling chanting. Alastor had been sure he didn't imagine it, and now he had his confirmation - The others had heard it, too. Charlie turned to him, a questioning look on her face, but he just shook his head. (Y/n) seemed to be detached from anything, a slight, iridescent glow around her...

♫Soon I'll have to go I'll never see him grow But I hope my son will know He'll never be alone♫

Her voice sent shivers down his spine. He strained his smile, analyzing her every feature as the others shifted in their seats, encapsulated by his servants siren song. Her whole body moved, like a wave on the ocean, flawless and elegantly, and her face was painted with bittersweet emotions that were so strange to her. Such a contrast to the detached facade she always forced herself into.

♫'Cause like a river runs dry And leaves it's scars behind I'll be by your side 'Cause my love Is set in stone♫

The soft, light chords struck by her echoed in the room. The prismatic glow around her pulsed, and Niffty gasped next to his ear, as did Charlie, Vaggie and Angel when (Y/n) took a deep trembling breath into the silence.

♫Yeahhh♫

In an explosion of shimmering light, shapes emerged from her body, translucent copies of her, like carved out of gemstones – one in a deep turqouise-blue, another in hot and vivid blood-red, then one in bright citrus, followed by an emerald green and a blush-pink one. Jeweled duplicates swirled around her, singing along with her like an angelic choir, breaking every ray of light in the vicinity into sparkles. Charlie jumped up from her seat, Vaggie stumbled up and against her. Alastor was enchanted. Finally. A power. ♫𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕓𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕 𝕞𝕖 𝕦𝕡, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕞𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟, 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀'𝕞 Unbreakable 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕥, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕥. 𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕝𝕝 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀'𝕞𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕓𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕

you'll still find stone♫

And what a power it was. Her energy danced around them, he could taste it, raw and unrefined, pure and corrupted in one. He inhaled it, and it sent jolts of manic joys through him. He wanted to burst out laughing at this revelation. One of the puzzle pieces fitting so well in it's place, so obvious it was ridiculous he didn't see it before. Her power was based on his kittens emotions. What luck that the princess and the other fools were occupied in their own fear and wonder about what was happening on the stage, or else they would've seen his lunatic smile and the dials in his eyes as he imagined himself harnessing her power, reaping her like a ripe harvest – he only had to find a way how.

♫My heart of stone

Can't break me, Can't break meStoneCan't break me, Can't break me You'll still find stone♫

With the last chord struck, the copies of her shattered into sparks of glitter, vanishing as they fell. (Y/n) trembled visibly, the glow around her ceased and disappeared as she closed her eyes once more, barely withholding from passing out.

♫My heart of stone♫

“Charlie. I'm really fine. Please, don't make such a fuss.” You sighed, swatting the princesses hand away from your forehead for the fourth time. After you passed out – and that fact alone embarrassed you to no end – you've found yourself on your bed, with the princess of hell scurrying around like a nurse on steroids, checking your temperature, wringing out cold washcloths to put on your neck and general annoying pampering.

“Are you sure? I am totally free, you know? I've sent Al and Vaggie to take care of the hotel – Alastor was NOT happy to leave, let me tell you - but I figured you wouldn't want to, you know... he shouldn't have to undress... you'd probably prefer a girl to...” she gestured toward you, sitting on the bed in your leisure clothes, your uniform hanging over your vanity chair, “aaaanyway, he wanted to drop by later, when you are...” “...fine. And I am fine. Fit as a fiddle. Nothing wrong with me that a good hot shower can't fix.”, you declared, forcing yourself not to sound too aggravated. Charlie sighed and sat down next to you on your bed. “So... first time it happened huh?” “Yup. Honestly I'm kind of annoyed that I didn't really notice it. It was like I was in a trance, you know? Like an outer-body-experience. Is that... normal?” Charlie smiled a crooked smile, patting your hand. “It would've been a miracle if you remembered all of it. A demons initial, uncontrolled power release, especially one this strong, is super painful, so hellish forms tend to force some kind of... mmh... amnesia? A bit like human women who forget the pains of birth.”

You nodded, disappointed. Charlie nudged you softly. “Hey, cheer up. Now that you know what your power is, you can train it – bit by bit. It can still be painful, but if you control the circumstances, you'll be totally good. You have me, and Vaggie and.. Al, all here to help you! And you know – the ability to create autonomous gemstone duplicates of yourself is so dang swanky, even for hellish standards!” She giggled. You snorted and felt your ears twitch lazily. “Thanks Charlie.” “No problemo. Hey. Do... you want me to stay while you shower? Just in case, you know...” “No way, come on. Don't you have a hotel to run? I'm totally good. Promise. You need to worry more about Alastor and Vaggie working together without you as a buffer to prevent a killing spree.” Charlie laughed. “Yeah, you're probably right. I'll tag with Al, he'll want to check up on you too. But I'll tell him to wait until you're done. Rest well, okay? No more work for you today.” You gave her a thumbs up, and when the door closed, you went straight into the bathroom, locking the doors.

The lights flickered slightly as you took off your clothes. You ignored it, despite your resolute stance against Charlie your head still felt a little woozy, maybe it was just your eyes. Deep in thought, you folded them neatly and stacked them on the vanity. Somewhere along the line, your memory of what happened on stage went foggy. The last thing you definitely remembered was the feeling of tightness in your own skin when you hit the second chorus. Charlie told you to the best of her abilities what happened, still, it sounded insane – how could you split up into more versions of you? Versions that moved around like they were living creatures, even singing along with you? It disturbed you to no end, you felt like the secure control you maintained over your body had not only slipped away but it developed a mind of its own, and that was dangerous. You had to find out how you'd get back in charge, how to administer that strange power, and fast. The quicker the better.

You turned on the faucet and stepped into the shower. The water was scorching hot, exactly what you needed. You scrubbed your body numb, steam filling the small room, whirling in circles as you moved, and the air became thick with warmth. The gentle sound of running water echoed against the tiles and you allowed yourself to simply exist, to bask in this simple pleasure of hot water cascading over your cold skin. The sensation was both calming and sedating, a moment of respite from the chaos that was the last hours. As you stood there, enveloped in steam and solitude, you took your time to mend the breaks in your mental walls. Stone by stone, brick by brick you put them up, reinforced them, shutting in all the feelings that were the source of that chaos. You needed time to think with an unclouded head, and time to talk to Alastor about what to do. Alastor. Thinking about him sent shivers down your spine. What a disaster, what a fucking disgrace you must have been, to loose control over yourself like that, to faint like some weak damsel. And right after you thought you'd atoned for your blunder from the night before. You sighed, your skin tingling from the burning heat of the water, and you shut the shower off, wrapping a towel around you, feeling like a total failure. You pushed the shower curtain open and suppressed a scream. Ozul lingered on the wall, swishing nervously with a hum, his cyan maw open as if he was shocked to be caught. It ducked and compressed itself into a flat shape, it almost looked comical. You gripped the towel tighter and squinted your eyes at it. “Did Alastor send you?” The shadow slowly reformed, nodding slowly. You huffed. Little sleeze. “Okay. Let me rephrase. Does he know you peep on me while I shower?” It buzzed loudly, squishing down again, and it looked as if he shook his head, while his shadowy arms covered his visage. Was that thing... embarrassed? You tilted your head.

“Do... you like me?” Ozul let out another loud buzz, high pitched and swirled back and forth on the ground, like ink that was shaken in a bottle. Holy shit. This was a truly bizarre day. You squatted down to the shade, careful to cover anything improper, which in return stilled, looking up to you – if the cobalt orbs could be called eyes, they were looking wary. “How about we make a deal.”, you proposed, glaring at it with a hint of playfulness. “I won't tell Alastor about this peeping-tom-thing. In return, you'll stop being naughty and stay out of this bathroom when I'm indecent.” Ozul stared at you, then hummed and moved in circles over your feet, reaching for your hands. You lifted a brow and put a hand out, touching it – the sensation was nothing like you imagined. You thought it would be cold, instead, it felt like you were touching warm sand, it tickled your skin as Alastor's static sometimes did, but much less intense. Kind of... cute? “So we have an understanding?” Ozul fizzled happily? and, with a last brush of his shadow tendril over your hand, he swished under the door back out.

You were dried and in your leisure suit again. Your hair was still damp but you just put it into a loose bun. Your shadow companion had patiently waited on your mirror, humming lazily as you put up your hair. Now, it gestured to the door. When you opened it, you saw nothing, but heard a rustling sound and a small tinker. There was a plastic bag on your door handle. Your brows furrowed, and you took it off the handle, closing the door back again, bag in hand. Inside, there was just one thing: A small, yellow and pink bottle of something called 'Beezeljuice Light' with a note attached. “To get you going again. Now we're even.” The edges of your lips twitched – The hand writing was jaggered and wide, the small, yellowed paper stained with brown spots. You were sure this was from Husk. You put the flask into your nightstand. Alcohol was something you never got the hang of, the taste and burn from it made you feel sick, even the sickly-sweet or creamy cocktails made for lightweights didn't appeal to your tastes. More so, alcohol tended to turn usually lovable, nice people into drunken and irresponsible monsters, void of reason, manners and rationale, something you had experienced too much yourself to ignore. Better to not indulge at all, than to risk overstepping your own limits and turn into something you'd regret later. But the sentiment was nice, a sign of progress, and you wanted to safekeep it.

Ozul had crept over your canopy curtains next to you, stretching over your lap while fizzing lowly. You scoffed at him, shaking your head. Good overlord.

“You're really milking this, you know?” your blackened fingertips pet the shade, enveloping in this warm, gritty feeling again. It was oddly nice, comforting even, when it buzzed contently in return. You let yourself fall on your back, lying on your bed, stroking your new-found partner in crime. ♫ Like a record player, a song popped into your mind and you hummed along with it. You didn't remember the artist or the lyrics, it was some indie group thing, maybe? Still, the melody and the arrangement came easily to you, you remembered a soft banjo stringing, a drum like a heartbeat. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, humming the strangely familiar tune, chest vibrating and hands moving through the warm shadow, offering a gentle hint of resistance against your cold fingers.

Meditation, you thought, is what it was you were doing, what you needed. Clearing your mind, making room, decluttering. And how safe it felt, centering yourself, stripping your mind to it's barest state, regaining some sort of mental level ground. How nice it was, to stop being tainted and burdened by the pulls of irrational feelings, feeling the dizziness fading out of your head until you felt clear and clean again. Not being anchored in thick, suffocating memories emotions to drown in their heaviness...

The soothing feeling of Ozul left your hand in an instant, leaving only cold fingers and a feeling of loss. Your eyes shot open, confused where it had gone, just as there was a knock on the door. You pushed yourself up, quickly standing straight and face falling easily (thank satan) into indifference. You took the few firm steps to your door, opening it with a draw of your breath. You already knew who was on the other side. Red eyes found your golden ones, and his smile grew wider as he looked down to you. He let himself in, pushing you into your room, and closed the door silently behind him. “There's my special little gem. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

<< Previous Chapter - Next Chapter >>

[dylan-rodrigues]

My Man is Cupid, EP. 2: what is up with all these people? She's smelling a random stranger, he's literally stalking her, the murdered nurse was married and cheating on her husband with another married man, who had kids and was beating his mistress to the point she bled all over her clothes...

her heart is racing because they were lovers in their past life in Joseon ofc. I've watched enough kdramas to know what's up.

I relate to dog dude, I also feel like sleeping asleep in that guy's arms.

Love triangle with Cupid and police detective dude, yaaaaaay 🫤 So the detective was not only in the past life too, even this love triangle is a replay... Can we just have fun once in a while?

NOOO NOT THE RESTAURANT AJUMMA 😭😭 That sick bastard...

Yeah, the stalking is getting kinda creepy imo. This isn't romantic, it's just scary.

Gosh, this drama gets super weird and then super charming again. Im like, I want to drop this but it gets super funny and I'm like, next EP pls.

Obligatory kdrama ML saves FL scene but the comedy afterwards elevates it. The way she still lists every single possible injury and bro gets so scared, it's genuinely funny. He's also scared hamster.jpg when she gets close to him 💀💀these two actors are carrying the entire show

[ruminate88]

Expectations in relationships, and betrayal trauma:

let’s be real… We all go into relationships with expectations. Expecting that person to love us back, to be good to us, to do things for us and to be there for us no matter what. We expect them to be honest, trustworthy, and basically just have our back! (It’s a two way street)

What happens though, when that person breaks your trust? Obviously, it’s devastating, especially if you’ve been with that person for any length of time or if you’ve been intimately close with them. That really hurts. The wost part is when you’ve given yourself to somebody whether it be physically, emotionally or if you’ve told them your secrets. (You expect them to keep your secrets and cherish them too)

When I was with my ex Cody, I told him a lot of my dark secrets. secrets that I probably wouldn’t have just shared with anybody, and he too, was giving me secrets as well telling me all about his childhood and his disorders that he struggled with. so, I believe he trusted me and I trusted him. I had no idea that he was only letting me get so close so he could use me and then when he was bored with me, he randomly dumped me. Cody said he needed “space” cuz we had been talking 24/7 (I had not ate or slept in weeks. I was sick.)

The sudden halt after we were getting so close and sharing so much, really stunned me. I really opened up to Cody in a way that I hadn’t before, and I was lying to myself saying that Cody was the most special person in the whole entire universe like I never met anyone so special before and I tried to take such good care of his heart. I really truly wanted him to be OK. When he’s telling me about all these disorders and all these different situations he’s facing, my heart truly bled for him but when he ran away and suddenly dumped me, oh gosh, I was just like what in the world???? How can you just randomly break up with me for no reason at all???? But then he took me BACK AGAIN and got even CLOSER with me and shared more with me!!!! Cody told me how he puts up walls and shuts people out, and it made sense to me why he randomly dumped me to start with, but it still sucked for me and then I felt like I had to work so hard to make him trust me enough to stay with me, but then after he ghosted me, my trust was alllllll out the window!! Cody was never getting me back. Once he had blocked me, I moved on. I did not try to reach out to him ever again. 🥺🥺🥺

I don’t even know how I was able to trust Andrew after that, the way I did. It makes no sense to me how I was able to open up my heart to Andrew; When Cody had left me so numb, isolated and shutting down. some reason, I believed Andrew was also very, very, important and special to me and I put him on a pedal-stool and I worshipped the ground he walked on. I don’t know why I did it though, it makes no sense to me when Andrew literally hates my guts and wants me to hurt myself. I believed Andrew was someone who gets pleasure out of my pain😓💔

After Andrew, I chose to turn my life around. I decided I didn’t want to live depressed or suicidal. I wanted to like my life and I wanted a husband so bad I wasn’t going to stop trying for a husband. I met my husband and truly believed he was the nicest guy that I had ever met , and I slowly started to open up to him and let him in, but I now have expectations again. I feel that OK, you now know what Cody and Andrew did to me, so you will NEVER do that to me too or it’s over!!!!! If my husband ever treated me the way my exes did, I know for sure I would probably never love again … 😖

however, no one is perfect and no one can live up to everyone’s standards or expectations. I have learned that my husband is who he is and he’s not going to change. Just like my exes are not going to change, but my husband is still a nice guy he just doesn’t do everything I want him to , and unfortunately, he can’t fix me or my past and he can’t remove the emotional barrier in front of me and these trust issues are all my own. There’s nothing no one else can do about it but me and God.

My husband has hurt my feelings a time or two as he’s human and everybody does. My own parents have hurt my feelings before too because it’s life. The problem is being betrayed by Cody and Andrew, it’s like I can’t hardly bear it. I can’t make my husband or anyone else understand that I don’t EVER want to be lied to again, used or abused ever again. I hate it for my husband because I feel like I’m pressuring him to just do everything right and he can’t and that’s not fair to him. Marrying my husband and being intimate with him, has been a really huge deal for me and I don’t know if he understands how big of a deal it’s been and I’ve been very very careful towards him but in the back of my mind it’s really sad because, why did my exes think it was OK hurt me the way that they did? When I felt like I gave them all of me and there was nothing left to give yet it wasn’t enough! I realize the problem is with them AND not with me, but it still sucks for me. I’ve still beat myself up thinking what could I have done better or different? It just makes no sense.

I know and believe everything happens for a reason. My exes deceived me, making me think that they could give love to me and that we could have something really wonderful together, but that’s far from the truth. Now, I’m trying so hard not to expect too much from my new man but some things ARE to be expected AND on my end too. My husband also has expectations and I try so hard to be a good wife but I battle inside my mind and it’s hard to express to him the pain and abuse because he’s never experienced that. Life in general, feels like a balancing act! Trying to balance out my feelings and choices. Not going to one extreme or another. Trying to be “perfect” when I can’t. Wanting to flip the narrative from my past and rewrite myself. Wanting to be a loving and genuine person. ONE DAY AT A TIME ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[shrimpsicality]

flint and steel and red and white

There's blood on her hands. Funny, that; she hadn't thought zombies bled. Pearl spits blood and tries to count her teeth with her tongue. It shouldn't be this important to her, keeping all her teeth, but it's infinitely better than staring at the body of the person she's just killed.

DL finale Pearl be upon ye!! Found this in my drafts and thought hey, this is good; I should post it. So have at it! Rest of the fic below the cut to not clog this up, or on ao3 here.

Warnings for MCD, a bit of blood, and a lot of permadeath.

Pearl lowers her axe, panting harshly. Pain flares through her injuries, old and new. They had been temporarily forgotten in the adrenaline of a fight—a chase, her wolves howl—but now that Cleo has fallen still and Martyn's voice has stopped coming from her left, she can acutely feel the wounds made worse by the rapid flurry of dodges and swings. 

There's blood on her hands. Funny, that; she hadn't thought zombies bled. Pearl spits blood and tries to count her teeth with her tongue. It shouldn't be this important to her, keeping all her teeth, but it's infinitely better than staring at the body of the person she's just killed. There's a finality about the grey hearts swirling around their head, having dimmed from red the moment her swing landed. 

Cleo's eyes hadn't dimmed that fast, emerald green and overflowing with resolve. Strong, that's how she might've described Cleo. Not strong enough to stop Pearl, though. 

Her grip loosens, fingers going slack for the briefest of moments. Her bones protest as she hefts the axe up again, a realisation striking her as an electric shock runs up her nerves: that's her blood. Pearl coughs against a scratchy throat and musters a breath filled with smoke. 

Everything is on fire. It's also snowing, somehow. The powdery, illogical snow doesn't do much to stop the flames from devouring first branches, then trunks of wood. 

Casting one more look at Cleo, she lifts her head. Her hair falls into her eyes, but reaching to brush them away would only smear blood into her eyes, and she can't have that, Pearl thinks, she needs to keep her senses sharp for the next—

Oh. There isn't anyone left, is there? Other than Scott over yonder, looking between her and Cleo as if he's debating who to stand with. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking; Scott has definitely made his thoughts on this matter clear on several occasions. Pearl feels the icy whip of the red string, rejection transmitted with aching clarity.

Pearl doesn't have anyone to avenge, that's the thing. In the end, she doesn't know what she's fighting for. 

Maybe it's the mental image of their bonds as soulmate strings, but she abruptly feels like a puppet hanging loose on its strings, energy spent. She shakes her head, wincing at the ripple of pain the motion sends through her skull; it's a hopelessly idealistic view, one that should have been crushed when she'd cut down Bdubs and watched Impulse tumble to the ground as if the life had been torn out of him.

There's no grace in dying for love, only strength in fighting for a love's vengeance. 

It's the end already? Gosh, she hadn't noticed. 

Everyone she'd met had been fighting with someone by their side. Her partner won't even look her in the eye. 

The stolen axe weighs far heavier than its diamond blade should warrant. She remembers the fatal blow that earned her an upgrade; iron striking past a gap in Bdubs' chestplate—she'd heard his gasp before she felt the hit connect, blood spilling over the fresh white snow. Behind her, Impulse had made a choked sound. Her memory can't help but identify it as the beginnings of his soulmate's name. 

Pearl pretends that there was no time for feeling anything other than bloodlust and a wicked sense of satisfaction. A small voice in her head reminds her otherwise, but what does it matter; as she'd stumbled backwards, a misplaced foot sent her into a snowdrift and the stubborn roots of guilt that she will deny ever feeling were chased away as bitter cold enveloped her. 

Pearl is yanked from her thoughts by a metallic click. She looks up, and...

With a thump, the axe lands on the grass. She's moving before she's registered the sight; flint and steel and red and white. 

Scott props himself upright, a hand braced on the ground. A bundle of explosives lie in his lap.

There's a look on his face that Pearl can't quite describe—determination and hatred and grief and a myriad other things. 

The fuse catches without much encouragement, a bloodied hand cupping the growing flame. The fire burns through almost in slow motion. 

Feet slowing as another fresh wound slices at her side, Pearl manages a strangled, "Scott, no—"

There's an explosion. Pearl screws her eyes shut and flings herself forward with all her energy. It's useless, is her last hysterical thought; TNT can't be un-lit. 

Pain tears through her nerves and her hands close on empty air as Scott falls backward. White fills her vision and what seems to be the whole world. 

Scott is silent to the end. 

[wearingaberetinparis]

Hello gorgeous soul 🌻 26, 26, 27 please!

Hello amazingly wonderful @athenasparrow! I'm assuming you meant 25 to 27 here. My apologies for misunderstanding if this wasn't the case!

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing?

Gosh yes! My fics, honestly, are so angsty half of the time. I break my heart over and over again, and I have genuinely been close to tears or have wanted to scream at myself for coming up with half of the things I write.

I remember this passage from my fic no body, no crime in particularly being very upsetting as I wrote it:

She still remembered those first few moments. How her heart had not just broken, but torn into a thousand pieces. How she had fallen to her knees, screamed so loudly that she had lost her voice halfway through, a banshee as she wailed, weeping perpetually, causing her eyes to be continuously red and her auburn hair to stand out violently against her ghastly and pale complexion. She had not just fallen apart, she had ceased to exist. Lily Evans was no more, buried beside him, even though there had been no body for her to lie next to. Perhaps if there had been, it would have been easier. She could just have slit her wrists, bled out beside him, showing all those who were against her that her blood was exactly the same colour as theirs, that they’d spilled magic, soiled the earth with the power that they had wished to exterminate. He had left her and he had left her nothing. He might as well never have existed, have been a figment of her imagination, a dream that had turned far too quickly into her worst nightmare. Perhaps it would have been easier that way. Perhaps she would still have been able to breathe. Perhaps she wouldn’t have died too.

(Come to think of it, that entire fic is so painful!)

26. Is there something you’ve written that you would never want your family to see?

Any and all smut I've ever written. LOL! Having said that, I could get over my sisters reading it, if they would promise not to tease me endlessly for writing sex scenes. (I think they would be far more supportive than I imagine they would be, but the thought is terrifying!)

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

I already answered this, but in addition to being nervous about posting Gold-Plated Love, (You're So) Golden and RAKWME, one other fic that gave me loads of anxiety was it's all happening without me, a child that I'm actually very, very, very fond of!

[jtl07]

jtl07 fics, first half of 2023

This is mostly just for me, stats and thoughts about stuff I did so far this year.

General stats

Total on this pseud: 8

2 supercorp

6 avatrice

Fics posted (chronological):

[supercorp] National City - Rules & Reminders (Change Log)

[avatrice] handmade

[avatrice] Customer feedback surveys for Bar La Vasseur

[avatrice] past tense, future perfect

[avatrice] that melts the blood inside our veins

[supercorp] to give is to receive

[avatrice] every leaf that falls (never stops falling)

[avatrice] Re: Re: Resume

(More numbers, general thoughts, and my favorite lines/parts from each fic below the cut)

More numbers

Total words: 23057

Shortest: 647 (National City - Rules & Reminders (Change Log))

Longest: 9490 (every leaf that falls (never stops falling))

Average/Mean word count: 2882 / 2060

Most productive month: March

General thoughts

Huh I hadn't realized that I hadn't actually written a lot of those "experimental" ones where I play with form (that'll probably change as I recover from, well, life - I think the longer pieces are going to take a while as I heal emotionally...)

I still don't know what happened in March that had me posting 4 (FOUR!) whole fics wow

The 1-3k range really is my sweet spot but I'd like to continue challenging myself

A thought and a favorite line for each fic

National City - Rules & Reminders (Change Log): At the time, I was doing a lot of writing and version control at work, so not surprised that it bled over to fic. Even though I didn't achieve exactly what I'd been aiming for, I still like where it ended up. I really liked (and was surprised by!) the change between Version 16 to Version 21

handmade: Ah, where I gave in to avatrice lol. While I wasn't surprised that food was the main theme, I was surprised by how the feeling of leaving things behind crept in (perhaps linking to the idea of Beatrice being left behind? hmm). My favorite line in this one is "sure, she could have lived more piously but what’s the use of salvation when there’s nothing left to salvage?"

Customer feedback surveys for Bar La Vasseur: I still really love this one, it makes me giggle every time, which kinda makes sense because I was giggle-cackling while I was writing it (which was within a couple hours in between meetings). I had a lot of fun writing the internal notes and, surprisingly, Hans.

past tense, future perfect: I'm not sure where I got the title but once I came across this phrase, I knew I had to use it for this fic (one of the few times I didn't have to struggle for the title lol). To this day, I don't know where the bookstore sequence came from, it took me by surprise and had my own heart aching as I was writing it. Also, I really like the final line, which is rare for me???

that melts the blood inside our veins: I was really nervous about writing from Ava's pov, actually - I wasn't sure if I could do her voice justice. But I ended up really liked it as an exercise because she has a kind of bite to her, yknow? I actually like a lot of lines here (this fic really felt like I was just trying to keep up with it gosh) - lines like, "Just pretend with me…" and "She’s aware, suddenly, sharply…”  and "(and Ava thinks, you’re home to me…)" and actually the last two paragraphs I really like (again rare for me to be content with the ending).

to give is to receive: Speaking of endings that I struggled with, this one ranks up there, gosh. Still, I'm really proud of the imagery in this one, as well as the idea of bravery as something you borrow (which is sometimes what it feels like when you do something scary, yknow?).

every leaf that falls (never stops falling): Oh gosh, I still can't believe I wrote this. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to write and I'm quite amazed and proud I was able to do it - not sure if I'll write something longer than this but never say never lol. I'm really proud of the imagery and themes here and worked hard to weave the falling and silence and gold throughout. One of my favorite things to write was the line, "Beatrice falls - and is finally, finally caught." as well as the ending, beginning with the weightlifting sequence, which took me by surprise actually. (Fun fact: another sequence that caught me by surprise was Ava acknowledging how hard must have been for Bea to have been left in the dark and lied to)

Re: Re: Resume: I just really wanted to play with this one, tbh. It was really fun to try and figure out Camila’s voice and to just wonder in general what life must have been for them because I doubt they spent 100% of their time being warriors and 0% being nuns, yknow? Anyway, my favorite line here was the Skills section "[Edit: I didn’t realize there were 5 pages…]" because Beatrice. Also I was really happy with "Silva Lining Travel Company" lol

[missmungoe]

Not making any promises, buuuuuuut if you were to receive an illustration of one scene from Sea Songs, which would you pick? <3

!!! Oh gosh I'd be over the moon for an illustration of any scene from Sea Songs, but if I could pick, it would be something from Luffy's Pirate Summit, which is my favourite part<3

(from Sea Songs, fourth verse)

The gathering dark had leached the sun’s warmth out of the whitewashed stone, a long-awaited respite from the midday heat offered at last, along with the lengthening shadows ushered down the narrow corridors winding through the towering structure that had been appropriated for the occasion.

Shanks had no idea how Luffy had gotten his hands on a fortress, or who had owned it previously, but knew better than to ask.

“This looks more like a party than an assembly,” he told Ben, observing the people gathered. The ships had been coming in all week, and idled now along the wharf hugging the water’s edge, far above which sat the white-stone stronghold, perched on the steep cliff's high brow. Several hundred vessels and their crews, all having arrived for the summit. “Although it figures, given who issued the invitation.”

They were standing towards the far end of a large, square chamber, the high, vaulting ceiling invoking the ghosts of lavish feasts, heavy wooden beams wedged together to carry the weight of the structure, and slits of honeycombed glass opening up to the sky, bruising purple as the light bled out of the day. The room was well-lit, a hundred glowing lamps suspended from above casting a sheen of gold across glass and stonework, giving the illusion that everything was gilded.

All in all, a fitting setting for a gathering of pirates, the room full of hearts hungry for treasure, but they seemed to have settled for plundering the refreshments. There was enough food to feed several fleets. Again, not much of a surprise, given their host.

“It will be interesting to see what comes of this,” Ben said, sliding him a look. “Even if you are retired. The kid did appreciate the insight.”

“I don’t know how useful it was,” Shanks said, observing the pirates mingling, a colourful tapestry of different species and crews. He recognised some faces, but most were unfamiliar. And half his age. “This is a different world than ours was.”

Ben’s mouth quirked. Shanks watched as he lit himself a cigarette. “Maybe,” he said, gaze shifting across the room, ever-assessing. “But pirates will be pirates.”

Shanks’ agreement was a fleeting smile, and he followed Ben’s gaze, taking in the celebration with a curiously detached interest. A long life of piracy had seen many similar events, and he’d always had a ready heart for feasts of all kinds. If there was booze present, all the better. If there wasn’t, he was usually the one providing it.

But even with a party big enough to fill an entire stronghold and enough drink to put even his tolerance to the test, his thoughts kept fleeting back across the sea, to a warm hearth and his wife curled up against his side, a single bottle enough between them.

“Thinking about Makino?”

His smile was quick to chase the question, spoken in a way that told Shanks Ben already knew the answer. “I’m that obvious, huh?” He sighed, watching as someone made an elaborate toast, followed by laughter like the crack of thunder. “It’s just weird, her not being here. It was easier when we only saw each other a few weeks at a time.”

Ben took a long drag of his cigarette. “It’s the way of things.”

“Yeah?” Shanks asked. “What about you? Worried about your tobacco crop?”

“There was cold front coming,” Ben deadpanned, refusing to indulge his teasing. “And I have orders to meet.”

“Listen to you. And you give me grief for the barkeep thing.”

“I don’t wear an apron,” Ben pointed out.

“No, you don’t wear a shirt. And don’t tell me you’re not aware it’s the reason half the people on our island stop by your house every morning.”

“I’m just now hearing about this,” Ben said, smiling around his cigarette.

Shanks shook his head. “And I’m the indecent one,” he muttered. His eyes scanned the room again, before he stopped. “Wait a minute,” he said, frowning. “Is that Yasopp?”

Ben followed the direction of his gaze, brows drawing together. “Maybe he decided to come after all. It’s been a while since he saw his kid.”

Shanks was still frowning. “Maybe,” he conceded. “But it’s a little weird that he didn’t call ahead.”

Ben said nothing to that, but his silence held agreement, and Shanks tried not to let himself question the wisdom behind Yasopp’s decision to come.

It wasn’t that he was worried anything was going to happen while he was gone, but there’d been a guarantee in the knowledge that most of his crew was where his family was. It wasn’t a secret that he’d settled down there, and the thought that someone might take advantage of him leaving had crossed his mind, both before and after setting sail. Like it had done more than once, in the years he’d still been an active pirate.

But Blackbeard was an old memory, dulled like the scar on his chest. And there was still Lucky and the others. There was no reason for him to add more concerns to the ones he already had, what with Makino pregnant.

“There’s Lucky,” Ben said then, and Shanks’ head swivelled around. And there was no mistaking the familiar bulk, or the fact that he’d stationed himself next to one of the tables laden with food.

“What the hell,” Shanks muttered. But before either of them could walk over to ask the man himself, someone stepped up behind them, and Shanks turned, taking in the familiar mop of blond hair, and the lopsided smile.

“Red-Hair,” Marco said, inclining his head in a greeting. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “Been a few years.”

“Marco,” Shanks laughed. He stole a fleeting glance across the room, but Lucky had moved somewhere else. If it hadn’t been for Ben pointing him out, he might have thought he’d imagined it.

He looked back at Marco, hands in his pockets, and more at ease than when Shanks had seen him last. “I haven’t seen you since the war,” he said. “How are the guys?”

The smile crooked further, visibly amused. “Drinking,” Marco said. “I’m starting to wonder if that wasn’t why he called us here.”

Grinning, Shanks was wryly inclined to agree. “Been here long?”

“Just came in yesterday. You?”

“A week ago,” Shanks said, nodding to Ben. “Luffy wanted some advice. I thought it was for the open bar, but apparently it’s strategy and coordinating this whole event. Not really what I signed up for. I retired, you know?”

Marco smiled. “Welcome to the club. I heard you’re a barkeep now,” he said. “How’s that treating you?”

Shanks’ grin widened. “I’m always happy to be close to good booze. And my family, of course.”

“Yeah,” Marco said. “I just ran into your missus over by the refreshments.”

Ben lowered his cigarette, and Shanks blinked. “What?”

“Your missus,” Marco repeated. “Makino.”

Shanks’ mouth worked. “My—”

Marco nodded across the room. “Cute kid, by the way. That’s your youngest, yeah? Seems to have stolen the whole show. Not that His Majesty is complaining. He’s the one who’s been showing her off.”

Shanks followed the line of his gaze, still having trouble accepting what he was even saying, and there was a part of him that thought Marco had to be mistaken; that it couldn’t be her—that she couldn’t be here.

But then he found her—sought her out in a single breath where she stood among a group of pirates, the tiny shape of her emphasised by the crowd around her, but asserting herself with the same quiet authority she did in their bar, her presence at once unassuming and wholly, undeniably compelling. She wore Siren on her hip, Shanks saw, the blade quiet in her sheath but her presence as unmistakeable as her mistress', dressed in a loose blouse and breeches, her small shoulders at ease under a short cloak; a lovely thing he’d brought her years ago on a whim, supple folds of sea-green velvet threaded with silver at the collar, enclosed around her slender neck with silver clasps. Her thick braid coiled in a heavy bun at her nape, a familiar length of blood-red cloth braided through it, before it wrapped like a bandanna around her head, holding her hair back from her face. She looked like—

“A pirate,” Shanks said, dumbstruck.

She met his eyes then, as though she’d felt him looking, and her smile tilted her eyes at the corners, the earth after rain, and full of the pleasure that had always delighted in catching him off guard.

“I’ll be damned,” Ben barked a laugh. “She finally outdid herself.” He threw Shanks a look. “Do you need to sit down?”

“Am I not sitting down?”

Ben was grinning. “That explains the others,” he said, casting another glance around the room, seeking. “Did she bring them all?”

Shanks would have answered if he’d had his mind with him, or if he could have found his voice, but both eluded him, watching Makino pick her way across the chamber towards them, the soft soles of her boots leaving no sound on the stone. She stood out from the crowd, a small, gentle shadow of dark hair and ivory skin, and eyes that swallowed up the light.

And coming to a stop before them, “Hey,” she said, casually, as though there was nothing amiss with her presence here, in a fortress full of pirates, at the court of the reigning king.

His grin was still that stupid, wholly disbelieving thing, but, “Hey,” Shanks laughed, the script old and familiar, even as it felt like he was reciting it for the very first time. He thought he might have kissed her senseless, if he’d had any of his own senses with him.

Her pleased smile told him he was being rather obvious about the fact. “Sorry I’m late,” she said. “The traffic getting here was terrible.”

His mouth worked, but he had nothing to offer but that half-gaping, gobsmacked expression.

As though she’d heard the question anyway, “I figured that since we make such a good team at the tavern, I would be remiss to leave you to do this alone,” Makino said, smiling.

Shanks was still scrambling to catch up. It was a feat deciding what to even say, all of his usual, quick-found wit failing him, along with his voice.

“I take it you answer to ‘Captain’ now?” Ben asked in his stead, warm amusement rolling off the words, and Makino’s smile brightened.

“Not only that,” she said. From across the room, Yasopp caught her eye, and raised his glass with a shout of ‘Bosslady!’ that had her raising her hand in a salute, and prompting an echoing chorus from the rest of his crew, who Shanks could now see intermingled with the other pirates.

“You usurped me,” he said, amazed.

Makino blinked, brows quirking innocently. “Aren’t you retired?”

Delighted grin bordering on being absolutely ridiculous, Shanks looked to Ben. “She usurped me.”

“We did warn you,” Ben said. “Repeatedly.” But his attempted dryness was ruined by the fact that he couldn’t stifle his own grin.

Shanks thought he should have managed a comeback to that, but the sight of her had him forgetting what Ben had even said. He was vaguely aware that he was still gaping.

Ben excused himself then, but when he passed her—“Captain,” he told Makino, and their shared grin told Shanks this was far from the end of it. None of them would ever let him forget this.

Somehow, he found himself quite without shits to give about the fact.

Inclining her head in a show of observing his reaction, her smile managed to somehow be both sweetly demure and utterly glib. Shanks just shook his head, although he didn’t rightly know just what he was refuting.

He reached up to cup her cheek, as though needing to touch her to convince himself that he hadn’t just conjured her from thin air (he didn’t know what was in the punch, but he doubted it was rum, and he wouldn’t have put it past himself—not to have drunk too much, or to have brought her into being like this, in full pirate regalia, an old, well-worn fantasy unearthed from a younger man’s memory).

But she was solid under his fingers, her skin warm and smooth, and he felt her smile when it lifted her cheeks, all the way to her eyes, to gather in the gentle lines at their corners.

“I brought your ship,” Makino said then.

He couldn't seem to stop grinning. “You brought more than that, from the looks of things.”

Makino looked over her shoulder, and Shanks followed, finding Luffy at the centre of the crowd. Spotting them, “Shanks!” he called loudly, waving. He had Emmy on his arm, and Shanks saw she was awake, small hands fisted in Luffy’s shirt.

Then he was making his way over, grin as bright as the lights overhead, which had claimed the baby’s attention, her mother’s eyes wide and enraptured as she craned her neck to look at them.

Shanks took them both in. And it was just two weeks since he’d last seen her, but the sight still left him short of breath, like someone had jabbed him sharply between the ribs.

“Why am I always finding my kids with you?” he asked, as Luffy strode up to where they were standing, the crowd parting to let him pass. “I don’t know if I like this trend. One of these days you’ll be calling me with a stowaway on your ship, and refuse to give them back.”

Luffy only grinned, and didn’t seem to find the insinuation at all unjustified. He had his arm wrapped around the baby twice, as though for good measure. Shanks noticed she didn’t seem to mind the fact, still distracted by the hanging lights.

He reached out to touch one small foot, claiming her attention. “You’ve flown a long way, swallow,” Shanks told her, rubbing his thumb along the arch of her foot. It got him a smile, wide and toothless, and that gurgly little giggle that was his favourite.

He brushed his fingers over the hem of her dress, noticing the little fish and the whorls of lace and seed pearls. “All dressed up for the occasion, too.” He looked at Makino, who met his eyes. The significance wasn’t lost, but it passed between them in silence, and what he said instead was, “Between the two of you, I feel like I should have made a bigger effort.”

Her smile was enduring. She very pointedly didn’t look at his pants. “Would you really?”

Shanks grinned. “Probably not.” He raised his brows suggestively. “I’m at my best without clothes, and you know it.”

Luffy made a grimace at that. “Ew,” he told the baby, before sticking his tongue out at Shanks. “I’m taking her to where there’s food. You can be gross over here.”

Before Shanks could get in another word, he’d whisked her away, but she went along for the ride, enduring the attention with staggering grace, despite the gathering crowd of curious onlookers taking shape around the Pirate King, who’d made straight for the food.

“Your daughter,” Makino mused. “A natural for the spotlight.”

Shanks watched the crowd, seeking the wide-eyed little face at its heart now. “Oh, I don’t know if it’s me she gets that from,” he said, looking back at Makino. “I’m not the only one with a penchant for dramatic entrances.”

At her delicately raised brow, he gestured to the room. “You commandeered my crew and you decided to make an appearance at the biggest outlawed event since the war. Without telling me.” He shook his head, marvelling. “This you give no warning.”

He remembered the moment he said it, the reminder as stark as the realisation that followed, and his gaze dropped to her stomach, but there was no visible indication of her condition.

He didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse. They were among allies—well, Luffy’s allies, but they were still pirates, and opportunism had little patience for loyalty. And even if Shanks had no real authority on this sea anymore, his name still carried weight, and Luffy wasn’t exactly making a secret of their connection, brandishing their daughter like a treasure.

And of course, there was the sea herself. He tried not to think about the long voyage, and all the things that could have gone wrong.

“I decided not to be afraid,” Makino said then, and Shanks lifted his eyes from her stomach to meet hers. “We were so careful, all those times, but it didn’t change anything. And I didn’t want to spend nine months sitting on my hands, fearing the worst.”

Shanks looked at her, firm in her quiet resolve. And she was right—they’d done everything they could to be safe during all her pregnancies, and in the end it hadn’t made a difference. Not for the three that had preceded their daughter, anyway.

Makino smiled then. “I have a good feeling,” she said, as though in answer to his thoughts. “And I brought Doc with me, just in case.”

The assurance was meant to ease his mind, he knew, but it was the look on her face that did it; that helped anchor his fleeting certainty, the one that had felt out of his reach ever since she’d called with the news.

Shanks held her eyes, his own smile wry. “Not just Doc.”

The far too innocent look he got in return wasn’t even remotely convincing. “I only asked for those who were willing,” Makino said.

“I’m sure you did. I’m also pretty sure they’d all sail to the ends of the ocean if you batted your eyes.”

They’d moved closer, the rest of the crowd parting to move around them. Shanks didn’t let it faze him. He had few thoughts left to spare the festivities, or why they were even there, with her standing so close. And they’d only been apart two weeks, but enough things had happened in the in-between that seeing her again, and before he’d counted on it, was almost too much.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked her. His hand hovered awkwardly at her hip, wanting to touch her, to see if he could feel a difference and if it would help solidify the news somehow, but something held him back, and he let it fall to his side.

Makino’s smile eased into understanding. “Everyone is fine,” she said. She swept her hand over her stomach once, a familiar ease in the gesture. There was a teasing light in her eyes when she added, wryly, “And I’ve been throwing up so much from the morning sickness, the seasickness barely even fazed me.”

He laughed, a soft and helpless sound. “That’s my girl.”

Lifting his hand, he curved his fingers around the back of her neck, tangling in the twist of her braid, a few loose strands escaping it. It felt coarser than usual. From wind and sea spray, he realised, with an awe that filled his chest whole. And she’d sailed the New World before, when Rayleigh had brought her from Fuschia, but that had been out of necessity. This—his ship, his crew, their daughter—was choice, wholly wilful, and just a little bit reckless. The kind of choice a pirate would make, for no other reason than because she could.

“I love you,” he told her then, seriously. “You wilful thing. You’ll give me a full head of grey hair one of these days pulling stunts like this.”

Her eyes were laughing, but the smile that softened her mouth looked suddenly unsure. “Would you rather I hadn’t come?”

“No,” Shanks said, without even a pause for breath. He brushed his thumb along her cheek, a tender arc. “I’ll take the grey hair.” He flashed her a grin, and saw how it chased the lingering doubt from her features, even before he added, “And now that you’re here, this just became a real party.”

Her laugh fell, a soft sigh over his fingers. “That’s quite the compliment, coming from you,” Makino said.

She glanced over to where Emmy was being passed around, Luffy hovering with a grin that had stretched so wide it was visible from across the full length of the chamber. “What did he call this summit for again?” she asked.

Shanks shook his head. “I forget, but now it’s apparently to show off his goddaughter.”

The baby changed hands again, and then Luffy was shouting for someone to come see. Like her brother before her, she seemed curiously accepting of his attentions, and those of the pirates who’d gathered around to watch the spectacle.

“Ace?” Shanks asked then, dragging his eyes away. “I’m going to assume you didn’t stow him away on the ship somewhere.”

Her smile made him wonder if that wasn't actually the case, but, “Only one stowaway,” Makino said, patting her stomach. At his startled grin, she said, “Dadan came over. She’s watching him. I thought about bringing him with me, but I figured it might be best if he stayed. I didn’t know what to expect from, well, this.” She gestured to the room. “And I was already bringing Emmy.”

She looked over at their daughter again, back in Luffy’s arms now. He wasn’t passing her around, seeming content to carry her, and with surprising care for a man who wasn’t exactly known for it.

“I couldn’t leave her,” Makino said. “She’s a little too young yet to be left with someone else. But I thought it would be okay. It’s not like she can run off.”

“No,” Shanks agreed, amused. “But I wouldn’t put it past the one holding her.” Shaking his head, the sigh that left him sounded suddenly old. “This is the second of our children who’s set out to sea before they’re a year old,” he told her. “And this time it’s our baby girl. I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“Hmm. Well, she’s been exemplary so far,” Makino said.

“Yeah?”

She met his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from the daughter of a former Emperor.”

“Former,” Shanks muttered, feigning affront. “I hope you know this continuous and belligerent use of the past tense is making me feel obsolete.” He looked at Luffy again, loudly delighted by the baby, and her bubbling laugh. “But on that note, His Majesty better be careful, or he’ll be the one without a throne next. Given her mother, I wouldn't put it past her."

His brows furrowed, before he muttered, "Look at them fawning." Then, "I should go over there.”

Her laughter stopped him before her hand on his arm. “Let him have his fun. It’s his first time seeing her. And he is her godfather.”

“That’s my daughter he’s passing around like a loaf of bread.”

“If that was all she was, he would have eaten her by now,” Makino said, prim, and entirely unhelpful. At his unamused look, she only smiled. “Shanks. He’s being very careful with her.”

“And the others?”

“The one with the face tattoos is making silly faces at her. I think we’re good.”

His dubious look held on for another second, but her persisting smile tempted it into yielding, his surrender punctuated by a sigh that dissolved into a laugh quite despite himself.

Shanks swept his gaze across her again, taking in the cloak and breeches. He tried to picture her on his ship, taking the helm with the same ease she took charge of things at the bar. The image came easily, and so quickly that he found he wasn’t at all surprised.

“Look at you,” he said. “My pirate wife.”

Makino smiled an odd little smile at that. “Don’t you mean pirate’s wife?”

Shanks only looked at her. “No,” he said, and she ducked her head with a grin. He touched his fingers to the bandanna, the red bright against the dark colour of her hair.

“So,” he said then, lifting his brows, and watched as her eyes flicked back up to meet his. “Do you prefer ‘Captain’ or ‘Bosslady’ now? I feel my usual endearments fall a bit short of what I’m feeling about you in this getup.”

The pleased flush in her cheeks was immensely gratifying. “Hmm,” she mused, failing spectacularly at pretending to be unaffected. “The first does have a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah? Well I know I what I’ll be calling you later.”

He traced the curve of her cheek, before echoing the touch along the embroidered silver at her neck, rough fingers brushing the soft fabric of her cloak, his callouses catching in the velvet. She was still watching him with that gently preening smile, and it took effort remembering they were in public, to not just pull her to him, as close as she'd get; to cage her small frame with his bigger one and forget everyone else.

“You know,” Shanks said, the low rumble of his voice meant only for her ears. “This is a pretty big place. And Face Tattoo is providing a very good distraction.” His smile curved, an edge full of wicked promise. “Want to sneak off?”

Makino laughed, that throaty, straight-to-the-bottom-of-his-gut sound that he’d been craving for weeks. Even high-quality whiskey couldn’t replicate that feeling. “The summit hasn’t even started yet.”

“Exactly. We have plenty of time. There’s bound to be some abandoned corner where we can get frisky.”

Her eyes curved, full of that familiar, teasing reluctance that always followed his suggestions of a quickie between their shifts at the bar. “Make a more compelling case, and I’ll consider it.”

Shanks grinned, delighted. “Always so hard to win over.” He stole a glance across the crowded room. “But if you need more incentive, Yasopp is giving us a thumbs up,” he told her, lifting his own hand in a vulgar gesture. “You should make him walk the plank for that. You have the authority to do that now.”

At her barely-contained smile, he winked. “Or you could make me walk the plank. I don’t even know what I mean by that, but with the way you look right now, I don’t really care. I’m up for anything if you keep that cloak on.”

Her smile broke through her pitiful attempt at schooling her expression, and he was grinning so badly he doubted he’d ever in his life been so painfully obvious.

They were standing so close they were almost embracing, but even if he ached with it, he didn’t reach down to kiss her, feeling the weight of the crowd around them, and knowing that for all her hard-earned ease in making a space for herself in it, there were some things she preferred to keep private. Or as private as she could, being married to him. But their crew and home was one thing; a room full of mostly strangers was another.

Reaching up, he settled his hand over her stomach instead, no awkward hesitation holding him back this time. And they had two children already, but he still struggled wrapping his mind around the thought of another one, even with the solid truth in front of him now, her skin warm through her blouse where he’d placed his hand. Under his palm, large where it spanned her small waist, her stomach curved gently, the bump barely noticeable, but he felt the implication; another little life, intricately woven into theirs.

“So, did you miss it?” Makino asked, making him look up. He’d lost himself to his thoughts, and her smile told him she’d realised as much. “The seafaring life,” she elaborated.

Someone breezed by them, the first notes of a familiar shanty rising up with their laughter, compelling more to join. Drunk off ale and saltwater, they were singing like they were moving across a tilting deck, feet unsteady and swaying on the solid stone. Like a good lover, the sea left her marks, in weak knees buckling, and a deep-seated longing for more that could never be sated. He’d known that longing intimately once.

But his feet were steady, and the only salt he longed for was the taste of her, and her hair slipping through his fingers, softer than water. It was years since the sea had left him weak in the knees, but the dainty little hands tucked over his knuckles could unravel him with a few touches. And she knew it, from the way she looked at him.

“No,” Shanks said, smiling, and when it sparked her own he lifted his hand to tuck some of her hair back into her bandanna, the thick folds of her braid gleaming, bottle-green greying at the roots, the veins of silver mirroring his, if not in sheer quantity. He touched the laugh-lines at the corners of her eyes, etched deep with self-satisfaction; the knowledge of the marks she’d left.

“That’s not what I’ve missed.”

[sylviareviar]

Rightful God – Favorite boss in the series?

Gosh, it's so hard to say in Fire Emblem. I haven't actually played a lot of the games, to be honest; the only two games I've played to completion so far are Fire Emblem Fates: Birthright (and Revelation), and Fire Emblem Awakening. However, I know the story for more than half of the Fire Emblem series. I have an emulator to play an English translated version of FE: New Mystery of the Emblem, but I didn't complete it (I wanted to write a story alongside it and stopped before I got too far into the story of the game), and I still haven't finished Engage yet.

BUT. Out of ALL the Fire Emblem Bosses, so far, my favorite would have to be Awakening, despite Fates being my first FE game (and honestly I'm kinda biased towards it. People don't like Corrin for how utterly pacifistic and idealistic they are but when I played it as a kid, I genuinely thought my 3DS had somehow scanned my brain and programmed my personality into Corrin, that's how hard I related to her.)

In Awakening, the boss is the Fell Dragon Grima, and though I didn't relate to Robin nearly as hard as I did to Corrin, the story was still beautifully written and tugged at my heartstrings. Failing to save Emmeryn, defeating Walhard the Conqueror only to find out that it wasn't enough, and finally Lucina pulling her sword on you only to hesitate, because she just doesn't have it in her heart to kill her own mother... When Lucina approached my character and told her she'd figured out that I would be the one to betray Chrom, and that she asked me, if I truly loved him, to let her kill me, I immediately surrendered to her. I didn't want Chrom to die. I didn't want Lucina to lose her father a second time. But she hesitated too long, and her heart faltered. In the end, she was unable to kill me.

I became prepared, since that moment, that it might not be possible for my character to survive this. So when the ultimate choice arrived, as we finally approached Grima's battle, and my character didn't tell Chrom jack shit about their connection to the Fell Dragon, even after they learned the truth, it was only when Grima revealed to the rest of the army who I really was, and what my purpose was. Not just to be a vessel for the Fell Dragon-- to be the Fell Dragon. To be inextricably linked. One couldn't exist without the other. And so, one couldn't die without the other, either.

When that moment came, my only hesitation was leaving Chrom behind. He didn't deserve to lose a valuable ally and wife. Lucina didn't deserve to lose her mother. Neither did Morgan. But there was just no other way to save Ylisse. So I plunged my own sword through my stomach and bled out, giving my army a valuable opportunity to strike down Grima where he stood.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up in the field again, Grima's mark completely gone, and Chrom didn't look angry at me at all for dying in front of him! I was pretty happy with that ending. Awakening is an awesome game!

Sorry I got a little off track there... This is often what happens when I play a game; I can't help imagining I'm the one in the story, despite knowing I'm not. Maybe it's an autism empath thing? Or maybe I just have a wild imagination. I dunno... Sorry if that was weird. Anyway, that's my answer. Grima.

[recitedemise]

First and foremost, Gale is a thinker. Indeed, he's a most decorated scholar with a marvelous mind. He'd trace the twinkle of their stars, would divine those answers to those greatest of riddles, and even when the night would expunge all lanterns, it'd be his in his that would glimmer alight. Gale is his intellect. And Gale has his brilliance. So, to say he'd considered how she'd roil in anguish, well, that, he confesses, he had longly thought on. Now, Serana deeply frowns, heart dropping to her belly. There, it lumbers unbeating as frigid as the winter, and she wears nothing, no color, but a frothing grey.

With his own in his chest now breaking a little, he, as usual, had considered that, too.

But never, never in a hundred years — a thousand! a million, in fact! — had this blustering wizard cared ever to hurt her. She must know that, surely, gaze shadowing in the likeness of an autumn-gloom hearse. He'd meant only to warm her, to chase out that cold in the river of her bones. Gosh, he'd have strung up the sun in her chest if he could, but for all that magic still weeping past his skin, this, that necklace, was all he could manage. He'd like to saddle her with dawn, watch her bleed with its breaking; however, voice now tight with the squeezing hand of grief, she now, in a different way, rightfully cracks.

He didn't let her choose, though Serana's used to that.

It's just another wrong on her person in a mile-long list.

"I—" Gale fumbles. He looks to her, cowed, and not for the time, is so very desperate to bridge their distance. But you shouldn't, he scolds himself, pulse beating like a rocket in the seat of his throat. He has bled on her plentifully, drenching her selfishly in sheets of yearning. Now, with all this tension boiling to a point between them, he fears it will leave his feelings plain to see. "I am—" foolish, martyring, no, oh, good gods "—a well that's down to its dredges, Serana." A corpse. "With my condition, hoarding whatever pittance I have left would have offered us little. I'd have given it a moment, perhaps a tenday had I the heart to be generous about it, but you now possess something that won't wither with the years." Unlike him, this wizard, "you've something undying."

"This way, I can keep you warm well after the stars blink out."

It hurts. It hurts, bleeds, splits open like a corpse to a bed of swamp rot, and it pools and drips and hurts, hurts, hurts. Those words, flooding now in the dark that coldly keeps him, sours with the treachery of his dying breath. She strikes him so alone, stood there the lamb for both father and mother. Yet, had Gale gall enough to dare the most painful of steps, he could wrench every noise she's still keeping in her swallow. He could share in her shivers. He could fill her with breath. And, gods, how he longs to, hapless as she takes to the harrowing midnight. Following, he's weak to the pull of her turpentine gravity — his earth, all beauty, and him, the moon.

 "You should never ask that question," this man pleads, pained, and, god forgive him, bare, so bare, and vulnerable as usual. It should be a threat, really, but it sounds a great deal like he's coming undone. She's a whirlwind of emotions where he's a maelstrom of moods, and where can they put this? This torment and grief? Both their bodies are shuddering, a cry welling in their bellies. Their bodies, his own, cannot endure. "I'd sooner ask you to look over everything you've already showed me. Look at all those night's we had shared. Your laughter and kindness I wouldn't trade for the world. Don't offer me more, Serana, when I'm mad with the thought of enduring it all. I'm on months of restraint that have left me tortured, and I can't undo it. You shouldn't ask that of anyone." He can't give her such heartache! And he won't double her regrets! When he reaches for her hand, his knuckles dribble out black. "Don't make me stand here and say, please, offer me everything."

He's dying. A kiss, forgiveness, your heart. He's allowed to be a little selfish, isn't he?

what has she done to be put in situations like this at such dappled moments in her life ?? so often , serana thinks , others will make decisions for her , expecting her to follow along , as if her say in the matter meant little. a CHILD who never asked to be born in a cult where her purpose was to be offered to their god. a WOMAN who never asked to be the crux of a prophecy for her people. a DAUGHTER who didn't want her encasement in a tomb to be the solution to her father's insanity. and now this ?? not once in centuries had her own thoughts been considered amongst those that made these choices in the pinnacle moments of her life. or , maybe in gale's case , it wasn't that her say didn't matter but that he knew she'd've never allowed it in the first place. so in the end what was the point of including her in his thought process when this was a gift. even worse , why ask opinions on a gift that drains your very essence ??

as he speaks , he'd see the passing of expressions fall across moonlit skin. once composed , now riddled with horror , pity , fear , guilt , anguish ;; all kaleidoscoping , fighting for longer moments on her face so that he could see. he had to see. " why. . . " barely whispered before his final words. then. . . a pregnant silence between them. where once her hand was holding to the amulet so tenderly , now it sits there against her skin a lone shimmering ember amongst a sea of snow as she's unable to bring herself to touch what was the flickering light of his fading calling. something the vampire had consumed from him without even knowing , and frankly , wanting to. " i find myself. . . " serana begins , achingly slow , tone so markedly different from how bright it had been when he'd breached the door of her tent. " . . . confused. . . maybe is the best word. . . no , perhaps it's perplexed , at what i have done to make the people around me think i don't want a choice in matters where i'm directly involved. " she swallows something thick back from erupting out of her throat. " you see. . . i didn't get to choose this. immortality , that is. it was a by product , a lucky one in fact , of being offered to our god as all our women are EXPECTED to do , and had i not survived , the only outcome is death. i didn't get to choose to be locked away in a tomb in the underdark for the foreseeable future , which is again , potentially eternity , alive , only to hope on the off chance that either my mother would come back for me or that someone would find me. it was EXPECTED of me to follow along for the betterment of my kind. and now ─── "

how does she explain this ?? how does she express to him properly the horror she feels at what he's done ?? the feeling of losing something she's only just gained ??

"─── i'm given , by the blood , gale , arguably the most beautiful and thoughtful gift i've ever been given in eons and now i'm told that it's been given at the cost of someone i've grown to care so much for , EXPECTED to be gracious. what am i supposed to do ?? this thing crafted with nothing but love ─── " the choice of word completely lost on her as she continues " ─── now tainted forever because it's drained you of every last drop of the thing you hold most dear to you. how am i to be expected to cherish this properly now ?? tell me. because had you asked , i would've told you this was enough. just us. here. together. all of that was enough for me , gale , why couldn't you see that ?? " there's an understanding deep down that maybe his intention was to never let such a thing be known. not until after he was long gone.

which is the worst outcome ?? knowing ?? or living in ignorance ??

that's the thing with warmth that she forgotten about. not just the balmy summer days but the way that , without any wind to cool down , it becomes so stifling. and soon , what was once a picture perfect day welcoming the sun's life-blessing rays feels all too similar to a dank , musty tomb where you can't breathe in the stygian darkness that surrounds. breathing being the least of her concerns , it still brought about the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped somewhere you suddenly couldn't get out of , no matter your fortitude or strength. ( and you're suddenly back in that stone tomb screaming for your mother-- ) it hurts. her heart pangs as if the muscle were dying again. pairing that with this overwhelming dread at this man whom she loves (!!) condition worsening because of her , panic leeches onto her psyche and gnaws with it's abominable teeth.

the tent opens , serana scrambling gracelessly out until she can stand in the open mountain air , taking breaths she doesn't need in an attempt to calm the oncoming distress that wanted to claim her. cooling air that whips through the stone barely breaks past the enchantment that embraces her. too much. curse this !! why was this too much !! why does she want to wear it forever and at the same time rip this delicate thing off so that it's only gifted to the empty mountaintop ?? why is she elated to be given such a tender thing and at the same time feel like she's going to collapse at the thought that he'll waste away to nothing because of it ?? why does she want to scream and cry and shove him away and at the same time feel that him holding her would be the solution to all this pain ?? it takes everything not to turn at the sound of soft footsteps coming up behind her , yet she can't stop herself from continuing to wallow- " freely given for what ?? what good is it knowing what i've taken from you ?? as if my own existence isn't already a testament to that very concept ?? it isn't fair. i don't want to just take and take and take , i want to give , gale. tell me what i can give !! "

say it !! say it so you can know that i knew i'd be lost without you the moment you'd opened that crypt. i love--

[goldentournesol]

The Love Hypothesis (Eight)

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: this fic is ending soon :( i’m not ready

The words on the small screen bled into each other slowly as she stared at them. Her heart was beating too fast, her throat was working too slow to deal with the rapid drying of her mouth. The short breaths came too quick until her knees couldn’t keep her up anymore. She hit the mattress with a thud, clutching her phone tightly to her chest. 

“Y/N/N, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Kira rushed to her side, taking a seat beside her on the bed.

Mark quickly got her a glass of water and she sipped on it. A few moments later, Y/N gathered her scattered sanity and looked at Kira.

“I need to tell you something, but I don’t want you to get mad.” She took a deep breath, bracing herself.

“What’s going on? You’re scaring me.” Kira grabbed Y/N’s hand in her own and squeezed it reassuringly.

“None of this is real. Spencer and I aren’t really dating and we aren’t in love.” Y/N said, her voice wobbly.

Kira scoffed, “The hell you aren’t. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him.”

Y/N shook her head, “I uh…I mean, well yes, I may have some...big feelings for him, but none of that was supposed to happen.”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Did you know about this?” Kira glanced at Mark, who stood before them.

“Yes. Okay, here’s the deal. Y/N and Reid aren’t actually dating. They were fake dating because Y/N wanted to convince you that she was over Andrew--which she was never really interested in him anyway, but you wouldn’t believe her. So, she lied and told you that she was dating Reid so that you could finally date Andrew in peace. I’m not sure what Reid’s getting out of it--I forgot to ask.” Mark rambled, explaining what she now realizes is a very ridiculous circumstance. There was a beat of uncomfortable silence while Kira was processing the information. 

She very slowly turned to Y/N, “What?” she asked. “You fake dated Spencer Reid? Spencer. Fucking. Reid.”

Y/N cleared her throat and nodded. Kira suddenly burst into laughter, standing and putting her hands on her thighs to brace herself.

“This can’t be real life. No, this is a movie with D-list actors! Or...or a poorly written fanfiction!” She exclaimed.

“I’m sorry I lied to you, Kira…I didn’t think--”

“But you’ve kissed him! In front of the campus coffee shop when he disarmed that student!”

“Only because you forced me to--”

“But you sat in his lap in the lecture hall! And--and tended to his wounds and kissed him again--”

“Again because you forced me to, are we sensing a pattern here or what?”

Kira gulped and shook her head in disbelief, “I can’t believe this…you guys--you just made so much sense together. I thought it was so romantic because he had this reputation of being such a badass FBI agent but in reality he’s a sweetheart and you’re just so shy so I thought I was encouraging you to express your feelings. I never thought--gosh, I feel horrible!”

“Wait, you’re not mad at me?” Y/N said, her eyes big with wonder.

“Mad at you? No, if anything I’m mad at myself for making you do those things.” Kira frowned and pulled her in for a hug, “I do, however, think that this was a misguided, reckless decision on your part and frankly a little idiotic, but you’re my idiot and I love you. I’m truly flattered you’d do that for me. We’ll need to talk about this way more, but for now you still need to tell Reid about what happened with Carter. You were verbally harassed and sexually assaulted and you have audio proof. If the situation were reversed and something happened to Spencer, you’d want to know, right?” She had a point there.

Y/N sighed a deep, guttural sigh and shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. There was no way she could continue this fake relationship with Spencer. Not when it looked like she was sleeping her way up to the top. She was just starting her career in academia--three years is nothing in the long run. She can’t start it like this…no matter how much she loved Spencer. Besides, he doesn’t even need her anymore. His funds were unfrozen and he can start researching. The grant he needed was already there. After explaining to them why Spencer agreed to fake date her, it seemed ridiculous in hindsight.

About a half hour later, Mark and Kira had to leave to attend a talk they were both interested in--Y/N had so much on her mind that it was practically impossible to feign interest in the topic. They didn’t push her to join, thankfully. Despite her loss of appetite, she made sure to eat more of the breakfast that had been sent whenever she started feeling dizzy from her thoughts. 

After forcing herself to wash her face and try to look presentable, she went down to the lobby and browsed around the convention. Small tables were lined up with people conducting and presenting all different kinds of research. It was endlessly fascinating what the human brain could come up with and it was such a shame that her spirits were so low. She would have reveled in discussing topics with fellow researchers, no matter how far their interests deviated. 

It was relatively easy to kill time until she got the text from Spencer that he’d finished his meetings and rejoiced at the fact that he’d (finally) managed to send her his location without instructions. The location was a quaint restaurant near the hotel he had the meetings at. 

A short Uber ride later and there he was, sat at a round table with red cloth and a charming candlelit centerpiece. Her heart squeezed in her chest more with each step she took to follow the host to where he was. 

His face broke out into a grin as soon as he saw her, “Hey, you made it.” His smile was blinding and it shattered her.

She halfheartedly smiled when he squeezed her hand in greeting as she took her seat across from him. One squeeze and she pulled away, resorting to hiding her fidgeting hands under the table. If he thought her behavior was strange, his expression didn’t let on.

“How did your meetings go?” She stammered her way through the question, eager to get his attention onto anything else but her.

He shrugged, “Boring, standard meetings with higher-ups. I don’t remember people in academia being so pretentious when I was getting my degrees.” He quipped, the corners of his mouth raising. He seemed to be in a good mood. She hated to be the one to ruin it, so she stalled. They engaged in more small talk, but mostly she focused on trying not to bring the mood down.

But halfway through dinner, Spencer visibly tensed at her reserved behavior. Of course he’d noticed, nothing could get past him. He had let it slide, knowing that the day before had been difficult for her, but nothing he was saying was cheering her up. He couldn’t even get a smile to reach her eyes and it made concern pool in his gut. 

After watching her toss a pea back and forth with a fork, he finally asked, “Is everything okay?”

Her heart got caught in her throat and no amount of swallowing could get rid of it, so she nodded and smiled a little. But Spencer, ever the profiler, saw right through her.

“It’s about the funds being released, isn’t it?” He was naively hoping that she’d forget about it--or pretend like it wasn’t a part of their deal. She released a sigh and her shoulders deflated, even if he wasn’t actively reading her body language he could tell that she didn’t want to have to talk about this.

“Our time is up. We made a deal. We both got what we wanted out of this…arrangement.” She was speaking pragmatically, trying her best to remove her feelings from the equation as if that made it any easier. She was made aware of what everyone thought of this relationship, and it was easy to say that people’s opinions of her didn’t matter, but in reality they did. She wanted to succeed in academia because of her hard work. Panic slid its way through her veins as she thought back to yesterday’s events and shivered slightly when she remembered the feeling of Carter’s slimy hands on her.

A certain emotion she couldn’t place passed over Spencer’s face a split second before a mask of indifference took its place, “Right…you’re right.” 

His posture stiffened as he recognized the extent to which he’d lost his objectivity. He’d fallen for this woman. Hard. And now she was pretending like none of what they’ve been through ever mattered. He couldn’t show his emotions, but something deep, deep down in his gut felt off. His gut was always right. She wasn’t being genuine, her tells were too obvious but he didn’t push.

“I think it’s time we…uh, ‘break up’, which is a weird thing to say considering we were never actually together. But yeah, people will stop seeing us together and they’ll eventually think that things didn’t work out and there will be something new they can gossip about,” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but her shaking leg under the table told him otherwise. Spencer cast a cursory glance over the restaurant just to check that no one was using her to mess with him, just out of habit, and he found nothing.

 “I’m so, so happy for you for finally being able to research non-pharmacological treatments methods for schizophrenia. And I want to thank you, for all you’ve done for me. All the dinners, the coffees, the moral support…” she paused, her eyes stinging and welling up with tears, “and just in general, everything. Thank you and I’m sorry. I really have to go right now.” She picked up a tissue from the table because she would unfurl into a sobbing mess as soon as she stepped foot outside the restaurant.

“Y/N,” he said softly, concern growing more in his chest with each second, “if you need anything, really, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me. I will always be there for you.” He reminded her softly.

On her way out, she selfishly tipped his head up to her new height and allowed their lips to meet for a few seconds. One last kiss. Before she left the man who owned her heart in the middle of a restaurant in a strange city.

---

Spencer never came back to the hotel she was staying at, where the convention was being held. She didn’t know for sure, but she assumed he’d stayed at the hotel where his meetings were held. Today was the last day in Boston, it had been exactly two days since she’d broken up with Spencer. Her days consisted of alternating between crying and convincing herself she was okay enough to converse with other humans. She thankfully didn’t have to stay far from home for much longer, but the overwhelming sadness was becoming too much to bear.

“You don’t look too good,” Kira said, affectionately grabbing her shoulder after she had spent the last 10 minutes conversing with another grad student from Oxford University at one of the many tables in the conference hall. Their research was similar and the other student offered some insight on what research was like in the UK and if it was any different. At least that’s what Y/N had caught from the conversation. She’d been living inside her own head and on her face was a permanent stony expression.

Y/N shook her head and whispered, “I-I can’t do this, I’m sorry. I thought I could try and be normal but I can’t.” Kira’s face crumpled in sympathy, but she didn’t want that anymore. All she wanted was completely off limits.

Devastation was hard to explain to someone who hasn’t felt it the way you have. Sure, everyone’s experienced some sort of it, but none like your own. Y/N’s devastation was unique only to her. Her annihilation was of her own doing, which only ruined her further. She could only helplessly follow Kira as she led her outside to a quiet courtyard. There was the sound of the soothing trickling of water from the fountain before them.

“Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.” Kira spoke softly as Y/N gripped the bench where they were sitting. 

She took a shaky breath, “I feel…I feel like I can’t breathe right. I feel like I want to cry. I feel like I might never be happy in another relationship after him. I feel like I will never stop wanting to be with him. And…I can’t help but feel like breaking up with him was the worst thing I could have done.” A small sob escaped her as she confessed. She expected to feel lighter, but she didn’t.

“Keep going.” Kira prompted with a nod. She was always a good listener. Y/N’s fingertips hurt from gripping the bench so hard.

“I feel like some moments between us were real. At first it all began as a ruse to fool you and to fool the board. And it was so awkward at the beginning, believe me. But afterwards, it all came naturally. Being with him felt so natural, kind of how you don’t even think of breathing…it just happens. It just happened with Spencer. I didn’t have to think about it anymore. Eventually, I was kissing him because I wanted to, not because I wanted anyone to see us kissing. I wanted to hold his hand,” she choked on another small sob, “I wanted him to hug me. I wanted to tell him stupid little jokes to see his eyes roll before he’d counter with an even stupid-er joke. God--sorry, that’s so cheesy.” She hastily wiped her tear striped cheeks with the backs of her hands before tilting her head up to the sky and focusing on her breathing.

“Don’t be sorry, Y/N/N. You’re heartbroken and in love. You deserve to want those things, you deserve to have them.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever love anyone the same way again.” Y/N confessed, the tears leaking out like a faucet at this point, gravity taking them into her hairline as she rested her head against the back of the bench.

“What if you don’t have to?” Kira asked.

“What do you mean?” Y/N sniffled.

“What if you don’t have to love anyone else? Why’d you break up with him? How do you know he doesn’t feel the same way?” Kira’s questions felt like they were on their way to open a can of feelings she didn't really want to open. Y/N hesitated to answer before she sat upright and stared off into the distance.

“You don’t understand, if he doesn’t feel the same way, I would be beyond devastated. I’m just protecting myself. I don’t want to be the student that slept her way to the top. I want to earn it. And I feel so shaken up over the whole thing with Carter.” She explained, mostly to herself than to Kira.

“I get that, hun, what happened absolutely sucks, but you’re devastated now. How protected do you feel?” Kira asked and it felt like a jab in Y/N’s side, enough to make her chuckle a bit.

“Not at all.” She huffed in response.

“What did he say to you when you broke it off?”

“He…he told me that he would be there for me no matter what. And that I could always reach out to him.” Thankfully the tears have stopped, but the heaviness in her chest remained.

“Alright, let’s look at it from a different angle. The man has what--two PhD’s?”

“Three…and two BA’s.” Y/N provided.

“Okay, so we know he’s a scientist and scientists value proof. What else was he? An FBI agent. Not just any FBI agent, no. He was part of the BAU. You know, the people who analyze behavior for a living?? He has like over 15 years of experience in the FBI, you know what that means? It means he values justice. And we know he cares about you, enough to insist that if you ever needed him you could reach out. Guess what, Y/N? You need him.”

Y/N shook her head, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I mean you need to tell him about what went down with Carter. You have hard evidence. You’ll feel less guilty over what happened and he’ll be able to help. Who’s better to have by your side?” She reasoned.

She was right, Y/N knew it. But she was still so ashamed and felt so guilty that those thoughts overrode anything else. Exhaling heavily and bouncing her knee, she ran through what would happen if and when she told him.

“You’re right, but…I don’t even know where he is--if he’s here or if he’s back in DC. I can’t exactly just call him up and ask him where he is.” Y/N moved onto the next phase of fidgeting and started picking at her nails.

“Well…does he use an online calendar or something?” Kira asked and Y/N shook her head.

“No, he doesn’t really need reminders for events. Although he can be a little bit scatterbrained at times, it wouldn’t hurt to use a calendar.” Y/N nervously rambled.

“You know who might have his location?” Y/N looked at Kira curiously, “Remember when I helped out this redhead, Kristen, track down a bunch of participants for her to interview in like our first year of grad school? Yeah, she’s the secretary of the psych department’s chair now and should know about the professors’ schedules. She owes me one. I can cash it in right now.” Kira raised her brows in an offer.

“You would do that for me?” Y/N stared at her.

“Please, you fake dated a professor and fell in love with him by accident for me, it’s the least I could do.” She laughed slightly, already tapping away at her phone. 

A short phone call with Kristen later and a few minutes where they allowed her to check for any emails or reminders from Spencer and his location was sent.

He was at a dinner with a few professors from Princeton. And she absolutely had to go see him before she lost any steam.

previous chapter/next chapter

feedback is always appreciated!

taglist:  @punkndisorderrly @midnigtmoon @fandomstuffff @jackiehollanderr @reidsbookclub @erikakhemarika @jpegjade @mess-in-side @beepbooptoop @samuel-de-champagne-problems @mcumorningstar @ssawonderland @eesha266 @pastelbabygirl19 @gubesboo @nygmaperry @spideygenius @pumpkinspence   @hoshihiime @jrosefangirl @brooklyn-illio @kenny-0909 @livelaughandnotsomuchlove @abbygraceasd @spideyreid @alltooreid @cherriesrae @reidingmelodies @whiteowel @captainbarness @brywrites  @mrs-dr-reid  @the-mouse27 @hotchnerswhore16  @falling-solar-system @lovemesomeavengers @trishmarieofficial @breadbutitsactuallyarock @foxy-eva @blameitonthenight21 @ilovespencerreidmarryme  @pretty-boys-book-club  @80strashbag @s-reid1996 @spencerreidisbae123  @lassmich1 @emalee-heppner @dirtygloss @cherrycandle @starenemy @crowfootwrites @xhaliemax @daddyjackfrost  @ilovespencerreidmarryme @spencerreid-mgg @onlyssca  @nycreid @reidsconverse @spookydrreid @andiebeaword @pheonist @hellophantoms @kbakery @gloriouslokius @death-becomes-her @assemblemotherfuckers @mypurplecrocs @wentz2005 @cielopain @wdytminy  @mtnfgl @mexicosuitrry @ranprivate @vxnuette @i-love-nora @codedbeauty @wittlewowa @cottageworm @paper-ash-ink @simplymurdock @rhyannevibes @sarahcameronswife @vanclaudewho @justpeachykeeeen @thebloomingeagle @ranprivate @aperrywilliams @imaginecrushes @skirting-punk @bakugouswh0r3  @emqueex  @im-just–trash @duskraven22 @nthng-lsts-frvr @amysteryspot  @liltimmyst @the-wizard-izumi @pumkinbuchanan @phoenixica24 @whoreforbau @broccoliandwheeze @user-2947 @zephyrmonkey @Dreamer-nation @futuremrsreid @ashleighhelner @pchs-n-crm  @langcvn @just-to-reblog-fics @lazyrivrr @ivegot-daddy-issues @kbakery @lovelyxtom @reidingspence @yunsprout @jori21 @littttlebitchwithcat @tclegane @ficfanatictrf @asgardstudios @srawberrycow @abhorredlara @revivedhyperfixations @bumlyn @introvertatitsfinest @basicallynotbreathing  @wildflowerliv @Chloesomebody @cuteasdeath @hwajumie @nox-ceur @616wilsons @yazzyu @castielryan @toohighhopes @encyclo-reid-ia @mggspo @busybeingtrash @preciousbabypeter @barrechim @bilesxbilinskixlahey @reveredredhead @donutscrows-and-shinytoes @skkskskshsksjsjsjsjshks​ @spencerreidsmainhoe @honey1412

JOIN TAGLIST HERE!

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

can I ask what you miss about 2019? i didn't join until last year...what was it like?

Long rant beneath

The community was just so much bigger than what it was now. There were so many creators pumping out stories and artwork left and right, everything was fresh and original, hell even with Sanders Sides running amok everything was a new concept because you could mix and matched like 8 personalities in any setting you wanted. Fearplay was a lot more popular, too. Everyone made something and everyone reblogged something

But now it's just...stale. It's the same five creators over and over again because everyone else either left on their own or were squeezed out of the community. Everything needed to be fluffy and wholesome, only soft hearted male giants or epic, badass giantesses. Fics can only be 1% angst and 99% comfort, and all of those things are just not my style.

"Well if you don't like it, create your own work" I did and I love Star Wars rip off so much, but pretty quickly once everyone else started leaving I was bled dry because I was one of the few fearplay authors left. If you want constant engagement, you have to post damn near daily, which I normally don't have the luxury of doing seeing as I work full time and write at least 10K

Not to mention the community itself is so clique-y, which I've said before. It's not those same 5 creators fault that they got so popular and everyone only flocks to them, they're just trying to make something that brings them and their friends joy, but I'm so tired of seeing the same fic/art 8 times a day on my dash. Especially when they're character types I already don't care for. And if you're not friends with those creators? Forget having your work seen outside of your mutuals, it's almost like you need those creator's stamp of approval saying "Yep, this is a good post because I like it!"

And I'll be honest, I used g/t as a way to cope with my sexual assaults and baby loss. I liked being able to create dark fics with big, oppressive forces and tiny, helpless victims as a way to vent through both POVs. I liked being in control of the concept of overpowering. And now it's like...that's not allowed. You get messages or comments telling you certain tropes are fucked, or gosh these characters are swell but this would be 10000% better if it was uwu pure sugar fluff. No, I want it to be fucked up, I want to explore darker themes. "But g/t needs to be sfw because it's a comfort!!" Yes. It's my comfort as well, you don't get to gatekeep how I make my OCs act.

Also, being an author in the fandom these days is just harder than it used to be. No one wants to sit down and read a fic, they just want to see the pretty visualizes your or someone else made instead. Before, fics FLOODED the g/t tag and it was as magically as Matilda going to the library for the first time. So many stories at your fingertips! Now it's 90% art, which is fine! Art is beautiful! I've made art myself and I've had lovely followers make art for me which I am incredibly thankful for. But it's like that shortened attention span, you know? Why sit down a read a 20K fic when I can just look at art of the crux scene in 10 seconds and get the whole vibe? You're shit out of luck if you're not a popular artist to begin with.

I could really go on and list specific blogs and the shit they've done, but that's not fair of me to do. It's not intentionally their fault. That's just how the pieces happened to fall I guess. And really right now, I'm eight times more emotional than normal because my hormones are rampaging and slagging me with baby blues. Like I said, g/t used to be my coping mech for this type of thing, but with how the fandom is now, it's just not working like it used to and is making my mood feel even worse because of it.

I may end up taking a hiatus in the very near future, I may even end up retiring this blog altogether because I don't see the point in keeping up with a fandom that doesn't make me happy anymore. I'll sleep on it of course before I make any hasty decisions, I might bounce back in a couple days once my uterus stops making me depressed, but we'll have to see.

Hey, if you made it this far into my rant, please remember to reblog stories from small creators that you like. Please remember to give newbies in the g/t tag a chance instead of waiting for your fav content creator to give the all clear and declare the new work a hit, especially since they're all their own clique and hardly seem to reblog outside of each other anyways (like a little popular club whirlwind). If you want new and fresh content, then you gotta help expand the new and fresh content, otherwise authors aren't going to be as inclined to continue to develop it.

It's been a trip, y'all. Have fun out there

[wamulu-gorillaz]

I love your imagines and I was wondering if i can get ace and murdoc ( separately ) with a crush or s/o who is an errand girl or assistant to the band who is kind hearted and adorkable but gets very flustered around them and stutters a lot? Also gets nosebleeds if they get teased or flirted with by the green boys? I love those two 😩💕💕💕💕

I cannot tell you many times I started this request only to have it disappear when I accidentally closed the tab... my GOODNESS. Also I’m sorry that it took so long to get this one out. I hope you enjoy!

Ace’s Crush:

Listen - he absolutely melts inside every time you go near him but he’s very, very good at keeping it calm and suave. He flirts subtly, might flex a bit when you’re around... but

This one time yours and his fingers touched ever so slightly when you handed him a coffee. A surge of electricity shot through his veins and he nearly dropped the cup.

In that moment, you were both a flustered mess and his face flushed with a pinkish glow. This was probably the moment you realised that you were both more alike than you’d previously thought

The first nosebleed, he definitely panicked over! He made a little flirtatious comment and then BOOM - your nose started gushing. All the colour drained from his face and he didn’t stop apologising for a long, long time

His day is always immediately made better when he hears you’re working 

You maybe once overheard a conversation where Noodle was trying to encourage a nervous Ace to ask you out... To which he responded “I dunno, Noods... they get nosebleeds every time they come near me... That’s like a bad omen or somethin’. A surefire way t’ tell they hate me.” (Noodle roles her eyes because he’s obviously stoopid)

Ace’s S/O:

He never asks anything from you while you’re working. In fact he almost becomes YOUR assistant by being the one who fetches YOU hot drinks

If he does ask you for anything, he will always make sure to return the favour by getting you something as well

ONLY ever flirts with you when he has tissues handy. He never wants to make your nose bleed on purpose but MY GOSH the way you get all flustered makes him fall more and more in love with you

When the two of you get home at the end of a long day, he knows you’ve been doing most of the work so he’ll rush to get a bath running for you and start cooking dinner - he’s always making sure that you know how grateful he is for you (even though you get paid to be helpful bahaha)

If you’ve ever felt insecure or worried about what he thinks of your stutters, I want to remind you that he’s so, so patient and gives you the time you need to get your words out. Growing up, his best friend had a speech impediment so he’s knows a little of what you go through

You two getting flustered or embarrassed over being hesitant to show physical affection while at work is the most awkward and painful thing to watch hehehe

Murdoc’s Crush:

Unlike Ace, any excuse to see you means that he’s always getting you to do things for him - even things like ironing his underwear before an interview

The first time your nose bled, he took off his shirt and used it to help clean it up. He wasn’t phased at all and loved the opportunity to show off 

He always seems to be slightly more pleasant when you’re around - like he’s making an effort to make you think he’s not a total jerk

When you get all flustered he uses the excuse that he gets it all the time from his fans *hair toss* 

HAS ACTUALLY LAUGHED OUT LOUD TO ONE OF YOUR ADORKABLE JOKES - SNORTED, EVEN

He wasn’t even embarrassed about it - he admitted proudly and boasted about how you were able to make him laugh while people who’ve known him for decades (the rest of the band) have barely been able to do that

Murdoc’s S/O:

If he asks you to fetch a coffee (or rum) for him, you can bet he will ambush you with kisses when you come to deliver it

Gladly shows you off to the rest of the crew and to all the celebrities he interacts with 

Once gifted you a WHOLE BUNCH of embroidered handkerchiefs for your nosebleeds (which came into use pretty much straight away)

An onlooker would probably shake their head at Murdoc who seems to be making fun of your stuttering but... the truth is, you’re both stuttering messes and he really loves that about the two of you - you just sound like you’re talking wobbly bobbly

I’m not sure whyyyyy but I just have this headcanon that your adorkable puns turn him on okay? okay

Whenever you get all flustered or overwhelmed, he reminds you that he’s there for you by entwining his fingers with yours. Sometimes it works... sometimes the sweet act makes you even more flustered bahaha