#my mom keeps telling me I ought to and if it would be possible at all to make any money for doing fun crafty stuff

[ibrithir-was-here]

Hey question, if I were to want to start maybe making crafting videos, anyone got recommendations for good cheap (or free if possible 😅) editing software?

[likeshipsonthesea]

I love your recent posts about Eddie and Shannon and their relationship. I just don’t see how the show can address any of that with the way they’ve written this arc. There’s no one who can criticise Eddie’s feelings of ‘she was the love of my life, I’m broken without her’ except us the audience. There are no characters who saw their relationship as it actually was, so how can the show steer Eddie in that direction? I feel like they’re gonna leave it as she’s his Great Dead Love and that’s that

i see what you mean, and tbh i'm not sure what the show is going to do with this arc on-screen. they have a bunch of storylines to tie up in this finale episode (here's hoping we don't get any cliffhangers 🤞) and i don't know how much time they will have to devote to eddie, or even what they want to do with that time. it's possible they have a completely different perspective on this and will take it a whole other way, but i have faith that the show will tell the story they want to tell and, if the past six seasons are any indication, i will enjoy that story

all that being said, if we're talking dream arc, this is what i would want

as far as who can tell eddie "hey, you're looking at your marriage with rose-colored glasses, this is how it actually is," i've got two ideas for this. one is eddie himself, and the second is his parents, specifically helena, who has been rumored to be in the s7 finale. i'm kinda more excited about the second, so let's get the first one out of the way

eddie himself - hopefully after the clusterfuck that is explaining to his son that he's been seeing a dead ringer for his dead mom and she cosplayed as mommy to give eddie closure, eddie will talk about this in therapy, and through the skills he's learned and a frank discussion (pun intended) he will be forced to confront the reality of his marriage and start to address the trauma he has from everything with shannon

p cut and dry, my typical eddie-goes-to-therapy kinda story. we've all been here before.

now, for the good stuff 😈 (putting this under a read-more bc i have Thoughts)

helena. the diaz mother we all know and have complicated feelings over. or not-so-complicated feelings over, given the "don't drag [chris] down with you" line. i know i keep asking y'all to think of things from the white woman's perspective, but bear with me just one moment while i do this again

helena married into a large mexican family in the 80s. she had a mother in law whose cooking was renowned, a husband always away on business, and three children to bring up along with keeping her home together. given how everyone in their family seemed to treat shannon, i'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume there were some heavy expectations on helena to be the wife everyone thought ramon deserved, and i'm gonna assume that meant a lot of tradition--cooking the right things, doing the holidays the right way, teaching the kids the right values, etc. etc.

i think it was hard. i think helena didn't always meet the expectations put on her. i know it was played as a joke, but during ramon's retirement party, eddie and pepa were concerned that helena was cooking a specific dish (i can't remember which one atm) until abuela assured them she was in charge of it. meaning this is probably a running joke, helena not cooking things as well as she ought to.

also, raising three kids with a physically absent husband in a town that (i'm assuming) is full of in-laws seems hard to me, too. (if this is sounding familiar, yes i'm about to make a shannon comparison just gimme another second). the stories we hear about eddie as a kid are yes, reflections of traditional masculinity and eddie falling short of that, but also reflections on his parenting--how could helena let her son try to cook? that should be her job, she should be watching him! how could she let him try to drive at 8? tsk tsk and all that

i think helena has become a part of the diaz family fully, but i don't think it was always easy, and i think when her son married a white woman who didn't fit the expectations of a diaz wife either, helena recognized that. i think helena saw herself in shannon so clearly.

and instead of breaking the cycle and offering shannon that support and empathy that shannon (and young helena) needed, helena enforced those expectations even harsher. helena did it, so shannon had to, too.

maybe it was out of protection--she wanted shannon to fit into the family the way helena had learned to. maybe it was common generational sentiment, i.e. it's the Right way or it's the way I did it so therefore you have to do it that way, too. maybe it was a means of reinforcing her own place in the family, as she was no longer the newbie, shannon was.

whatever it was, i don't think she was conscious of it, and especially after shannon left her son, helena refused to acknowledge she was anything like shannon at all.

until now.

(yes i've found my way back to the point, i usually do i promise--and yes my adhd meds are THRIVING rn)

both helena's husband and son have done a lot of emotional work in the recent years and i think it's likely she would take a queue from them (and if her daughters are anything like me, i'm sure they're trying to nudge her towards a therapist at every turn). helena very well may be in a place where she can acknowledge how the expectations she's lived under may have been stifling, and given her son's recent encounter with kim, she very well may be in a place to acknowledge how similar shannon was to her.

and that's where, dear anon, your point comes in.

because helena was there for shannon and eddie's entire marriage. ramon was working, eddie was in the war, abuela and pepa were in la, but helena was right down the street (idk if she was actually right down the street but you know what i mean). helena knew shannon as an 18-20yo woman, as a new mother, as a struggling mother. she was in the unique position of watching shannon go through a marriage alone and remembering exactly how that felt.

kim may look like shannon, but she has no idea how shannon felt during her marriage. eddie can say all the things he wants to say, but it's like talking to a gravestone. i think helena can say the things eddie needs to hear, even if he may not want to hear them.

....and now i really wanna write that conversation. fuck.

[fallingoutsidemoralconstraints]

TW: child abuse, violence, dark times

I want to tell this story because I see the discourse making the rounds again where parents are trying to somehow justify beating their children. It needs to stop.

I grew up in Poland. Most of what I can remember more clearly starts when I was probably around ten years old, so early oughts. You have to understand that Poland is a very conservative, catholic country. Beating up your children (because I refuse to call it discipline) is just something that's done. Not doing so is frowned upon, and can result in very badly behaved children who will hate you later in their lives. It's for their own good, you see.

I remember, one afternoon I was sent to bring my dad some money from my mum's work for his cigarettes(bank accounts weren't widely adopted as means of holding money, at least not in Poland at that time) and on my way back I bought some chewing gum for a part of the money my mum gave me. I could do math, I knew that I left enough for what my mum said was the price of cigarettes. I give the money to my dad, and he asks me if I am sure that this is enough. I say, yes, of course. He goes back, comes back absolutely furious. Says, I lied to him because that was not enough for the cigarettes. Starts hitting me. With a belt. Over, and over again. "Because you lied" he keeps saying. This repeats through the afternoon. We don't have a phone. I try to explain that my mom told me that it would have been enough. He doesn't care. When mom comes back from work and tells him that yes, actually, it should have been enough and it just must have been the cigarettes that got more expensive since the last time he bought them. I don't think he was particularly remorseful, but he said to me, in a hand - off manner "you can hit me back if you want to". What the fuck was a 12 year old even supposed to do with that? This was, by no means, the first or the last time. He would often say that I "provoke him" that sometimes "the red mist descends" and I was a CHILD. When I got too big to be hit with a belt, he would punch me. Another one of his "disciplining" methods was taking all my stuff in the room, trashing it all into one pile and making me clean it up with the explicit threat that if it's not sorted out by the end of the day, it all goes into trash. This was meant to teach me to keep my room tidy. This is only possibly related, but I can only truly get around to cleaning up my flat through great effort and willpower. But I want to assure you, that while I don't remember everything, because memory is fickle and trauma has a way of distorting that, I remember how I felt when I was being hit. It doesn't matter what with, whether it was a belt or the first later. It was utter terror. I was a child, and no child is prepared to deal with violence. It triggers your fight-or-flight and let me tell you, neither is an option. So you are stuck in that dark place, being beaten, and your mind does not process this. I wish I could say that it shuts down, but it doesn't. You feel the pain, the terror, the betrayal. Because this is also a person that you are supposed to trust to look after you. This is supposed to be your GUARDIAN.

I want to stress this, with absolute certainty: it doesn't matter what you call it. Spanking, smacking, discipling, whatever-the-fuck. It all scars you for life. You cannot do this, you cannot be physically violent towards your child and call yourself any kind of parent. You betray your most fundamental duty that you have unfortunately automatically taken on when you had a child, regardless of which of the parents are you. It doesn't matter if you say shit like "this is for your own good" or if you explain in great detail why this is a necessary punishment. Being hit by an adult, when you are a child is FUCKING TERRIFYING and it will trigger the same response in the child's brain as any other violence. But think even more about this: when is an acceptable time to hit an adult? There are certainly adults that behave like children. Certainly petulant and obnoxious ones, and you cannot always escape them in the public places. If you would not hit them, not even a smack, why the fuck would you hit your own child then?

I did not turn out "okay". For a myriad of anxieties sitting at the back of my head, until I was maybe 27, I felt the overwhelming urge to lock my room from the inside. I have an unhealthy amount of distrust towards any parental figures (trust me, this is an issue - there are good parents out there and dealing with in-laws is a whole other tragedy not of their making). I definitely have some kind of PTSD, but in a very small silver lining the only explicit trigger is the bastard himself, my dad. Before I cut off contact with him (a crucial part of my healing), he claimed that everything was fine because "neither me or my brother ended up in a hospital" (on an possibly related note, he did once break a finger punching me).

And I want to make this very clear: the only reason, the ONLY REASON my and my brother just accepted it was because it felt like this just was the way it was. People say things like "it's none of my bussiness how you raise your kids" but it should be. Children are some of the most marginalised groups in our society, and in many countries we treat them only slightly better than the adult's property. There is a frightening wealth of information on the internet (if you look) on how to abuse your child and get away with that. How not to leave marks. How to really hurt someone. And anyone, ANYONE defending spanking, defending the "right of parents to discipline their children" is complicit in it. There is never a good reason to hit your child. There is always a way around. Nothing is worth this kind of anguish. Until corporeal punishment is universally banned and harshly punished, this will not get better, and we will alwasy be one step further away from saving a child who had it worse, whose parents had less restraints than mine.

My scars are well - healed now (mostly); I went to therapy, I read the right books, I have done the work to fix what can be fixed (and I had many friends along the way to help me accept myself again). But many who experience abuse will not be this fortunate. That's why the excuses have to stop. The smug responses of "I was hit as a child and a I turned out fine", a favourite refrain of conservatives all over the world needs to be silenced. We must break this chain of violence once and for all.

[multishipper-baby]

Anyway I'm bored and decided to make some SDRA2 fankids, but couldn't decide on what pairings to make, so I spun a wheel with all the characters for some inspo and possible combos:

Teruya x Nikei: #1 Mikado hater. Sorry both your parents died super unfairly, little one. Hopefully you don't end up consumed by revenge or some other thing that will also lead to your own unfair death.

Sora x Yuki: Oh wholesome canon ship, nice. Time to roll out the AU where everything is good and they can have their little happy family.

Emma x Shinji: I don't think these two even interacted but they'd be pretty good parents I think? So their kid can't end up too bad. Just keep them away from the snow and ice.

Hajime x Sora: I feel like this child would be genuinely very terrifying but also a huge loser. Not sure why but the Vibes are there.

Yuri x Hajime: AU where everyone truly does survive after the simulation ends and somehow Hajime killing Yuri ends up as a funny meet cute story they tell their kid many times during their childhood. Between this and Yuri's dream of dying for women, this kid definitely does consider murder to be romantic. Rip to them.

Hajime x Nikei: Hell fucking yeah I got my OTP. Not sure how they'd be with kids though... Hopefully it works out? They got practice taking care of Iroha so it can't be too bad- unless they inherit their parents' bad luck. Then it's really, really bad.

(Then I got Hajime for the fourth roll in a row, so I promptly kicked him out of the wheel so he'd stop having so many damn kids).

Setsuka x Yuri: Their kid is definitely fun at parties. And very annoying literally anywhere else. But hey, they have Setsuka as a mom- what more could you possibly want?

Sora x Hibiki: Honestly no ideas for this one. Head empty.

Setsuka x Yuri: What are the odds I got the same combo twice. Guess their first kid gets a sibling/twin? Good for them.

Kanade x Nikei: This kid is so fucked. Like literally straight up fucked. Not as much as my Kanade/Syobai fankid (that I made without the wheels interference, just for fun) since Nikei has like, morals, but still. There's no way they turn out even remotely alright. The therapy bills will be astronomical.

BONUS: I wanted at least one Mikado baby and the wheel didn't give me a single one, so I just spun for one character as the partner and got Shinji. A cross between the worst boy and the most wholesome boy... That's ought to be interesting.

So uh I might try to think about some of these later while doing homework (or procrastinating on doing my homework). If I get any good ideas I might even draw one of them...

Also only one WLW ship (which isn't even one of the ones I like) and no Yoruko representation. Big L.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary343

8/28-29/24

wendesday - thursday

sleepy now...

errands day was okay, better than last week at least, my gf is just so wound up about her mom's surgery, it's hard for me to know where she's coming from all the way because there were lots of times my mom went in for surgeries for her back and i was a kid and it didn't occur to me that things could go very wrong, and when she broke her leg and crawled all the way to the house and it was just me at home, and i didn't hear because i was in the shower and i had to call 911 and everything, i wasn't like, scared, it seemed like everything would just work out, i was like, upset of course, it's all not pleasant but it's all like, i guess complications didn't occur to me because they couldn't. all the stuff my mom went through was like, of course she'll live. my gf's doubt i guess, it makes sense, her mother is older than mine ever was for her surgeries, i'm just, i don't know, i'm used to people living until they stop. mostly they decide to stop. her mom's survived a lot of things. it seems like her family is built like that. even if there's an infection which seems possible and even something we should all expect and prepare for (feels condescending to say prepare, what am i really going to do, all i can do is imagine and hope it doesn't, hope to figure out how to make my gf feel better if it does happen, how to help her mother, if even possible (likely not.)), but her family just seems to live, on spite mostly. my mom lived because maybe she's like me, and it's like, well, okay, i guess tomorrow is here, and that keeps happening to you, and years later you realize something has happened to you, and you can't take it back. my gf's family mostly seems to be interested in doing things to people. that's hard to divorce from living usually. i know i'm talking in all abstracts, like, it's some strange ephemeral force occupying some bodies, and not others, but it's not necessarily how i see it. i don't think at least. i can't tell. it's not about some kind of ... lottery? it's just that it gets expressed over time as a response. my grandma seemed to die in a way that said, it's time, i get this sense because i guess she was found in a small nest she made in a corner on a bunch of towels in her house, to not dirty anything else. my uncle died in a way that was also: it's time, but he made it time, by letting things get bad and never telling anyone. my friend died by killing himself, which is probably similar to my uncle, just less abstracted. my grandma on my dad's side seemed to die because it was natural, she'd had enough. she always seemed like someone who had enough anyway. her mother isn't really there, her mother drunkenly drove to utah and came back on pills or something and almost died in her sleeping, pissing herself, going to the hospital and treating the staff poorly, and then still lived. sober, now, attached to life more, receiving surgery to make pain disappear hopefully, she still seems to really want to do more. she won't slack on at least attempting to solve problems that seem to come up. this is what makes her so scary sometimes because she'll see nonexistant issues and do things that don't need to be done, just freaking us all out. but that's evidence of attachment and some kind of pro-active attitude, she's more self reliant than most people, she's so self reliant and capable she made both of her children less capable because she was always feeling that she knew better and could do better, and let them off, which creates all kinds of fucked up things. either way, if she does die, from this, it would be from over-working herself still. maybe more than the infection, she's scared nobody is gonna give enough of a shit about her to help her. in that case, should i go over and try to help for some days of the week? maybe. i guess i ought to think about that. her brother won't help, her husband won't, he's too busy going on stupid trips, getting drunk, both of them, husband and son.

it's a downer to think about, i guess. i dunno. i feel okay mostly. maybe i'm like dead inside or something. my gf seems so scared and it manifests in odd ways, she was upset today because i wanted to go home and not spend too long in a korean supermarket... i said 'we can come back, we'll be back i'm sure' and she kept saying she fought to get us there, and that we won't come back, and that's how it's coming through her, the anxiety about things changing, or maybe it's not even about death, it's just anxiety over having to wait. i don't know how to begin to help her with that, if it's the case. it's not fun not getting things you want but i guess that's also something i'm dead to and i feel bad a lot of the time because i want nothing, and get nothing, and i am nothing, so i'm given nothing. that's not true entirely only in abstract ways and abstract places (online) my girlfriend gives me all the things i need and want basically, it's that there's things i don't know i want that i can't ask for, not to make things about myself though i did but whatever. it's just odd. i feel opposite to her in some way, she can find things she desires always, i can't tell what i want, if i even want at all, usually. well i want all the time in ways but those things aren't really acceptable to write out. a way to put it is i want to be made to not think because of stuff like fire, i guess. inside my stomach. not like, alcohol obv i'm straightedge. it's other stuff.

obviously, her anxiety about it possibly happening, anything going wrong, as badly as possible, that's really well founded. i'm probably in the wrong for not feeling it as strongly. i certainly do feel bad about it on some level, i just don't know. i don't think worrying like that helps, especially not saying it out loud to her mom. but i do understand why. it's scary, horrifying probably to everyone. i'm sure if my mom went in for surgery for something i may freak out too i guess. i dunno. i just want her to not be scared.

not much else done today, some light music stuff worked on... not much else, tomorrow i'll do more, i have to sleep now,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[amfortich]

Hidden behind curtains

Was I ever not deserving of the love I can give? When will I ever be out of these curtains?

I'm not complaining, but maybe it feels good to be.

All my life I have been extremely vocal about how I feel. Although at times I do not necessarily say it right then and there, but when opportunity presents itself I would. That opportunity meant if I was certain about how I feel because I'd rather keep myself silent on the little things that do not utterly matter. My previous relationship has had its flaws, and I am no saint to tell you I haven't done any mishaps because I did, and I am open to tell you the things I did wrong but that is not why I am writing this.

I am in good speaking terms and do have respect to my 2 exes. My first ended at roughly 13 months when I was around 18, and the second lasted about almost 7 years and now I am 30. They both have something in common, both had said "we need to talk" LOL.

No, kidding aside, my family welcomed them with open arms and that felt good on my end. Imagine sleepovers and you let your guard down by having them over your 'safe space' with your family. It's just that I am always left wondering how better would it feel to be on the other end. I wonder how it feels to have your boyfriend's mom ask you how you are or sends you random facebook videos and such. Or perhaps greet you on holidays and tells you to come 'home' and spend the weekend there.

I sometimes question myself "Was I ever not deserving of the love I can give?" Because it's not just me. It's a whole lot of me. And that entails my side of the family. I have never been introduced to another family. I ought to think maybe I don't deserve to be or it's just better that way, but you can't blame me for wanting so. Maybe it's this difficult to be on a same-sex relationship especially if you're dating a guy who hasn't come out (fully) yet.

I remember this one time my ex and I went to theirs. I drove all the way from Metro Manila with him to somewhere in the south. His mom called via videocall whilst I was sitting on the staircase just adjacent to the door of the house. He had to make sure his camera did not catch a glimpse of me on the staircase. His brother and his sister was also with us that night. I just had pretend to scroll around my phone but I was painstakingly holding back my tears at the time.

When will I ever be out of these curtains? I can never tell.

In love I can always give what I can give. I would never hold myself back for wanting them to be part of my life && I can never blame them for having me stay behind curtains. In my 30 years of existence I was once told "Kaya ka lagi iniiwan eh" as a joke, and I laughed but seconds later I found myself crying not knowing why.

I don't mind to be having told "we need to talk", being set aside, be hidden behind curtains or not be known by anyone's mom and dad. I can endure all those things. I can stay && I am one to stay.

In the end, I have nothing to lose because I have already given all I can possibly think of giving.

And that means I won't have anything to regret in the end.

[orangepunkwitch-blog]

Reblogging from my main to let you guys know that if you're reconnecting with your own cultural roots for your practice that sometimes dance can be important. Since I've read that to really get Dodola's attention in any way for any reason that one should dance as well as possibly sing, I figured learning a simple Kolo dance would work. Aaaaand I ought to not do this in a robe, slippers, on carpet, with a belly full of a scrambled egg sandwich I wolfed down, lmao.

I also cannot tell if I struggle a bit with these very simple dance moves because I'm genuinely not used to dancing or if I also have some form of dyspraxia making physical coordination difficult in this context.

I ought to set a day aside where I can get dressed, throw on my docs, and borrow my husband's laptop and do this in the basement. There's some hopping involved and I really don't need my dad constantly commentating when I'm trying to do this by myself. (My dad is the type who give unsolicited advice and does not care if you don't want to hear it, and then won't shut up, and keeps you from doing anything because he won't let you focus; in short, he's an asshole who can never mind his business.)

I wanna say I've had previous experience in dancing in a Kolo line(?) and what I'm specifically referring to was a cousin's wedding back when I was in 2nd grade, but my memory is very choppy regarding that day (because how my hair was done up was a painful sensory nightmare as I was the flower girl and I was hardly allowed to sit where I wanted to). A Kolo dance did occur, but I'd just asked my parents and neither of them can remember if I participated. My mom didn't and dad's answer implied he can't recall. (Btw, that wedding was another important cultural exposure to Serbian customs, but I guess my dad wanted to be more Americanized or something; he looked for excuses not to go to that church or do much at home other than the bowl of wheatgrass and the... I think it's actually the Božićna pogača but I remember my dad claiming it's called a božnjak(?), for money and luck respectively... Because my dad is a money-minded guy (to a point where he's a miserable asshole). He does NOTHING ELSE regarding customs unless he feels it'll help him get money... Which may be why none of it works. Dude doesn't even observe any slava, either.)

So... I'm gonna take a major crack at this but I have to choose when so I don't run the risk of my dad butting in. Learning to dance will also probably help give me some cardio, and if I learn enough basic moves, I might be able to modify and create my own moves.

I'm trying to learn some simple Kolo dance lessons from this video and I made the mistake of doing this while full on breakfast wearing my robe and slippers and doing this on carpet, lmao.

[lovelylilpostitnotes]

‘86 Baby

Here is a chapter 2 of my Eddie Munson x Reader fanfiction. It follows the plot of season four, with a little time prior to the events of the show. I’ve tried to keep this fic as self-insertable as possible without making the reader’s character totally flat. And of course please feel free to use your imagination and switch details in your head if you so please. Happy reading everyone!

Here is a link to Chapter 1 if you’re new! 

(and my apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes, if you see ‘em let me know so I can fix it)

Chapter 2

By the time my lunch period finally rolled around, my brain was already dry heaving trying to contain all the syllabus information that had been stuffed into it in the span of only four periods.

At least when I got there, Robin was already waiting for me at our table we had claimed in sophomore year.

She had been my first friend when I moved to Hawkins, we did everything together. And I was the first person to know about her sexuality. She had broken down crying when she told me one night at a sleepover, which in turn made me cry, which basically just left us a big blubbering mess as we held onto each other and rocked back and forth. It was quite the experience, that's all I’ll say.

Since then she’d grown tremendously. I watched her smile more, speak to more people. She even made friends with Steve Harrington, which I never saw coming. I mean she had loathed the guy for the longest time. Then again I also never saw it coming that we would be fighting evil Russians, a racist bitch gone total horror movie villain, and a gigantic, interdimensional monster over the summer. Or that I would be well acquainted with the strangest group of children ever, including my brother’s ex-best friend, Dustin Henderson. But anyways, even though I could talk all day about the shit I’ve been through with those kids, that’s so far beside the point. I was just so proud of her, telling at least one person had taken so much weight off of her. And I only watched more and more lift away after Steve knew; Steve who was surprisingly supportive and later had long “boobie talks” with us. I mean I knew he could be understanding, but you’d be surprised how much easier it is for someone to swallow hunting demodogs compared to knowing a lesbian. Regardless, it finally wasn’t such a big secret anymore and she was better for it.

So, I listened to her ramble away all of lunch, telling me all about the new jobs she was searching for since her last one had been in the mall we basically destroyed, and how she finally landed herself one at the Family Video store in town alongside Steve.

I’ll admit I was a little distracted though, only hearing bits and pieces and humming in response. But could you blame me? Eddie Munson was sitting across the cafeteria with his signature jackets off. Meaning his Hellfire shirt was on display, meaning his forearms were on display, meaning his tattoo on his forearm was on display. God, I was a mess.

I suppose I ought to explain myself a little. I had found Eddie Munson absolutely fascinating since the first time I saw him. It was my freshman year and he was, I think, a junior at the time. I had been minding my business, sitting quietly in the hallway afterschool, waiting for my mom to come get me from the detention I had served for threatening to castrate the boy who had gotten way too up in Robin’s personal space and wouldn’t leave her be.

Who knows what he had been doing before, all I saw was his wild hair and his white shoes as he flew past me, whooping and screaming. I had about 10 seconds to register that before some guy from one of the sports teams, I couldn’t tell which, came lumbering down the hall.

“You see which way that freak went?” he spat at me.

“No um, I don’t believe I did, I was reading,” I lied with ease, shaking my book. I had no idea what was going on with the two of them, but the jocks of Hawkins High hadn’t exactly ever been nice to me so I definitely wasn’t going to help one out.

The kid narrowed his eyes at me but finally took my shitty answer for what it was and kept going the way Eddie had run just moments before.

From that moment on I found him everywhere I looked. In the cafeteria, the halls, outside in the parking lot after school. My eyes were drawn to him, I didn’t even know his name until sophomore year, but I always knew he was there. And when he started the Hellfire Club, I immediately ran to check out all the DnD books I could find in the library. It wasn’t until then that I realized I didn’t just find him widely amusing, I totally had a crush on a boy two grades above me who I’d never even spoken to before. Perfect.

It wasn’t until my junior year that we actually talked a little, but that was very briefly in the art class we both took. Yet I would still go home and think about our three sentence exchanges for hours.

He rarely showed up though, in fact his grade in that class could have very well been half the reason he didn’t graduate that year either. I’d always kind of felt bad about it, he definitely didn’t seem stupid, he just had no motivation to play along like the rest of us. Which, minus the fact that he had to keep coming back to hell on earth, was pretty revolutionary of him.

“Oi- Y/n? You listening to me?” Robin asked, snapping me out of my thoughts

“Oh- yes yes sorry, I’m just tired and zoned out a little,” I offered up the pretty pathetic excuse with a sheepish smile.

“More like you were staring at Eddie again,” she rolled her eyes at me. “You could like, I dunno, try talking to him some time.”

“I did talk to him, today, in English!” I said defensively.

“Oh really? You know, saying hi doesn’t count.”

“We talked about what music I listen to, thank you very much!”

She gawked at me. “You spoke to him for more than thirty seconds?”

“Jesus, don’t sound so surprised.”

“Sorry, sorry, I just never thought you’d do it, I mean you tripped walking into class that one time he smiled generally in your direction,” she reminded me with a sick grin.

“You absolutely suck, you know that?” I snapped. “And it’s not like you’re any better, asked Vicky out yet? Hm?”

“That is so not fair, I could get hate crimed on top of being rejected, you’d only get rejected.”

“Still, don’t lecture me about my game when you have absolutely none either.”

She stared at me for a moment before bursting into giggles. Giggles that then spread to me and had the two of us doubled over our lunches. Giggles that had Eddie Munson turning his head over towards us. Robin was the first to catch it.

“Oh shit- don’t look now, but I think Munson is looking this way,” she hissed.

“What- really?” I gasped, my eyes flying up to search for him like the idiot I was.

It took me a second to find him but as soon as I did, our eyes were locked.

He gave me a nice little smile when my gaze finally caught his, and then bowed his head with a flourish of his hand. What. A. Dork.

I felt my cheeks get rosy and I looked down at my lunch bashfully. I could hear Robin laughing but I simply didn’t care. Eddie Munson had smiled at me.

The day went by quickly after that. I had seen Eddie in two more periods, but we had been seated across the room from one another so I didn’t get the chance to pull out my smooth moves, as Robin called them, again. However, I was still perfectly satisfied by the smiles and odd faces he would send my way every time my eyes flitted over to him, which was often.

I didn’t know what it was that was different about this year, maybe the fact that we shared multiple classes, or that I’d finally talked to him long enough for him to notice me, but whatever it was, I was enjoying myself far too much.

“Hey, dingus, you giving me a ride or what?” Robin asked, sidling up on my left side and successfully scaring the shit out of me. “Jeez, could you have jumped any higher?”

“I’m sorry, you keep catching me when I'm in my head, it’s like you plan it this way,” I bit back.

“Well, I am your best friend, and you’re really quite obvious when you’re off in your thoughts or daydreaming,” her grin got wicked, “you get all glassy eyed and I can practically see your pupils turning into hearts.”

“You’re so mean to me, honestly,” I rolled my eyes as my ears burned. She wasn’t wrong, I had been fairly obvious with my infatuation despite my best efforts. You can only stare at somebody so many times before it starts to become noticeable, especially to somebody who’s known you for half your life.

“Yeah well someone has to be, because you’re a mess,” she sang with a matter of fact nod of her head.

“I am no-” my words were cut off by a familiar, slightly squeaky voice.

“Hey- Y/n- listen, Mike and I need your help,” one entirely out of breath Dustin said as he gasped for air, doubled over with Mike next to him.

“What? What’s wrong?” the urgency in my voice was clear and the terror I had felt all too many times over the summer bubbled up in my chest.

“No- no nothing like that! We are aaalllll good, all safe, everything is fine,” Dustin hurried to reassure me when he saw my face. “Mike and I just need you to come get us after a club today, we absolutely have to go and Nancy refuses to drive us.”

The terror settled down with his words, but in it’s place came violent irritation. I stepped forward and looked down at him, my eyes very still and almost blank. The same stare I had used on a Russian guard before I caved his head in with a pipe. “I will give you a ride…”

I watched as the two boys gulped.

“But if you ever run up on me like that again, acting like the Mind Flayer or some shit just reappeared in the boys bathroom, you will wish you were in the hands of the Russians again, am I clear?”

“Yep got it,” they both squeaked out fearfully.

I sighed and switched my demeanor back to normal, “what time?”

“I have to be home before 9,” Mike offered, “so um- sometime around 8:30?”

“Alright, I’ll be there,” and with that I was grabbing Robin by the arm and hauling her off towards my car.

“Jesus, are you alright Y/n?” her brows were furrowed.

“Yes, I’m fine- he just- and I just-” I sagged against the side of my car, taking a deep shuddering breath. “These past few years- it’s the most terrifying shit I’ve ever been through, and I’m always just waiting for it to come back, for something else to happen. I mean it did before- it could happen again.”

“It could,” Robin said softly, placing a hand on my arm, “but we destroyed the machine, the gate was closed again, and the military took care of everything else. There’s always going to be that ‘what if’ but you can’t live like that, or it will ruin all the good shit you’ll go through.”

I nodded, still taking a minute to calm down and let her words sink in.

“I’m scared like that too.. I still have the dreams.. But we can’t let what happened ruin everything, we deserve to live like kings after everything we had to do, so let’s live like kings, alright?” She cracked a smile for me.

I nodded again, this time smiling back, “Alright, first stop on our royal agenda, the Family Video store, most glamorous location in town.”

She laughed and shoved my head down, walking around the car to her side.

I grinned and unlocked it, getting in and starting her up. I was glad to have friends like Robin, it made the horrors of everything I saw so much easier to handle. I couldn’t move on, not yet at least, but I had people who understood. People who I could talk to, but also be normal with.

…

“Where are they? They said 8:30,” I grumbled to myself as I leaned against my car. I didn’t have anywhere to be or anything, I’d forced myself to do all my homework, but still I wasn’t a fan of standing in a dark parking lot all alone.

I was never a fan of the dark, but after learning what really could be lurking in it, the fear became 10 times more paralyzing.

I tapped my watch impatiently, considering waiting in the car again instead of making myself such an obvious target. Dustin and Mike could figure it out, I was the only car here aside from someone’s van.

But right as I was about to climb back inside and crank the radio to drown out the thoughts of being mutilated by some raging beast, the doors of the high school slammed open and out flooded a stampede of nerds. I smiled softly at the group when I recognized most of them, they might’ve been odd but they were some of the most decent kids in school.

“Hey, Y/n!” Dustin called, waving once he noticed me.

I waved back at the pair as they made their way over. It didn’t take me long to notice Eddie following behind and I felt my throat tighten up. I hadn’t known this was his club, no one had told me I was picking the boys up from Hellfire.

“So, we meet again, oh fair one,” Eddie said in one of his stupid, dramatic voices.

I felt my face flush involuntarily while Dustin and Mike wretched.

“You get any of the Macbeth work done yet?” he said, moving around the two disgruntled looking freshmen to stand in front of me.

I nodded slowly, trying to find words again. “Y-yes, um, I finished Act 1 already actually, and the assignment was nothing.”

“Impressive, I haven’t touched the thing since I passed them out,” he wore a goofy little grin as he set his hand on the car next to me.

“You better get that reading done, Munson,” I said, my eyes narrowing. “I’m not carrying your ass through this assignment. We both know you’re competent.”

“Do we now?” he popped little accents onto the words, his grin widening even further as his other hand fell to his hip.

I leaned in closer, my face set with the challenge. “You write and narrate new DnD campaigns like every week, you can read some Shakspeare and talk about foreshadowing.”

He laughed softly and pushed off the car. “You got me there,” he said, backing away towards his van with his hands up. “I like this one, Henderson, have Y/n pick you up more often, and maybe even convince the lovely high elf to come some time.” And then he was off across the parking lot.

“What the hell was that?” Dustin snapped at me as we got into my car.

“What was what?”

“Um, you and Eddie practically undressing each other in the parking lot?” Mike’s squeaky voice came from the back seat.

“We were doing no such thing,” I said with an amused note to my voice as I pulled out of the parking lot.

“You two are disgusting, keep that far away from me,” Dustin said.

“Of course, Dusty Bun,” I mocked. He had no room to be judging me here, not with the way he spoke to his “Suzie Poo.”

“Fair enough,” he grumbled, angling his body away from me.

“Ahuh, that’s what I thought.”

...

“Goodnight, Dustin!” I called as I pulled out of his driveway.

He simply waved in response, still looking slightly mortified, and then ducked into his house.

I laughed as I pulled out of the driveway and drove down a few more houses to my home. Once inside, I kicked my shoes off and hung my keys up before scurrying to the kitchen to find something to eat. After acquiring some cold chicken tenders left over from my brother and I’s “last night of freedom” fast food run, I beelined straight for my room, merely offering up a wave to my family on the way. I had a phone call to make and there was no time to waste.

As soon as I was seated on my bed, the phone was in my hand and I was calling Robin. “C’mon, pick up pick up pick up,” I chanted, buzzing with excitement.

“Hello, this is Family Video, how can I help you?” Steve Harrignton’s familiar voice recited.

“Give Robin the phone, Steve,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.

“You sound way too happy, Y/l/n, I don’t even want to know what you two are up to.”

“Hand. Over. The. Phone,” I repeated.

“Alright, alright,” He conceded, yelling for Robin a moment later.

“Hey, what’s up?” Robin said finally.

“Eddie Munson spoke to me again!”

“Details! Now!”

I giggled my way through the entire retelling, making sure to really emphasize how he’d practically pinned me to the car. Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration but it certainly felt that way to me.

“Oh you have it so bad,” Robin teased.

“You’re telling me if Vicky did that to you, you would be fine?”

“Absolutely not, but I still plan on making fun of you for all this.”

“He is such a dork, he called me ‘oh fair one,’” I was giggling again.

“I really don’t know what you see in this guy.”

We always went around in this circle, I would tell her about something he did, and she would pretend it wasn’t totally endearing and absolutely something to freak out over. We both knew she liked Eddie though, she just wanted to be difficult with me.

“I have to close up now, weirdo, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, faking exasperation.

“Alriiiight, see you tomorrow!” My voice was light and bubbly.

“Jesus,” she muttered as she hung up, but I could hear her smile.

I set the phone down and demolished my chicken tenders before getting up and getting ready for bed.

Once I was all done, I dove into my bed and grabbed one of the DnD books on the lower level of my nightstand. I had to read up if there was a chance Dustin would be taking me to the next Hellfire meeting. It was a bit of a lost cause though because I couldn’t stop thinking about how much interaction we’d had in one day. I could live off the high for a week at least. I fell asleep still on that high, smiling n’ shit like all those dopes in the rom-coms. How pathetic.

A/N: Hiii, everybody! I hope you few readers enjoyed chapter 2! Please feel free to comment feedback, I always love to be bettering my work! Mwah! See you next chapter! 

[love-square-times]

This list is according to AO3's tag search Adrinette April with most Kudos.

Just (More Than) Friends -marichatinettes

"Truth or dare?" Nino asked him, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at his friend.

The question was a dangerous one, that was something he knew for sure, but he was the one who got himself in this mess in the first place. Adrien was the one who had chosen to come to Kim's party and have fun and... sit in this circle that he hadn't realized involved spilling your secrets or doing some crazy action that would surely embarrass you.

He mulled over his options. He didn't really have anything to hide, so he went with the safe choice.

"Truth," he replied with a smirk.

"If you had to sleep with one girl in this room, who would it be?"

Remember That Time When... - mostbelovedgirl

Twenty-two-year-old Marinette Agreste was looking forward to the anniversary trip she would be taking with her husband Adrien that weekend. Those plans are derailed when she wakes up in her old bedroom... and she’s seventeen again.

Every Time We Touch - CrypticCravings (Sekaiinokoi)

Marinette couldn’t picture her parents skin without soul marks on them. Whenever they kissed or touched, her father would leave a trail of light blue on her mother’s skin, and her mom’s touch would leave streaks of red on her father. She would watch in awe as her mom drew patterns on her father’s arms, and her dad kissed strategic patterns on her mom’s skin. They reveled in each other’s touch, making Marinette eager to find her own soulmate from a young age.

don't ask questions you don't wanna know - MiaBrown

Chat Noir’s plan of asking out his classmate, only so the girl could turn him down and offer to be ‘just friends’ instead was ridiculous. Too bad there wasn’t a sensible girl who would have rejected him.

Ladybug was so sure of this, she dared to bet on it. And when the next day Adrien Agreste asked the same question from Marinette… Well, she wasn’t trying to prove herself wrong.

*** aka Plagg schemes, Adrien panics, and Marinette is being a little shit about it

Spring Fever - PerditaAlottachocolate

Spring gets to Adrien in a very peculiar way. Not only he's suddenly sure, without even a shadow of a doubt, that Marinette is the love of his life, but he also can't keep away from her. Quite literally. And then there's this mysterious fever burning within him. Plagg knows the cure but will Adrien have the guts to reach for it?

It came out of nowhere. Or maybe he just didn’t see it coming. If someone told him he’d have a revelation in the fruit trees lane he’d probably laugh out loud. Well, the laugh was on him. She’s just a friend, just a friend, he kept telling himself as his heart begged to differ. Only it was no longer his.

Adrinette April 2019 story.

you and me could write a (bad) romance - AlexSeanchai

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and didn't meet her eyes. "Sooo I kind of had a fight with my father. The part where the art room social scene comes in is, I told him I'm done modeling for anything but romance novel covers. And he doesn't believe me."

"…Romance novel covers," Marinette repeated slowly, imagination filling with Adrien in a charcoal suit waltzing with a woman in a crimson silk gown. Adrien in a pirate ship's crow's nest, poet shirt open to show his defined pecs and abs, with the black-and-red-garbed pirate queen. Adrien, blue-jeaned and shirtless and wielding a broadsword, with—

"The thing is—and this," Marc added, "is the part where Loverboy is getting all flustered—the thing is, romance novels, as a general rule, have two protagonists."

"Both of whom," continued Nathaniel while eyeing Marinette, "ought to be on the cover. Otherwise readers will get confused about the genre."

"Subtle," said Marinette. "Adjective. Antonyms include Marc and Nathaniel."

Falling for the Dork - TheNovelArtist

What’s a girl supposed to do when she realizes that her total dork of a friend is actually a perfect 10?

Be Mine, Anytime - Ephemeral_Joy

In which Adrien and Marinette keep their relationship a secret and sneak around. People know something is off but everyone kind of dismisses the possibility because it's Adrien and Marinette ffs.

Love You Like A Love Song - Dqawesomeness

As Marinette tries to deal with the burden of guardianship, she pushes everyone that cares about her away.

Adrien is determined to help Marinette and have her know that she's not alone.

He noticed how much quieter she's become, he noticed how her beautiful bluebell eyes were dull, he noticed the bags under them and he noticed how every time someone requests to hang out with her, she makes up a flimsy excuse and runs off. How is he supposed to help her if Marinette is avoiding him?

And what happens if they both get hit by an Akuma that shows your biggest regret?

Or, 30 connected ficlets for Adrinette April following the tumblr prompts.

April Weather - PerditaAlottachocolate

April weather - rain and sunshine both together. Thanks to Adrien’s overeager fans everyone in Paris now believes Marinette is his girlfriend. It seems like nothing can be done, so the teens decide to continue with the charade and start fake dating. They’re just good friends having fun, right? What could possibly go wrong? A connected story for Adrinette April 2018.

---

@adrinetteapril

If you'd like to request a list, please do so down below in the comments or in Ask.

Have a good day!

Love Square Times

5/2/22

[separatist-apologist]

Hi, it’s me, riling up anon (I really should get a tumblr account to ease my introductions and so we can become besties). Obviously, LOVE part 4! Part 5 ideas- Lucien repays the favor (obvs). He wakes up wondering how he is going to get Elain alone in the house when a gift falls into his lap - a rogue Illyrian war band is attempting to gain new territory. Exit the IC, enter elucien smut in the garden.

First of all, I would love to be besties.

Second of all, no rest for the wicked am I right? Like yesterday this is NSFW, 18+, practically unedited and obviously guarantees a part 6. It's also the longest part I've written so far. PART 5!

Elain woke with some regrets. The throb between her legs was at an all-time high and with so many people around, there was little she could do but put on a breezy, cotton gown, her wide-brimmed sun hat, and vanish into the garden where at least no one would be able to smell what was going on with her. Elain kept her thighs pressed together, hoping some of the friction would help alleviate the burn.

It didn’t, and by the time the sun was high in the sky, Elain was weeding with a grim brutality. Had Lucien left? She wanted to tug on the bond and see where he was but she didn’t want to bring him anywhere near her. Her control was too tenuous as it was. She might jump him in front of her sisters and then what? How would she possibly explain what was going on between them? She barely knew herself. None of it was ladylike…and perhaps some small part of her liked having something that was just for her. No one could offer an opinion or butt in if they didn’t know.

“Elain?” Feyre’s voice wafted from the garden wall. A moment later her youngest sister appeared in her Illyrian leathers. Elain stood, dusting off her dirty hands. “Hey…it’s nothing to worry about and not a big deal, but there was a disturbance with the Illyrian’s. One of the chiefs slaughtered a village and is attempting to take more territory. Rhys and I are going up to handle it, and I know Cassian and Nesta plan to join with the Valkyries….you’ll be alone in the house.”

Elain shrugged. “That’s fine,” she agreed, wiping sweat with the back of her arm.

Feyre bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Mostly alone…”

Elain narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

Lucien will be in the house too…not all day! But…for a while. He’s working on a treaty for Rhys and should stay in the study. He’ll leave you alone but…just in case you wanted to go out…”

Right. Elain offered Feyre a tight smile, her heart pounding in her chest. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Feyre’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “If we can’t make it back tonight I’ll send word.”

“Be safe.”

Feyre vanished, leaving Elain alone in the garden. She stood there, wondering if she ought to find him in the study and demand…demand what, exactly? It wasn’t like she was well-practiced. As she stood there, contemplating how to get what she wanted without having to just blurt it out, a hand brushed the hair from the back of her neck. Warm breath tickled her skin and when Elain spun, already aware of who was just behind her, Lucien caught her easily. He was smiling, his one russet eye dark and hungry as he gazed down at her.

“I’ve promised your sister not to bother you unless you ask,” he told her, his deep voice a shade darker than it typically was. “May I bother you, Lady Elain?”

“That depends,” she replied primly, unable to take her eyes off his lips. “On what kind of bothering you plan to do.”

A grin began to stretch across Lucien’s face, giving him a near feral appearance. “I owe you for last night.”

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. “Of course you don’t.” Lucien’s body was pressed against her own as he reached for her face, tilting it towards him. “Wrong, Elain. Tell me…can I bother you?”

“Bother me how?” She whispered, the words nearly sticking to the back of her throat.

“With my mouth, ideally,” he murmured, ghosting his lips across her own. “But I’m happy with just my hands.”

“Why not both?” She asked without thinking. She felt him smile against her skin.

“I like the way you think,” he practically purred before kissing her gently, out in the open where anyone could see. There was nothing to hide them; the garden wall would hardly come up to his hip were he standing right beside it, and though there were some lovely trees scattered about, none were broad enough to obscure what was happening between them.

Elain felt a thrill run up her spine at the thought of being so open with him. It was her that deepened the kiss, running her tongue along his lips until he opened for her. She surged upwards on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around his neck so she could revel in the way he tasted. No one had the right to smell half as good as Lucien did, like crisp Autumn air and sun washed apples, but for however good he smelled, he tasted ten times better.

She was half-drunk on the moment, lost in the feel of his hands running the length of her spine. It was so sweet, so unhurried that some small part of her wanted to revel in it. Lucien, though, had decidedly different ideas regarding what he hoped to do. Some of the sweetness shattered when his hand cupped her breast through the thin, white material of her dress while his other began rouching up the fabric.

She broke the kiss with a gasp. “Out here?” She asked. He chuckled, teasing her nipple almost absently as he gazed down at her.

“You have somewhere better in mind?”

She opened her mouth to protest, to say yes, very much so, but the look on his face stopped her. She glanced at the soft grass just beneath her feet and, before she could talk herself out of it, promptly sat down at his feet. Lucien stared for a moment and then laughed as if she’d told him the most hilarious joke, his tanned face reddening as he attempted to keep himself together.

“What?” She demanded as he dropped to one knee, and then the other until he was kneeling before her.

“You’re funny,” was all he said in response. No one thought she was funny…and never had. She wasn’t sure what to do with that information, so she tucked it away for later. “I never meant for you to sit in the grass, though.”

She frowned. “Oh?”

He was chuckling again as he hefted her into his lap. “I ama gentleman, you know.”

“Where should I sit, then?” She asked, genuinely curious. His lips curled upwards as he lowered himself to the ground and gestured at his face. Heat rose through her body and she balked, one hand pressed against her mouth.

“You’re obscene,” she accused, completely unaware people did such things. Lucien waited a beat and then, with strong, sure hands, merely dragged her across his chest until he had her placed exactly where he wanted.

“Tell me to stop,” he replied, his face half hidden beneath her dress, his breath hot against the fabric of her underwear. Oh, Gods,she thought, her embarrassment shifting towards anticipation. She swallowed hard and draped her gown over his face entirely, not that it was keep anyone from instantly recognizing what was going on between them.

“Off,” his muffled voice ordered, his finger hooking in the fabric of her underwear. It was awkward, shimmying them off while he attempted to keep her exactly as she was, but Elain managed it. Still nervous, she shoved them into the pocket of his pants, just in case anyone came by. They were still clothed…perhaps she’d lie and say she was injured and he was patching her up.

She gasped when she felt his fingers spread her open. Lucien hissed softly. “Pretty,” he murmured, she suspected more to himself than for her though the praise settled hot in her belly.

“What are you—”

He licked right up the center of her cunt and Elain nearly flew off his face. He brought one hand from beneath her skirt to hold her in place, dragging her even closer. Was he breathing, she wondered wildly, suddenly desperate for him to continue?

He licked a slow circle and Elain whined, grinding her hips against his face without thinking. Lucien groaned beneath her, the guttural sound spearing pleasure through her but.

“Am I frustrating you?” His muffled voice asked, his lips speaking practically into her cunt.

“Yes,” she gritted out, wishing he’d shut up.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, withdrawing his mouth completely.

Elain screamed softly, shoving him back into her wet folds. She heard him groan again and she wondered which he liked; the assertiveness or being that close to her body. He gave her what she was asking for, licking up the center of her, letting his tongue work over her clit in the same circular motion as before, faster, then slower, while she canted against him, urging him on.

Heat mingled with pleasure, building up, up, up and when she thought she might fall over the edge, Lucien’s tongue vanished from her clit and dipped into her entrance to fuck her with his mouth instead.

“Lucien please—” She begged. She was close, so mind-shatteringly close it had stolen her ability to think of anything else but his soft, wet mouth rubbing against her, the sweet friction almost unbearable in its pleasure.

He dragged his tongue back to his clit, his pace quickening as one finger slid into her body. Elain was lost to the sensation, unable to do anything but grind against him. Darkness crept into the edge her vision as the heat in her gut threatened to take her completely.

“Please, don’t stop, Lucien—” Her legs clamped around his head, his cunt pulsating on his finger as she screamed his name to the sky. Lucien rode her through it before sliding her down his chest just enough to sit up and kiss her roughly. His mouth tasted like her and she thought she ought to have found it disturbing or disgusting but she found the taste of her mingled in his mouth erotic.

“Lucien?!” A distant voice called. Feyre, she realized. Lucien groaned.

“We’ll continue this later,” he promised, quickly righting himself. She looked away from the bulge in his pants, still panting on the ground. Lucien vanished a moment later and she realized when she’d finally managed to climb back to her shaking legs that he’d taken her underwear with him.

[janetbrown711]

"Why should you get to be angry? It's my life you're messing with" Yakko?

Yakko was still angry, even though it had been over a week since Max had visited.

His siblings' hostility towards Max was really getting on his nerves. Sure, Max caught on pretty early and no one was hurt, but still. It threw everything off- though what that 'everything' was, Yakko wasn't sure.

All he knew was that there was this... pulse, or energy. Like a magnet- Yakko had wanted to touch his face. Why? Max had almost not stopped him- what did that mean?

The fluttering, the blushing, the magnetism, what did it mean???

And why was it every time Yakko felt like maybe he'd figure it out, something or someone always interrupted. Even when Max wasn't there- Yakko would just be trying to sort things out in his head or reading a book, but either his sibs, or his classes, or his parents, or something else distracted him.

That didn't stop him from trying though, as he and Max still continued to write to each other daily, already setting up for Max to visit again tomorrow. He constantly read and reread Max's letters- absorbing every word to craft a perfectly witty yet sincere response. He valued Max and his friendship, he didn't want to ruin it.

And hey, he could tell he was improving. Over the letters he managed to never bring up his grandmother even once- and most of his conversations with Max avoided her too (for the most part... he was working on that). At least he knew other topics now.

However, he was still peeved at his siblings for their attempts to ruin it. Sure Max was clever enough to catch it- but if he hadn't? What if Max had never wanted to see him again after that? What if he had gotten hurt? It was totally irresponsible. He thought Wakko and Dot were better than that.

So- yeah. He was mad, though perhaps angry was too strong. He had mostly buried his anger deep within himself when his father pulled him aside and told him not to get mad at his sibs and that they just needed time, but the anger still resided deep in his chest. Reading the letters did calm him a little though, so that was nice.

However, the day before Max was to come over again, as Yakko went to reread through the letters he found the box that he stored them in to be empty. He searched through every possible drawer and every possible location in the entire castle before admitting what his gut instinct had told him.

His letters were stolen.

And he had a theory on who the culprit could be.

.o0o.

Yakko found his younger brother in his old room, the one nearby the room once belonging to their grandmother, with the private letters all sprawled out before him as he read over them.

All attempts to keep this a civil conversation were thrown out the window in that instant.

"Wakko, what the hell are you doing with my letters?!" Yakko did at least attempt not to shout, but he caught his brother off guard, as he nearly jumped to the ceiling in surprise.

"Y-yakko- I-i thought- I'm just-" Wakko scrambled to gather his mind.

"These letters are none of your business! Why on earth do you have them?!" Yakko approached, angrily taking the letters back.

"I-i thought you read them all- I thought you didn't need them- I-i just-" Wakko fought Yakko, pulling on the letters.

"These are private letters full of private emotions, Wakko. You have no business- I haven't even read this one! What is wrong with you?!" Yakko yanked harder, causing Wakko to let go.

"I-i just- Max is just-"

"Max is just what? Being my friend? Being the first person outside of my family that's ever connected with me?! God forbid I have a life outside of you two!" The elder brother fumed.

"H-he's just trying to take you away! You can't see it because you're like- in love with him- or something!" Wakko bit back.

Yakko froze.

"What did you say..?" Yakko's eye twitched.

"Y...you're like- in love with him. He's just trying to take you away- he's just like grandma!" Wakko argued.

"Max is nothing like grandma." Yakko snapped. "Max has made me the happiest I've ever been in my entire miserable fucking life! You should know that after snooping around my private fucking letters!" Yakko shouted, his voice cracking slightly as he felt himself begin to tear up.

"I just- god-! How could you be so selfish? Why can't you just be happy for me?!" Yakko demanded to know.

Wakko opened his mouth to utter some kind of reply, when without warning, their mother burst through the door.

"What on earth is all this shouting about?" She demanded to know. Wakko attempted to blink away his tears, which unfortunately caused them to fall so instead he picked up what letters he could before storming out without another word.

"Yakko. Tell me what happened. Now." She locked eyes with Yakko, deciding it best to give the younger brother a moment to himself.

Yakko sighed, wiping his tears from his eyes as he sat on Wakko's old bed. Lena was quick to join him, slowly rubbing his back.

"He took my letters. he's been reading them- all of them." Yakko explained bitterly. Lena slowly nodded.

"I just- those are private thoughts between the two of us- it's not just my privacy, it's Max's too. I-it's like Wakko has no respect for either of u-us," Yakko hiccuped a little.

"Now Yakko, you know that isn't true. Wakko thinks the world of you," Lena reminded softly. "He's just... confused. And scared."

"Oh yeah? He can join the club then," Yakko sniffled.

"Look... I know you're going through a lot with Max right now: new emotions, new situations, and the like, but... you've been plenty selfish too, especially in neglecting your siblings, Yakko. They've tried getting your attention several times but they feel as though you won't give them the time of day," Lena held one of his hands.

"I-i haven't-..." Yakko's instinct was to protest but as he reflected upon the past few months, he recognized the truth behind her words.

"Shit..." He muttered.

"Now, I'm not going to make you cancel Max's visit for tomorrow, but do know that after he's gone I want you to spend some good quality time with your siblings, alright? I'm sure Max will understand your situation plenty," Lena said softly yet firmly.

"Y-yeah... I guess I've been pretty wrapped up, haven't I?" He chuckled weakly.

"It's alright dear, so long as you do your best to recognize the mistake and make up for it through your actions," She kissed the top of his head. Yakko sighed and leaned his head on her shoulder.

The pair stayed like this a moment, before Lena decided she had waited long enough and it was time for her to seek out Wakko. However, as she started to head through the door, Yakko stopped her.

"Mom?" He asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you-... Am I...?"

Yakko bit his lip as he tried to think of what to ask.

"How do you know if you're in love?"

Lena chuckled softly.

"Hard to say, as it truly is different for everyone... But from what I remember... it's a sense of comfort and peace; being at peace with who you are and who they are to the point where you constantly want to be with them for that peace... if that makes any sense." Lena shook her head.

"Then again, when has love ever made any sense?" She snickered.

"Uh-huh..." Yakko pondered her words.

"I'm sorry dear, I'm afraid that's something you'll have to figure out on your own," She explained. "I'm afraid I have to go to your brother now though, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah- that's... yeah," Yakko nodded and Lena headed out, leaving Yakko to sort out this new information.

.o0o.

Wakko hated shouting.

It made him feel small- like he was four all over again. God- why did he always just make things worse? He never backed down, even when he said something stupid.

He hid in one of the storage closets near the tower. It was dark and cramped, but it was where he felt he ought to be. After all, he didn't want to be seen.

He gripped the letters in his hands tighter. He didn't know why he took them that time- it was dumb. He was already caught- Yakko already knew he was a thief.

But it was to protect him against Max-

Max.

Just that name made Wakko's blood boil and angry tears increase.

He hated Max.

He hated him a lot. Yakko wouldn't see it- he was under his siren spell somehow. Wakko thought taking those letters would show him some kind of clue to unraveling it, but instead, it just showed how messed up and lost Yakko was. It hurt to read each word and Yakko's notes on the letters- the little question marks and underlines and occasional heart. Wakko hated it.

Wakko hated Max.

He hated him very, very much.

He was taking his brother away- his brother would never ignore him unless there was something very sinister forcing him too- which Max clearly was.

R...right?

Wakko continued crying.

However, after a while of crying in the dark a soft knock interrupted his tears as the door slowly opened to reveal his mother, who slowly sat on the ground outside the closet and opened her arms. Wakko hesitated a moment, before practically leaping out into her loving arms.

"There, there Wakko..." She soothed as he sobbed in her arms.

"I-i w-was just- i-i just-" he couldn't get his words out.

"I know darling, he shouldn't have shouted so much," she stroked his head.

"I-i just..." Wakko attempted to breathe enough to calm himself.

"I know... you don't trust Max yet, and it's scary seeing Yakko connect so quickly, I know," She moved him so she could see his face, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Wakko sniffled. "H-he's just trying to take him away."

"That's not true, Wakko. Max is just spending time with him- Yakko is just getting... a little caught up is all," Lena sighed.

"B-but he never ignored me like this before he met him," Wakko frowned.

"I know Wakko... he hasn't done his best with balancing everything out..." She said. "But... you haven't made it exactly easier either."

Wakko blinked at that.

"What I mean is... you haven't given Max a shot yet. You rejected him without giving him a shot to prove himself to you," Lena said.

Given him a shot..? Was she insane? She would never suggest he "give grandma a shot" so why was she suggesting to give Max a shot? Because he "seemed" friendlier and more charismatic???

"Wakko, look. Whether or not you like it, Yakko really really likes Max. The least you can do is give him a day to prove himself, alright?" Lena made him look at her.

She looked so desperate for him to believe her, it made him sad. She was clearly under Max's spell too.

It became clear to Wakko he had been underestimating Max. If he wanted him gone for good and to free his family from his influence, he was going to have to take drastic measures.

"Maybe..." he mumbled for her sake. Lena smiled softly and kissed the top of his hat.

"Yakko will really appreciate it," She said.

"Yeah, okay," Wakko looked at the ground.

Yakko will appreciate it when he's free of Max's stupid curse- all of them will be.

"I have to go back to work- will you be okay?" Lena asked. Wakko nodded. Lena slowly stood, helping Wakko up as well, before giving him another hug and a kiss on his hat.

"It's gonna be okay Wakko, just give him a chance," She said.

"Okay," he said, giving a weak smile. Lena gave a similarly weak smile back before hugging him once more and walking away.

'Give him a chance.' Oh please- Wakko would give him a chance alright.

Wakko stormed right back into that storage closet, climbed up to the tallest shelf, and pulled down the highest key, before storming right on down to the tower- quickly and furiously unlocking the massive lock just to be sure, and-

Yes, they hadn't bricked it off quite yet.

Wakko now had the perfect to keep Max far away from his family for the rest of his life.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[sobdasha]

been thinking about the really weird dynamics of the Honda family

and the ways they parallel with the Souma family.

Tohru's relationship with Grandpa Honda has always been really inscrutable to me. It seems like Kyouko liked him quite a lot, and the feeling was mutual, so their relationship ought to be close, right? But despite relying on Grandpa around the time of Katsuya's funeral, I get the impression that Kyouko and Grandpa aren't very close after that? He takes Tohru in after Kyouko's funeral, but doesn't provide a place for her to stay during the renovations, and they don't seem to keep in touch.

I figured this was for the convenience of the plot. If Tohru was close with her grandpa, then she wouldn't have no family, no one left, after her mom died. If Tohru had somewhere else to go, it wouldn't be so vital that she be allowed to keep living in the Souma house.

I've been thinking about Shiki, though, and about Akito and Shigure as parents within the Souma estate, and I'm wondering now if this wasn't actually a parallel playing out in brilliant Takaya fashion.

Starting with a recap, because a summary of info is always useful to me:

Kyouko grows up in a family that is very much about Keeping Up Appearances and Knowing Your Place. Her dad is verbally and emotionally abusive and isn't above slapping people either. Her mother isn't affectionate and doesn't protect her, probably because she's primarily concerned with protecting herself from the fallout when anything sets off her abusive husband. Kyouko has never had her emotional needs met and she's never been socialized to see others as real people with real feelings. Before even 7th grade she's become part of the gang scene in a cry for help and attention, and because these are the only people she can kind of understand. Her father has told her she's kicked out of the house at least once prior before he finally makes good on it and disinherits her at the end of 9th grade.

Katsuya and his younger sister grow up in a family that is also very much about Traditional Values and Keeping Up Appearances. Grandpa Honda is a teacher, and he puts a big emphasis on Proper Manners (and probably also other things like Good Grades, Fitting In, and Knowing Your Place). He's stern and pressures Katsuya to become a teacher as well. We don't know what Katsuya's mother was like, but I'm assuming she was also not particularly affectionate. It's only after her illness and passing, probably when Katsuya is somewhere around 20, that Grandpa Honda reevaluates his life and what's most important to him.

From a young age, Katsuya flew under the radar by heavily masking--ie, he made a cardboard cutout of what society expected him to be, so Polite, Quiet, Respectable, Studying To Become A Teacher, while underneath it all being filled with apathy, resentment, and loneliness. His moral compass is deeply skewed--see his teasing of people, his attitude of looking down on people, his bragging admittance to using his father's influence to get away with things, his creepy expressions that are identical to those of The Root Of All Evil (ie, Shigure). He has no real interpersonal relationships--family, friend, or romantic. He's a 23 year old TA who is fixated on and marries a 15 year old girl because she's the first person he ever recognized as human--he saw her in the middle of a violent meltdown and it was the first time he was ever really struck by the realization that someone else might feel the same feelings he does.

(Which, in addition to the dubious legality and widely-regarded ickiness, is just downright pathetic. I'm sorry, but it's true. Fruits Basket itself backs me up.)

The first parallel that jumps out at me is between the stories of Kyouko and Katsuya, and Ren and Akira:

Ren is an Outsider. We don't know what her family life was before joining the Souma clan, but based on everything about her I feel it's safe to assume it was also abusive. A large percentage of the Souma family is against the marriage, but Akira is adamant because Ren is the first person he's ever connected with. Similarly, the Honda family (save Grandpa) disapproves of Kyouko and she remains forever an outsider to them.

In Kyouko's case, Katsuya is able to ditch his family and start fresh with Kyouko. Ren, on the other hand, has to live within the toxic Souma family to be with Akira. Both husbands die, leaving a grieving widow and child behind. Kyouko treasures her daughter and finds a new reason to live in Tohru, away from the rest of the Honda family; Ren, already jealous of Akito for getting in the way of her relationship with her husband (and not dealing well with being pulled even further into the Souma family bullshit with all this curse stuff), and trapped within the toxic Souma family with no one on her side, chooses to perpetuate the cycle of abuse.

The thing I've been thinking about most is the parallels between Tohru and the Honda family and Shiki and the Souma family:

As I said before, Tohru's relationship with Grandpa Honda is very strange. It's not just me--Yuki and Kyou make comments to this effect also, I'm pretty sure. But I think I can finally make sense of it now, if I think of it in light of Shiki.

I think there are a couple chapters of FBA out there that I haven't read (the one with Akito, and were there other chapters beyond volume 3?), but Mutsuki implies--and I think we should take this at face value--that Akito and Shigure hope that Shiki will leave the Souma family. They are not kicking their child out. They want this as loving parents, who have done their best to raise their child in a good home in the midst of a very toxic environment. I like to think they will do a good job of explaining this to Shiki, explicitly and clearly. Akito could have walked away from the Souma family, but she chose to stay because she had a hand in perpetuating the toxicity and generational abuse in the Souma family and she is taking responsibility for trying to end the cycle. She has finally stepped up as the head of the family. She could have walked away, but she didn't.

Shiki had no hand in making the Souma family what it is. Shiki is not obligated in any way to put up with that bullshit. Shiki can and should walk away from that toxic environment, go somewhere new, and be happy. He and his parents and all his non-toxic relatives can visit and call each other and still maintain relationships, but in healthier places, as everyone learned to do at the end of Fruits Basket.

This, I believe, is what Grandpa is also doing for Tohru. He's just less explicit and messes it up at first.

I don't know exactly why we don't see more of Grandpa's relationship with Kyouko and Tohru after Katsuya's death. Is it because Tohru, as the narrator, is prioritizing Only Me And My Mom stories? Is it because Kyouko didn't want to be a burden (is that part of where Tohru absorbed it)? Is it because Kyouko couldn't maintain a good relationship with Grandpa with the Honda Family Toxicity in the background?

The Honda family toxicity shows up in full force again when Kyouko dies. Tohru is a riceball that doesn't belong in the Honda family fruits basket. No one, save Grandpa, will take her in.

And then he invites his daughter's family, which he knows is toxic and will abuse Tohru, in to live with the two of them.

I don't know who came up with the idea--if it's Grandpa, that's a bit cold, as he should be caring for Tohru. If it's his daughter ("Dad, you're getting older, you should be living with us so we can take care of you") that does make sense, both as a reasonable social expectation (which dad raised her to adhere to) and as a power move (the Outsider shouldn't be getting so cozy with dad, and dad's inheritance, without supervision). I'm leaning towards the daughter, as I don't think the family combining was intended to get Tohru to leave. I think the remodel, though, was something Grandpa Honda saw as a good opportunity to convince Tohru to leave the Hondas.

I think "I'm having the house remodeled and I'm staying with my daughter, but you weren't invited, I could pull my weight or maybe you could find your own accommodations with a friend?" was intended to give Tohru permission to not feel obligated to the Honda family. I think it was intended to let Tohru find someplace she would actually be happy, a found family living situation where she could flourish. I think Granpda sincerely thought Tohru would move in with Hanajima, instead of into a tent, and realize that she was so much happier and fulfilled there that she never came back to the toxic Honda family and had no regrets.

Grandpa's judgment was a little iffy there but he tried.

I'm realizing that, if everyone moved into Grandpa's house because it was bigger, and it's being remodeled specifically for that purpose...the fact that Tohru is sharing a room with her cousin is very significant. Grandpa was so confident, there is no place for Tohru in that house. Tohru was never supposed to come back after the remodel.

(I don't know that much about houses so it's possible that they just didn't have room; depending on whether that's the uncle or the son, you've got to have 4 or 5 separate bedrooms, which I guess could be a lot. But this is a manga, they aren't strictly constrained to realism, and Takaya makes every damn detail count.)

Tohru isn't supposed to come back after the remodel, but she does. She does, and the family is toxic to her, and Grandpa tells her more overtly that she is not obligated to live here out of familial loyalty. If there's somewhere else Tohru is happier, even if it's a really unconventional living situation, she should feel welcome to choose that instead.

Grandpa's a parallel to Akito here. He's been becoming aware, since his wife died, that his priorities were all wrong. That he raised his children wrong. That Katsuya appeared to have no real emotions and had never connected with anyone outside of Kyouko and their daughter. (Maybe he learned to make work friends?? But I doubt it.) That his daughter is judgmental and cares more about the appearance of being proper than about not being rude.

Don't think poorly of him, Grandpa says. Deep down, they're just evil people. But Grandpa recognizes that he had a hand in creating those evil people. And instead of being like Machi's mom, who goes "well maybe I fucked up" and then throws her out of the family, Grandpa takes responsibility for the family he made. He recognizes that he raised his kids in a way that caused them to be shallow and rude and to think of people as means to an end, and he also recognizes that it would be shitty to reject his kids for turning out exactly as he raised them. He has to live with them (and his choices), he says, but Tohru doesn't.

Looking at it like that, I respect Grandpa Honda more. He seemed a bit wishy-washy before--useful for some plot and character development points, but wishy-washy all the same. But it's a tough decision, and having to prioritize people is always shitty. Grandpa not rejecting his daughter means sacrificing a stable home for Tohru. Akito staying as the head of the Souma family so she can ensure the freedom of the former Zodiac means that her child will be subjected to the same generational abuse, no matter how loving and supportive of a home life she and Shigure provide.

But they're both trying to do a right thing in a crappy situation.

And Tohru, like so many of the former Zodiac, does find happiness and fulfillment in the new family she's able to make for herself. She learns to make her world bigger, and she learns that leaving doesn't have to be the same as cutting ties. And so I'm very optimistic that Shiki will find the same.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Just a Thought Away | Owen Patrick Joyner

Request:  Could you do a soulmate au with Charlie or Owen, whichever you're more comfortable with, where they can hear each other's thoughts or the music they listen to?

A/N: Made it an Owen one shot since I don’t have many requests for Owen! Hope this is what you expected and you like it! :) 

Pairing: Owen Joyner x Fem!reader

Warnings: Very minor swearing 

Words: 4,175

Another note: Anything in bold and italics is a thought! 

Songs used: Pump It - Black Eyed Peas

Growing up, Y/N’s mother told her these stories about soulmates and how every person on this earth would be assigned a soulmate by their guardian angel at 16. People would be able to hear their thoughts and the songs they were listening to or singing would be playing in their head as though it was just stuck in their head.  Of course, as a child, Y/N used to believe her every word and would be clinging to those words. She’d fantasize about her soulmate and where she’d meet them or what music they’d be into. She’d keep her eyes on every person in Middle School and even High School, trying to see if she could just find them. Not like there would be any physical notabilities, but she liked fantasizing about it.  By the time Y/N turned 16, she had almost forgotten about the whole soulmate thing. Her birthday was months ago and nothing ever happened. She never heard a song play in her head she didn’t know or hadn’t had any thoughts that didn’t belong to her. She was pretty certain all of those soulmate stories her mother told her were fake.  Until July 19th 2016. That’s when she first starts noticing some things. To start off the day, the song ‘Happy Birthday’ is stuck in her mind and it’s not even her birthday or anyone else’s in the family or friend group that could’ve provided that song in her head.  During the afternoon of that day, Y/N suddenly hears a humming in her mind that quickly changes into a full-on made-up song that no one close to her would ever sing.  “Mmh, Cake, cake, I like cake Cake, cake, I like cake.” She can’t help but laugh, though. She’d been studying for many hours without taking a break, it’s starting to mess with her brain a little. Y/N’s teachers have been giving so much work lately, she’s nearly drowning in it and it’s far from done. Sophomore year is possibly one of the hardest, in her opinion, and having the need to maintain a social life really doesn’t help with that. She hasn’t been to a party for weeks. She’s starting to crave human contact and dancing and having fun with friends and not sleeping until the sun rises.  Though that last part sounds very appealing when you’re at a party, it doesn’t when you’re in bed and trying to sleep. She’s woken up by loud music thumping in her ears. It sounds almost as though the neighbors are having a party next door, but when she gets up and walks outside the house, she realizes the house next door is completely dark. There’s no movement whatsoever. She must’ve hallucinated, but then why is she still hearing this loud music?  That’s when it dawned on her that the soulmate stories her mother used to tell are real. As a matter of fact, the songs she’d been hearing all day long were the songs her soulmate was listening to or singing. It must’ve been their 16th birthday, which they are now celebrating at a party. She always thought it’d be more fun and romantic to have a soulmate and hear them sing and think, but it’s actually pretty annoying. And it’s only the first day. This is going to be fun. 

“Morning, sweetie,” Y/N’s mother greets when she stumbles into the kitchen the next morning. She hasn’t slept one bit. Her soulmate has been partying all night and only got home by 6am, which was two hours ago. “Oh, you look rough! Are you feeling okay?” “I haven’t slept all night because my stupid soulmate was out partying all night.” Her eyes widen at this, as does her smile. “They turned 16 yesterday, so I guess that’s why I never heard anything yet on my birthday.” “Oh, yeah! You both need to be 16 before the whole soulmate-thing starts to work,” she informs her daughter and hands a cup of fresh, steaming-hot coffee. “Do you know anything about them yet?” She shakes her head before taking a careful sip from the goddess liquid --as she and her siblings call it. “No, I kinda thought it was my brain hallucinating from studying so much, so I couldn’t really think of a way to converse with them.” Her head snaps up as an idea crosses her mind. “How do you converse with your soulmate, mom?” She shoots her a tender, relieved smile, happy she can finally properly inform Y/N about it instead of those folklore stories. “You just think what you wanna ask them and they hear it,” she replies. “So, if I let my inside voice just yell ‘shut up!’, they’ll hear too?” Her mother chuckles, nodding her head in response. “Good! I ought to try that whenever they’re singing about their cake again.” Her mother laughs at that before leaving her in the kitchen, so she can get ready for work. Her soulmate is seemingly still asleep, which she would’ve been too if it wasn’t for work. Y/N works at a coffee shop on the weekends, just to get some experience and earn a little bit of money for her shopping addiction. Maybe right now would be a perfect moment to avenge her soulmate for keeping her up all night last night. So, while getting ready, she puts on some music on her laptop. With the volume on maximum, she starts belting the One Direction song along at the top of her lungs. “You and me got a whole lotta history!” It takes a while before a loud ‘SHUT UP!’ echoes through her mind. A teasing smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she stops singing. “That’s what you get for keeping me up all night, sweetie” she thinks, hoping it’ll come through. For a moment, she thinks it might not work like that until a boy’s voice floats through her brain. “Who’s this?” She chuckles, pausing the music and taking a seat at her desk. “Y/N Y/L/N. Ever heard of those soulmate folklore stories?” She starts doing her make-up whilst waiting for his response. “Yea, my father used to tell me those. I thought they were fairy tales?” “So did I. Turns out they’re real!” This feels so weird. “You just turned 16, right?” “Yeah, yesterday! How’d you know?!” he asks, and it makes her realize he might not be the brightest tool in the shed. “Because I turned 16 in January and I didn’t hear anything until yesterday…” A silence falls over the conversation. Either it’s not working anymore or he’s digesting all this information. “You heard me singing to my cake, didn’t you?” he finally asks instead, and Y/N can even hear him chuckle. “Yep! I thought I was hallucinating because I was studying so hard,” she lets out a chuckle too. “Happy belated birthday, by the way.” “Oh, thanks! I’m Owen, by the way. Owen Joyner.” She has heard that name before, but she’s got no clue where, though. Making a mental note to Google it later, she grabs the mascara and adds the finishing touches to her makeup. “Nice to meet you, Owen. I gotta get going though. Have to be at work in about…” She glances at the clock on her wall, her eyes widening when she sees the time. “Five minutes. See ya! Or… Hear ya?!” She hears Owen chuckle in her mind. “Yeah, I’ll hear ya,” he says, then a yawn-like sound buzzes through her, giving her the urge to yawn too. “Sorry for waking you up,” she quickly adds before running out of the house. Her mind’s going over a million excuses as to why she would be late to work, but none of them sound quite plausible. Especially not the truth. “Go with ‘the neighbors had a party last night and I overslept’-excuse, Y/N,” she hears Owen’s voice again, “Now stop thinking, I wanna sleep!” She chuckles, shaking her head. “Thanks, Owen. And I wanna sleep too, but I can’t, now can I? Me awake means you awake. Deal with it.” She can even hear a disgruntled groan, meaning he’s probably getting up because her thoughts won’t stop running through his mind. That night, she figures out he's the Owen Joyner, aka Crispo Powers from “100 things to do before High School”, a TV-show she’d watched almost daily in the last two years. She asks him about that too, and he explains the whole auditioning and filming process and how much fun it was for a first acting gig. He asks about her life too, and the two of them bond over thoughts. This whole soulmate-thing is still very whack. But, to be completely honest, she kind of loves it. It’s like having an angel on your shoulder, telling you what the best option for your dilemma is. Though, most times, Owen is more likely the devil. Which is what Y/N needs most times. The most fun thing about this whole Soulmate-connection thing, have to be the dance parties the two of them hold at night, unless she has to get to work the following day and Owen won’t stop singing at the top of his lungs. One night, he was singing Pump It by the Black Eyed Piece at 3am. She’d groaned at first, hoping that’ll subtly tell him to shut up, but it didn’t work at all. He just kept rapping the verses, keeping Y/N awake and annoyed. “Come on, baby, do it” She decides to finally give in, knowing he’s not going to stop until she starts singing along. So, she sits up straight in her bed, and belts the lyrics at the very top of her lungs, not even caring about anyone in the house hearing. “La-da-di-dup-dup die dy On the stereo Let those speakers blow your mind” “Blow my mind, baby” She chuckles at his interruption. “To let it go, let it go Here we go La-da-di-dup-dup die dy” “C'mon, we're there” “On the radio The system is gonna feel so fine” He stops singing then and a silence falls over the both of them. Y/N can’t lie, in the past couple of years as she’d grown closer to him, spending every waking -- and sleeping -- moment together, she’d started developing some feelings for Owen Patrick Joyner too. It’s ridiculous because she’d never seen him in real life. She knows everything about him and she knows what he looks like, but she doesn’t know what his hugs feel like, or what his cologne smells like. “You’re a great singer, Y/N,” he finally breaks the silence, “I’m gonna let you sleep now, kay? Good night, baby girl.” Of all the pet names he’d given her so far, Baby Girl, Princess and Gorgeous were her favorites. All of them with a platonic tendency, though, much to her dismay. “Good night, O-bear,” she whispers back before tucking herself into bed again. Then finally, in 2019, Owen and a couple of people from the cast and crew of Julie and The Phantoms, his latest project Y/N was most excited about, decided to make a trip to New York City, her hometown. To say she’s excited would be the understatement of the year. She’d finally be able to hug him and talk to him properly and show him around her hometown and get to know the rest of the cast she’d heard so much about. But among the excitement also hides a little bit of nerves. After years of talking to him by just thinking, she’d finally see him in real life. What if things get awkward? What if it’s not what she expects? What if he’s only so beautiful in her mind? Y/N is walking around the coffee shop, wiping down tables and jumping up every time a new customer enters, thinking it’s Owen. He knows where she works on the weekends, and promised to find her there the minute he’d gotten settled in his hotelroom. “Ooh, pretty girl over there.” Her stomach churns as she hears his thoughts. He forgets about the whole soulmate-connection thing sometimes and just lets it out unfiltered. She knows he doesn’t like her the same way she likes him, and he’s allowed to look at other girls and think they’re pretty, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. “All around the world pretty girls,” he sings the famous Britney Song. “Mostly at coffee shops, yeah I’m talking about  you, pretty girl.”  A soft rap on the window next to Y/N makes her snap out of her focus on Owen’s voice. When she looks up, there’s a tall, blonde man waving at her through the glass with the biggest smile on his face. A flutter erupts in her stomach whilst her mouth involuntarily curls up into the widest smile she’d ever managed. She gestures at him to come in and hastily makes her way to the door herself. The second he walks inside, she launches herself into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, she holds him tight and inhales the smell of his cologne. He smells of the most divine combination of spearmint and musk. Just as she’d imagined him smelling like. “I can’t believe this,” she hears him think, which makes her chuckle. “You know you can actually talk to me right now, right?” she tells him, pulling away slightly so she can look at his face. There’s a slight stubble growing on his cheeks and chin, and his eyes look even prettier in real life than on a phone screen. “Right, yeah,” he chuckles, Y/N’s new favorite sound in the world. “Old habits die hard.” She smiles down at him whilst the two of them just stare at each other, basking in the fact they’re finally meeting. “She’s even prettier up close.” YN/ blushes at the compliment, and combes her fingers through his hair. “Oh, fuck, you heard that. Sorry!” “It’s cool. You’re pretty up close too.” This makes him chuckle. The whole thing is still bat-shit crazy. Both of them have gotten weird commentary whenever they told friends and family how they communicate with their soulmate. Most people just start texting and calling when they find their soulmate, but they didn’t. This whole new way of conversing was way too much fun, though a little annoying at times. And especially now that they’re in the same place together, it’s even more fun because no one else knows they’re talking to each other. A soft cough behind Owen causes Y/N to snap back into reality. Peeking behind the boy’s head, there are three other guys, staring at the scene with wide smiles playing at their lips. Two of them are about the same age as them, but the other one is older. Older but very, very famous. Y/N herself is a big fan of his work. The legend, Kenny Ortega himself. “You might wanna introduce me to your friends over there,” she tells her best friend. Owen takes a quick peek behind him, realizing he’d forgotten about his friends that had come along with him to meet the infamous Y/N. He puts the girl down on her feet again before turning to the three men. “Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Gorgeous, these are Jeremy, Charlie, and Kenny.” He points to each of them when their respective names are called. Y/N offers them a wave and smile, not sure if she should go straight in for the hug like she’d done with Owen. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N,” says Kenny as he opens his arms and embraces the girl. Said girl is now completely starstruck in a way she’d never been before, and she’d met a few of her favorite actors or artists. None of them made her feel this way. “You too, Kenny,” she manages to bring out when they pull apart, “Big fan of your work!” All she’s hoping right now is that she doesn’t sound too creepy. “You’re all good, Princess. Breathe.” Owen’s voice calms her down just in time for Charlie to engulf her into a hug too, and then Jeremy does the same. “Why don’t you guys take a seat, and I’ll make you some coffee before I’m off for today?” she suggests, and after hums of assent, the girl takes their orders and gets back to work. “There you go,” she mumbles as she places the coffees on the table and then distributes them correctly before sliding into the booth next to Owen. “So, what are your plans for today?” she asks. “Just some touristy bits,” Charlie replies with a shrug, “Any recommendations for us?” Y/N thinks about it for a while, knowing Owen can hear her thoughts. “Why don’t you come along?” Owen’s voice echoes through your brain. “Why don’t I take you guys around to the best spots no tourist will ever find?” she suggests, earning a thankful smile from Owen. “I think I knew a few places I could take you to?” All three other men agree to your suggestion. So, after you all finish your coffees and you’ve given them your employer’s discount, the five of you leave the coffee shop and hit the streets of New York City. “This is where I proposed to Care!” Jeremy exclaims excitedly as you’re sharing a couple stories from your childhood in Central Park. The guys have told a little more about their own lives, too, so Y/N felt comfortable enough to talk so freely and unfiltered about her own childhood, not noticing the way Owen melts at how adorable she looks being so excited about her childhood memories. “Re-enact it, Jer!” Owen exclaims excitedly as he scurries away from Y/N’s side and jumps down the small flight of stairs in one swift hop. Jeremy follows his best buddy and kneels down in front of him as if really proposing. Y/N takes her phone out of her back pocket and snaps a picture of the beautiful scene, giggling as she does, along with Kenny and Charlie. “The cutest couple!” the girl compliments, jamming her phone back into her pocket. “When’s the wedding?” Kenny adds, his laugh thundering. Owen lets out an airy laugh while Jeremy gets up again, the two of them rejoining the rest of the group. Y/N just knows this day will forever be the best day of her life. She just knows it’s going to be her favorite day ever for so many reasons; the laughs, the jokes, the friendship that’s building between all five of you, but mostly Owen. That night, Y/N goes back to the hotel with them too as Owen had asked her to hang out a little while longer and watch some movies with him. He’d asked the others too, but they were ‘too tired’. That’s an excuse Y/N could see from a mile away. They just wanted to give the two of them some quality time, which she appreciated very much. “I had the best day,Bubba,” she mumbles as she snuggles closer to him. She has her head on his chest whilst his arm is draped around her shoulders. It almost feels as though they’ve been doing this for years. “Me too, Baby Girl. Thanks for showing us around.” He presses a kiss to her hair, inhaling the luscious scent of peach, and deciding that’s his new favorite scent from now on. “Sucks we’re leaving tomorrow night,” he mumbles sadly. “Yeah… I know…” The words come out of her mouth in a whisper. “Wonder when we’ll see each other again.” She’d forgotten for a split second about him being able to hear her thoughts until he answers the half-statement with another question. “Will you come visit Norman Oklahoma soon?” She looks up at him, her nose grazing his stubbled chin, causing him to look down. “I really don’t wanna go another three years without seeing you, Gorgeous. I don’t think I can handle that, especially now that I’ve learned you’re a great cuddler.” Y/N chuckles at that before resettling on his chest properly. “I think I can make something work next month?” She starts tracing the patterns of his shirt, sending shivers down Owen’s spine at the sheer touch of her delicate fingers. “I think I can miss a few classes.” The chuckle that escapes past his lips, makes his chest vibrate and zooms into her ears, making her mouth curl up. This is the best feeling in the world; cuddling up with Owen and hearing him laugh. It’s a feeling Y/N wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. She wishes she could just stay like this forever. Or at least until the next day. Y/N has classes to get to, but promises Owen to come and say goodbye to him and the others at JFK airport around 8pm that night. And she does, though dreading it entirely. “You made it,” Owen whispers when he sees her walk up to the group. “Of course, I couldn’t just let you go back to Van City without saying goodbye, could I?” A tender smile plays at his lips as he takes her into a tight hug. “Have a safe flight, yeah? And talk to me on the plane if you’re bored.” She tells him and then turns to the three other men she’d just met yesterday. “Take good care of him and each other,” she tells them before taking each into a hug. Owen then offers her a nervous smile when she makes it back to his side. “Hey, you okay?” she asks, grabbing his hand in hers. “No,” her eyebrows furrow at his unspoken confession. “Yes, I mean yes. I’m fine. I’m okay… I just--” he cuts himself off, not knowing what to tell the girl now. “I’m just gonna miss you, is all.” “Oh…” is all she brings out, wanting something else to come out of his mouth. “I’m gonna miss you too, Big O.” She playfully punches his shoulder, smiling up at him with that smile that’s only ever reserved for Owen. It’s a tender one where her eyes sparkle as much as her smile. Owen then grabs her other hand too, pulling her a little closer as though he wants to say something serious. Y/N isn’t used to a serious Owen. He’d always be the one to pull pranks or make stupid jokes that’d make her laugh until her belly ached. He stutters and stumbles over a couple of words, then sighs frustratedly as he can’t seem to find the right words to tell her what he’s feeling. He can’t even find the right words to think. “Just kiss her, you dork!” Charlie shouts from the sidelines. Y/N turns her head to look at the boy confusedly, but Owen’s hands quickly cup her face and brings her up to press his lips on hers. She’s a little startled at first, unsure about what’s happening. But then she melts into his lips and into him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long!” his thought comes through in her mind, making her smile against his lips.   “Shut up, I’m kissing you.” He chuckles at her words, and pulls away but keeps his forehead pressed to hers. “I’ll see you in a month, Bubba,” Y/N whispers and pecks his lips once more. Though she hates to see him go, she has to let him leave. She has to let him get back to Vancouver and Oklahoma, and then she can see him again in about a month. It’s just how this must go. For now. “I’d rather stay, actually,” he tells her as he pulls away slowly. “Owen…” Y/N whispers, shaking her head, “Don’t make this harder than it already is. They need you in Vancouver…” she nods at Kenny and the guys. “I want you to stay, I do. But they need you.” A single tear rolls down her cheek. Owen reaches up and wipes it away as quickly as it came whilst shaking his head. “I’m gonna stay, Y/N. Just two more days.” He sounds too determined for her to convince him to go. “We don’t actually need him for two more days anyway, so he’s free to stay if he wants to,” Kenny chimes in. Y/N looks at the man talking, a surprised look on her face. The legend himself shoots her a smile. “Stay, Owen. Spend some more time together. You both need it.” “Thanks, Kenny,” Owen takes the guy in for a quick hug, and then turns to his buddies to give each of them one too. “I’ll see you in two days, then.” The couple watches as the three men walk away, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. “You really had to be dramatic, did you?” Y/N jokes once they’re out of earshot, which earns her an eye roll from Owen, though he can’t hide a smile either. “You know me, Baby Girl,” he winks before grabbing his bag. “Yes, I do,” she says, “And I’m glad I do.” “Me too, Gorgeous, me too.”

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @angryknightstatesmantrash​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @rudysbay​ @thedarkqueenofavalon​​ @caitsymichelle13​​ @calamitykaty​ @wiselight​

[xmint-conditionx]

《the emperor’s dagger》 ch4 | myg

❦ pairing: emperor!yoongi x concubine!reader ❦ w/c: 3.1k ❦ summary: you realize that your love cannot last beyond the secret meetings, but that doesn't make his pull to you any less powerful. he wants to give you everything in his power that he can, but the one thing he can't give you is the thing you want most. but that doesn't stop him from showing you how badly he wants to spoil you... ❦ tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, balcony sex, penetrative sex, one single instance of "daddy", light thigh smacking, gagging (on dick and being gagged), multiple orgasms, oral (f+m recieving), being tied to the bed, they both pretend like there isn't a problem so i guess it's not really that healthy ❦ a/n: please enjoy this unedited mess. school is kicking my butt right now but i figured i would get this out to you now and perfect it later lmao.

<3 minty.

taglist: @jiminisnotavirgin @aretha170 @btstrash2013 @bbykoos @aquaalanah

You’ve both learned to be more careful. Both with your time, and your feelings. The relationship feels more professional than it did in the recent past, but along with the sting comes the assurance that it’s the right thing to do. It’s the safe thing to do.

Your nightly sword fights have continued without a hitch, although you’ve yet to use a real blade again, since that night a month ago.

He’s made a deliberate effort to formally request you less, and for you, that has likely been the most painful thing. He’s called on other concubines, and the only time the two of you are intimate is when it’s “off the books'' so to speak. The two concubines you’ve grown closest to over your time here, Euriyan and Wysteria, take notice of your pallid demeanor.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Euriyan asks between bites of their lunch.

“Talk about what?”

They both give you the look.

“Nothing’s wrong, seriously,” you say, taking another bite. Wysteria rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to… but I want you to know that I know,” Euriyan says, in an almost threatening manner.

“Wait, what? What do you know?” you ask in a panicked hush. How could they possibly know about your romantic affair with the king?

“I know something is bothering you. You can’t think I don’t know my best friend,” Euriyan says nonchalantly, swallowing their bite before realizing what you thought they meant. Their eyes fly wide open.

“Wait, you have a secret!” they say a little too loudly, so you gently shush them. Shit.

“Okay, yes,” you admit, “I have a secret, and it’s bothering me a little. That’s it.”

“Well, if I can’t know, it must be important,” Wysteria says, mid chew, “Is it your family? Is your mom okay?” she asks, eyebrows scrunching in worry.

“Mom’s fine. She’s actually doing much better. She went with Uncle Benji to the market the other day.”

“Just know you can tell me if you need to, okay?” Wysteria says and Euriyan nods.

“I know,” you say, “I just can’t.”

“It can’t be worse than me sleeping with the head guard,” Euriyan says nonchalantly.

You and Wysteria both stop chewing.

“You can’t be serious!” you exclaim, “how in the world can you manage that?!”

“Well, he does know all of the imperfections in the patrols…” they say. Of course, it’s the same way that you and the King are able to sneak off.

“How long has this been going on?!” Wysteria asks.

“Probably about a month and a half,” they say, continuing to chew, “He’s always been very professional, but something came over me at the moon festival last month.”

“You mean you approached him?!” you ask.

“Yeah,” they say, “he was looking up at the sky and I asked if he liked to look at the stars… then I asked if he wanted to look at them with me… and then he did… then I fell… on his dick… So it can’t be worse than that.”

You stay silent, moving around the bits of your lunch left on the plate.

“It’s not worse than that... right?” they ask.

“Everything is going to be okay,” is all you can say, before picking up your plate and walking back inside.

That night, your king requests you to his chambers instead of the meadow, which is a welcome surprise. Sneaking into the room, you gently close the large and ornate doors behind you before turning toward where your king sits waiting for you.

“Come, sit,” he says, smiling at you as he pats the space on his bed next to him.

You sit on his sheets comfortably, making yourself at home in his presence. No matter how much you tell yourself not to get carried away, you can’t help but melt.

“It’s your birthday next week,” is all he says.

“Um… yes…” you reply, unsure of where this is going.

“So, tell me what you want,” he commands.

“I don’t want anything, Your Majesty,” you say.

“Of course you do!” he says, “Ask me for anything in the world, and it’s yours.”

At that last statement, you can’t help but to wince a little. There are some things even a king cannot get for you. The thing you want most is the one thing he cannot give you.

“My parents could use another fishing boat,” you say, lighting up.

“The gift is meant for you, dove,” he says, but your pleading expression is unwavering. He sighs.

“If it would truly make you happy, then a new fishing boat for your parents would be my pleasure. But that will not stop me from getting you a gift as well…”

“It had better!” you tease, “I said I don’t want anything.”

“Nothing?” he asks, leaning in so that you can feel his breath on your skin, “Nothing at all?”

“Well, there is one thing,” you tease, “but I think you would have no problem giving it to me now…”

You allow your hand to wander up his thigh, and you hear a sharp intake of breath when you give it a small squeeze.

“I ought to make you wait until your birthday…” he says.

“You wouldn’t…”

“I wouldn’t?” he asks playfully, “you sure about that, little dove?”

He runs his fingertips over your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Every time he touches you, it feels as fresh and exciting as the first time you snuck into his chamber all those months ago. You get lost in him every time.

“Are you going to answer me?” he asks, tone more stern. You meet his gaze as he picks up your hand.

“No, I don’t think you would.”

“You do seem to be my weak spot…” he says onto the soft skin of the top of your hand, “but I’m sure you know that.”

He kisses each of your fingertips, one by one.

“How does it feel to have power over the most powerful person in the kingdom, little dove?” he asks.

“I’m sure that’s not true, Highness,” you say, taking your thumb and running it over his bottom lip, “you are one of the strongest men I know. And you are easily the most stubborn.”

“But you cannot deny that I would do anything in my power for you,” he says.

“That may be true,” you concede, “but I would never ask.”

He stands up from the bed and walks over to the window overlooking the balcony.

“Yes, that’s the infuriating part,” he says with a chuckle before turning around. The moonlight shines behind him and illuminates his blonde hair like a halo. “Why won’t you let me spoil you?”

“I don’t need to be spoiled, Your Majesty.”

“Nobody needs to be spoiled,” he says, “but I can’t stop thinking about how incredible you would look covered in my jewels.”

“Is that right?” you ask incredulously.

Without missing a beat, he walks over to a tall wardrobe against the wall, opens it, and begins sifting through a drawer. You can’t quite see what he’s looking for from your position on the bed, but you can tell by his gentle touch that it must be precious.

When he turns back around, he’s holding a large and heavy-looking necklace that shines a deep green in the dim candlelight. He makes his way back to you and kneels down at the bedside. He reaches up and around your neck to place the jewels, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he tries to fasten it. He leans in further to get a better view of the clasp, and his warm breath ghosts against your neck. The cold hard metal of the necklace is a shocking sensation after his soft and warm breath. Once secured into place, he pulls back and can’t hide his smile.

“I told you that you’d look incredible,” he says, as he runs his fingers over the jewels and down your cleavage, “I wonder…”

He looks up at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, as if he’s asking a question. You’re not sure what exactly he’s up to, but you want to find out. You smile back as your answer, and he begins to dip his fingers beneath the edge of the fabric by your breasts.

You shift to allow him to pull the fabric down, and the cool air is shocking against your now exposed breasts. You think that he’s going to spend more attention there, but he just continues to slowly pull the fabric down. Once he gets to your hips, you raise yourself up and help him by shimmying out of the rest of the fabric.

Once your body is fully exposed, he tosses your white dress to the bottom side of his large bed, and turns back around. He goes back to the wardrobe and pulls the whole drawer out before returning back to you. He kneels in front of you again and sets the drawer beside his legs on the wooden floor. As he lowers it, you look inside to see a drawer filled with shining jewelry. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, delicate crowns, all glistening and all too nice to be worn by you.

“Let’s see how much we can fit on you…” he says, grabbing a diamond bracelet and draping it over your wrist. One by one, he adorns you with items from the drawer. Your fingers are covered in rings, jewels drape off of your wrists and ankles, your neck is heavy with the weight of the many necklaces, and a single ornate circlet decorates your forehead.

“In front of me is every last piece of royal jewelry that exists outside of the vault, and you are still the most beautiful thing I see.”

He leans forward and presses a wet kiss on your stomach before kissing his way back up your body, underneath your breasts, lips grazing against your pert nippples before he’s nibbling at your neck.

You begin to work at one of the necklaces to unfasten it from your neck, but he reaches for your wrist before you can.

“No, keep them on,” he says against your skin, “luxury looks good on you.”

He kisses you hard, not wasting any time before opening his mouth and biting your bottom lip. You groan as his hands grab your hips and thumb presses into you. The aching between your legs begins to spill out; you can feel your wetness beginning to pool. He breaks the kiss and tosses you over to the top of the bed, where you bounce gingerly on the pillows that lay there.

He strides quickly back over to the wardrobe and grabs something colorful.

Before you can register what he’s holding, he’s back on top of you; his weight presses you into the bed, and you can feel his cock twitch as he leans his body down over you. As he nibbles along your ear, he takes one of your wrists and hoists it up, and then you feel something cool and soft being secured around it.

When he releases, he quickly moves over to the other hand, leaving you the opportunity to look at his handiwork. Your wrist is secured to the post of his bed with a tight knot in the most beautiful silk you’ve ever seen.

He finishes the other side, and kisses his way up the length of your arm before settling back onto your lips.

“I’m not waiting for you to test my patience tonight, brat,” he says between kisses as he trails back down your body. He plants a sloppy kiss on your aching cunt, and looks back up at you through his lashes from where he is. “I want you to come on my mouth, slut. Do you think you can do that for me?”

“That kind of depends on you, don’t you think?”

He responds with a sharp smack against your thigh, causing you to yelp slightly. He narrows his eyes at you.

“You know better. Keep that pretty little mouth shut, too,” he says before plunging his tongue into your slit. The contact makes your fists clench until your knuckles turn white, and you really, genuinely try to keep it down.

He rolls your clit with his tongue and then closes his lips around it to add suction, and you suck in a sudden breath. Your body tenses up in an attempt to stifle your own moans, but despite your best efforts, a whimper escapes. He stops and looks up at you”

“One more chance, dove,” he says against your heat, “before I have to intervene.”

He continues his unrelenting pace on your clit, and as you begin to climb the mountain, he inserts two fingers into your slit, and you grit your teeth at the small stretch. He curls his fingers upward, hitting your spot, and you teeter on the edge of orgasm. Your thighs tense and tighten around his head, signaling to him that you’re closing in. The king looks up at you once more, and the hunger in his onyx eyes alone pushes you the rest of the way.

You come hard on his lips, unable to stop the small moan that escapes your lips. As you ride out your high, you’re bucking your hips against his mouth before he can wrap his hands around your thighs and hold you still. When you’ve finished coming down, you lay there panting as you hear and feel him readjusting himself. You close your eyes and hear the rustling of fabric before you feel his weight climbing towards you.

You open your eyes to find him walking toward you on the bed, his hard cock at eye level. You put on your best doe eyes and wonder what’s going to happen next.

He stands over your sitting body, cock inches from your mouth.

“Looks like we’re going to have to give that mouth something other than moaning to do, aren’t we, dove?”

You gladly take his length into your mouth in one go. It’s been a little while since you’ve gotten to give him head, and honestly, you miss it. Even without your hands, you’re confident in how weak you can get him.

You flirt with deepthroating as you take him all the way in, but as soon as it seems like you might, you back off and let him back out. He seems to be growing impatient, but you know it takes more than a little bit of teasing for your king to lose control.

You let him slip all the way out, and lean forward to that his shaft is resting on your lips. You move your head forward, licking the bottom as you find one of his balls. You look up and meet his gaze before sucking it into your mouth and rolling it over your tongue. It pops as you release it, and he grunts so quietly you could have missed it.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been able to suck you,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes as his tip rests on your lips, “I think I forgot how…” He grabs onto your hair and speaks in a low voice.

“Then practice.”

You take him back into your mouth, this time opening your throat and sucking him all the way in. You hold him back there as long as you can, before tears begin prickling in the corners of your eyes. When you’re desperate for air, you release him and gasp. The tears fall out of your eyes and down your cheeks. You look up at him and watch as his chest rises and falls.

“Am I doing it right, daddy?”

He answers by pulling your head back onto him, so that you’re taking him in once again. He tightens his grip on your hair and begins to fuck your face, something that you’ve been waiting for. You know it won’t be long until he’s spilling inside of you. You hollow out your cheeks and look up, and as soon as he meets your gaze, he pulls out.

As you’re catching your breath, he quickly unties your hands and practically drags you off of the bed and onto the outdoor balcony. The balcony overlooks the back wall of the palace, and beyond that is stretching forest. He bends you over so that you’re supporting yourself with the balcony railing, and he takes one of those silk ties and gags you with it, securing it behind your head.

He pushes you forward with his body and pulls your hair so that you’re standing upright, neck extended back. His hand glides across your neck as his dick presses against your opening.

He doesn’t tighten his grip on your neck, but he eases himself into your dripping entrance. You moan at the slight ache of his length stretching you out, and then the sound is cut off as he tightens his hand.

“You have been spoiled, don’t you realize? In the clearing, you can be as loud as you want. But you’ve forgotten how to behave, haven’t you?”

You can hear the wet sounds of your cunt as he thrusts into you, setting an unrelenting pace. Before long, you find yourself nearing climax again, and you tighten around him. His hips sputter as he begins to reach his own climax, so you reach your hands back behind your head and tangle them in his hair. As soon as you give it a sharp tug, you hear him groan as he spills inside of you, and your second orgasm of the night begins immediately after.

After you both have cleaned up, you lay stretched out on his large bed as he’s putting the jewels away.

“You seem to be in good spirits lately,” you say, “any good news?”

He places a ring in its proper place in the drawer, and considers for a moment.

“Yes, there is good news, but you may tell no one.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. You have my word.” He sighs.

“I am making efforts toward a peace treaty with the neighboring kingdom. A century of war could be drawing to a close, my dove.”

“And your generals are pleased with this?” you ask. He sighs again, deeper this time.

“The generals do not know.” You allow him to continue.

“I am engaging in secret correspondence with the neighboring king,” he says, turning towards you, “If all goes well, this treaty will be done with only the two of us. We are both tired of fighting, it seems.”

“So, you think this will go well, then?” you ask, and see a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Our lives will depend on it, dove.”

[toastedside]

For Better and For Worse

Batmom!Reader x Batfamily

Warning: angst, fluff in the end

Note: The last chapter for the miniseries! It was fun writing this, and I know it's been too long since I actually posted the first chapter. But it was fun. Enjoy!

Masterlist, Previous Chapter

Batman landed on his foot silently. His eyes scanned through the warehouse, before him was a gigantic machine with empty compartment that would fit one person. He quickly typed on the small computer on his wrist, sighing silently to himself as he waited for his scanning result to come.

“Batman,” come Superman’s voice through the comm. “Are you in?”

“I’m in,” Batman confirmed. “There’s a machine inside. It looks like somebody deactivated it before we come. I’m trying to transfer their data into my computer to get some information.”

“So Red Robin and Superboy were right,” Superman said again. There was a slight quiet sound of the wind behind him. Batman assumed he was flying as he answered through the comm. “The warehouse is empty as well. I think they had abandoned it.”

“We can’t be really sure about that,” Batman’s let out a huff as his computer displayed the transfer data has been finished. “I’m going to decipher some codes. Keep an eye on possible threat.”

Batman grunted softly as he squatted down to take a better look of the main controller device. It looked unassuming and tame while it was deactivated, but one better look alone could tell him that it would be deadly. He typed an override code on the main controller, his lips pressed firmly together as the machine slowly coming back to life.

From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of movement that he had known too well. “I already told you to let the League take care of this.”

“Yeah, but it was me and Conner who found it,” Red Robin came into the light. He quickly approached the main controller and eyed it silently. “I have just successfully deciphered few codes that might help. If there’s anyone that could help, it would be me.”

Batman stared at him for a few moments. He weighed his options before let out a tired sigh. Figured there’s no way Red Robin would back out now. “Only to decipher the code. After that you leave the rest to the League.”

Red Robin nodded before he dove in right away into his work. Batman lingered for a few moments to watch, but as the machine starting to wake up more and more from its slumber, he left Red Robin with the controller device as he investigated. He studied the empty compartment silently, taking notes in how the machine was built.

“B, what did you type to activate the machine?” Red Robin called. There’s a slight confusion in his voice that robbed Batman’s attention.

“The code that have been transferred to my computer.”

“That’s not possible,” Red Robin whispered. Now he sounded so alarmingly surprised. “It’s different from what I decipher earlier. B, I think– I think there’s an error in this.”

Batman was about to open his mouth when the machine whirling dangerously. Red Robin quickly tried to type in an override code, but the more he tried, the more the machine whirling dangerously and begun to rattle. He lifted his eyes briefly and saw Batman tried to tame the machine, his shoulder pressed against the empty compartment as he grunted loudly. Suddenly, the whole room was too bright from him to see as a bright, white light coming from the core of the machine shone brightly. Red Robin called for Batman a few times before the machine whirled for the last time and exploded, sent Red Robin flying across the room and the machine crushed underneath the rubbles into oblivion.

=======================================

The footage cut off right away after the explosion, leaving you heaved for a sharp breath as the camera went blank. You could see the reflection of you own face on the screen, how horror seeped right through your skin and welled in your eyes. You were unaware with tears that streamed down your face until you saw your reflection. Behind you was your children, all wide eye from witnessing the footage.

“So that was the explanation for your dislocated shoulders months ago?” Dick asked, his tone was demanding and worried.

“Yeah. I am sorry I didn’t tell any of you sooner,” Tim said bashfully. Cass silently approached him and pulled him into a half-hug. Tim smiled in appreciation. “But did you see the light zapped from that machine briefly before it blows up?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I think that light was what took Bruce away,” Tim said firmly. He had spent so many nights watching the footage over and over again, he practically could recite it in his sleep. “That would explain the lack evidence of his dead body. Besides, if you notice,” Tim pressed play on the footage again, and paused right few seconds before the explosion. “He was already gone when the machine blows up.”

“Are you trying to say that machine was a transfer device?” Damian asked, his eyes watched the paused footage before shifted into his brother.

“Could be. I tried to work with all sources that I have, but I can’t possibly decipher all the codes since the machine blow up before I could transfer everything,” Tim rolled his chair in front of the Batcomputer, his fingers swiftly typed few codes that he had known by heart. The monitor showed a half-finished string of codes. “See. It’s all half-baked. My strongest theory that I can come up with it was the machine use the same technology used for Zeta Beams. More or less.”

“So… B isn’t dead from the explosion, he was transferred into another place before the machine blows up?” Jason asked slowly.

“Another place, another timeline, or dimension.”

“Shit,” Dick cursed. His fingers ran through his hair as he stared into the footage again. “If you were right, then Bruce is trapped and possibly having no idea on how to go back.”

“Call the League,” you finally found your voice back. You were surprised you could muster a coherent sentence with a firm voice. “I know what you’re all thinking. But this is dangerous. Call the League.”

“We have all the sources we could possibly need!” Damian argued. “From what I know, they abandoned the warehouse. The machine could still be there. We just need to salvage some data and move in motion after that.”

“I know that all of you are more than capable, but I am your mother. I have my limit. I have lost my husband; I am not going to lose my children too.” The firmness on your voice left no room to argue. You stared into your children one by one to emphasize your argument. “This is their mission after all. You all will work side by side with them. And none of you will work without them. Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, let’s go upstairs and eat some dinner. I’ll call Clark first thing in the morning, for now let’s just take some rest.” you ushered your children towards the staircase leading into the house.

Dinner was normal to say the least. But there was a growing tension that everyone had tried so hard not to talk about for their mother’s sake. You practically could see all of your children twitched in impatience and anticipation, all minds already long gone into a battle that still yet to happen.

“We’ll find him, Mom,” Dick said with a kiss on your temple at night before bed. You mustered your best reassuring smile, cradled your son in your arms. For the first time in a long time, you were scared for your children’s life.

Sleep seemingly unwilling to come that night. You spent the night tossed around relentlessly; mind wandered far into all possible scenarios that you could come up with. Was Bruce really out there, trapped in a place he didn’t belong? It had been three months without him, you didn’t want to get too hopeful. But a tiny part in your heart longed to be with him once more and wished to hold him in your arms again.

====================================

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you again,” Diana beamed as soon as her eyes caught your presence. It made her smile, as you walked towards her and quickly accepted her invitation for a hug. “I miss our girl’s night.”

You chuckled at the mention of your sacred night. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve called you sooner.”

“No, no. No apology. I understand what you’ve been through was hard and hurtful,” Diana was quick to squish your apology. “Besides, looks like somebody’s a little jealous that she isn’t invited into our small reunion.”

You followed Diana’s gaze, and a smile twitched at the corner of your lips at the sight of Dinah lurked in the corner. You laughed, gestured for her to come. Dinah came right away, a frown formed on her lips as she crashed you into a bone-crushing hug.

“My God, you have no idea how relieved and happy I am when you called!” Dinah breathed. She patted your back gently.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve called sooner.”

“I am glad either way,” Dinah said as she released you from her hug, but her hand lingered on your wrist before she let out a sigh. “We are here for you, all of us. We always will. And we’ll find him.”

“I don’t want to be too hopeful,” you said sullenly. “But whatever happen, I hope it helps the League to find the trail of whoever responsible behind this.”

The League had been called first thing in the morning, and now you had all of the superhero cramped together inside your house. You watched from the back of the room the briefing that Tim gave to the League upon the lead and dots he had connected in past three months. Your heart sank into your stomach like a sandbag upon watching the footage again where your husband presumed died three months ago.

Alfred came few moments later with a tray full of refreshment. He decided to stay at the back of the room with you, watching all of your children had meeting with the League.

“Even though I have witnessed this thousand time over, it’s never getting any easier,” you sighed as you broke the silence. “It feels like I am sending my children into a suicide mission with no precaution. To save their father. We don’t know the threat that might wait for them out there.”

“We never could shelter our children forever even if we wanted to. They ought to spread their wings out there one way or another. It’s their thing after all, they would never sleep before they find the answer,” Alfred offered a consolidation. “The best we can do is to make it as safe as possible. You have done that.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Alfred.”

==================================

It had been three weeks since the last time you witnessed all of the Justice League member cramped together inside your house for a meeting. Your children had been sent on a mission alongside the League. You couldn’t say you like it, but you saw the childish excitement Damian tried so hard to hide from the thought of fighting alongside the League, and opted to at least look approving. You were proud nonetheless.

The house was a little empty without most of your children’s presence as they’re out for a mission. Spared for Damian who was constantly sent home to attend school. Alfred had helped you to take care of Wayne Enterprise in Tim’s absence as you tore yourself in half between your work in hospital and taking the lead for the company, but it was still manageable at least.

Damian would tell you about the mission progress all the time, which sadly wasn’t much. But they still had baby steps progress nonetheless, and progress is still a progress. They have managed to salvage some valuable parts from the machine, but it wasn’t much of a lead to give them answer.

You get off from your car after you gather some courage to walk into an empty house again. The day had been long and tedious, you had just chewed out marketing department this morning and had to tended some patients in the afternoon. All of your muscles are sore and you wanted nothing but a long hot bath.

The house was empty just as you suspected. But you found a surprise as you stepped into the study room to grab some book to read. The grandfather’s clock was opened ajar, meaning somebody must have went downstairs into the Batcave. It could be Alfred cleaning up, but you found herself going downstairs.

Your eyes widened as soon as the sound of murmured conversations come into your ears. You descended down further; head perked up at the familiar sound you had missed so much. “Guys!” you practically shouted as you ran towards your children. “Oh my God, you’re all here.”

It was Jason who caught you first and welcomed you into his embrace. Your other children soon followed and trapped you in the middle, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. All of your fatigue and stress suddenly lifted from your shoulders now that all of your children are home safe and sound.

“How was your mission? All good? Are you guys safe?” come the string of questions you couldn’t help but to ask. You quickly check all of your children for any obvious injury, and you found yourself let out a long, relieved breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“We are, Mama,” Jason gently placed his hands on your shoulder to ground you. “We figure we might come home for a little while. It’s been a long time after all.”

“Yeah. I miss your beef stew,” Tim chimed in. “Can we have it for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course,” you said as you gently cradled Cass in your arms. Cass clung into you like a baby koala for dear life, her nose nuzzled into your collarbone seeking for comfort. It made your heart soared and dropped at the same time, knowing that she found comfort in your presence and the fact that she must’ve had deprived for comfort that she actively seeks for it.

All of you shared blissful moment together, all shared some jokes and recite few relaxed and funny moments happened during mission. You were glad nonetheless, with Cass laid her head on your lap, Damian pressed against your side, and all of your children are here laughing and reciting some stories, you couldn’t ask for a better way to end the day.

The Batcomputer suddenly beeped, alerted everyone that somebody is coming. Dick quickly rose from his seat and take a solemn look to the computer screen. “It’s Uncle Supes and Wonder Woman,” he announced, a little confused at their arrival.

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. Does it mean all of your children had to go for a mission again?

The door to the Batcave opened not so long after, revealed two hero came into the light. All of your children were already on their feet and geared up, ready to dive back into the battle once they’re needed. But a strange expression coming from Diana and Clark somehow told you that it was not a mission.

“Clark? Diana? Is everything alright?” you were concerned. You found yourself pulled Damian into your side and firmly held him, afraid of letting your son go once more.

“Y/N, you might want to sit down,” Clark gently said.

Diana gently took you into her arms and led you into the nearest chair. You were still a little puzzled, your heart racing against your chest. Diana then gently placed her hand on your shoulders, her eyes solemnly staring into yours with an unreadable expression. It frustrated you greatly.

“Diana, what is going on?” you demanded.

“Hold on for a little while. But I need you to sit down.”

“What–” you opened your mouth to protest, but was cut off abruptly at the sight appeared in front of you.

You blinked rapidly, afraid that it was some mind trick that you weren't aware about. You found yourself awestruck, unable to move, but at the same time unable to believe your own eyes. You heaved few heavy breaths that sounded like you were half laughing and half crying, your mouth went agape at the sight alone.

“Holy shit,” you could hear Jason cursed loudly. “Holy shit. It works.”

So it was real, then.

There he was. Your husband. The one and only Bruce Wayne. Completely alive albeit looked a little gruff and exhausted. He had some rough stubble all over his chin, and the usual light in his eyes had dimmed. You could only stare and stare, your mouth let out few incoherent noises that was only above whisper.

Bruce slowly approached you. As if he was afraid, but the corner of his eyes lifted up happily at the sight of you stared at him like a deer caught in the headlight. From this close distance, you could see his eyes glossed from tears that started to well in his eyes. You watched him kneeled in front of you.

“Honey,” Bruce said as he gently took your hand into his. “I am so sorry.”

“Bruce,” you let out a shaky breath, sounded as if you were strangled. Your unoccupied hand shakily covered your trembling lips, eyes widened in disbelief. “Is this… is this really you? Are you real?”

Bruce gently took your hand and placed it on his rough cheek. There was a growing eye bag underneath his eyes. He looked so much older and tired than the last time you had remembered him. “It’s me. It’s me. As real as I could be.”

There are few beats of silence before you let out a strangled cry. You cupped his face with your hand, thumb gently stroking his cheeks. The stubble on his chin felt rough underneath your skin, but you found yourself loving the way it felt. “Bruce Wayne, you little shit! You promised that we will die together when we’re grey and old in our nineties!”

Bruce let out a surprised chuckle. It was warm and familiar, and you had missed it so much. It had been way too long since the last time you heard his laughter. “Therefore, here I am. Coming back to you to fulfil my promise.”

You smiled shakily as you laughed through the tears that stubbornly streamed down you face. You leaned closer to rest your forehead against his. “Don’t pull that stunt on me again.”

“I promised you I will always come back to you. And I do.”

“What happened?”

“The machine that I investigated had sent me into far past. I was trapped there unable to come back home, but I managed to survive. Until I met Barry, he said that he able to finished and decipher all the code gathered and redesigned the machine to bring me back. And therefore, here I am,” Bruce explained. “The warehouse was a trap set up to harm me. But Tim managed to inserted some codes before it exploded, so it sent me into different time instead of kill me in explosion. We figure it was a part of Injustice League’s scheme.”

“All I could think about was you. I worried about you and the kids. Sometimes the only thing that could get me through the day was the thought of that one day I will finally able to come back home to you.” Bruce placed a tender kiss on your knuckles. “You have managed to save me over and over again. Thank you.”

You couldn’t muster up any single words, so instead, you threw yourself into his embrace. Soon all of her kids would join and trapped you in the middle. Although Jason acted as if he hated it, you knew that deep inside his heart he was relieved to have his father back. Dick didn’t even bother to hide his excitement; he was just happy his family was whole once more.

That night, for the first time in forever, the night didn’t feel long and tedious. Or torturous. But neither of you and Bruce could able to sleep in a wink, you and him just hold each other close and greedily craved for each other’s presence. No words exchanged between you and him, however. But you were relieved. You were reunited with your love once more, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary62

11/12-13/2023

sunday - monday

single is out now, wow.

my mom texted me a bit ago, just because, which is nice. in other news i finally put out the single i've been sitting on/trying to get right, and i got it right today, by adding a tiny bit to the left channel, and remixing the b side, which was very easy, now that i'm used to that process. like i said in the main post, the cover art had to be messed w/ to get it right for various platforms, the png was too big and all that stuff. when i make the next cover it needs to be at 3000x3000, which bites kind of, i like how much you can do w/ 5000x5000.

anyway, here is the image as it is as a jpg (actually png):

and there is the song, is it even possible to link to playlists on tumblr? also i can't even put anything abt this on instagram, how weird and annoying.

okay i got the insta thing to work (they too cannot handle the 5kx5k image and instead wanted it to be 50% the size (but they would not tell me that!!)). i wonder what i'm gonna do tomorrow, with music or cooking or anything really. i wanted to get this out because i want people to hear this if they come to me from that interview i did (lol), so they get a better idea of where i'm at musically i guess. this isn't really super representative of the whole record still though, but i like that. it's different angles on roughly the same kind of sound(s)/idea(s). i really like the ugly feedback stuff i added today.

all the weird hiccups i ran into today w/ cover art was really baffling, it's not like anyone is gonna notice this stuff really but i don't really like how it looks at 50% size because it makes some of the pixellations weird (i overuse dithering/indexed images in a weird way where they overlap and create new patterns (i hope)) this whole process fucking with the things i do, sort of. i don't think it's absent entirely it's just different/more disordered. if i focus on 3k x 3k and a pretty precise colorspace (that i need to figure out) then i think i'll be good. what i'm thinking of is doing 2 different 16 color palettes for 2 different sides of the collage / different pieces. so certain things can pop, i guess. anyways i guess sometime soon i should assemble the things i want to use for the cover art, and create at least the one thing i am certain on wanting for it (pink and black bull's eye thingy).

also i was able to get the image on sc to just be the jpg of the real cover, which is kind of crazy to me, but whatever.

regarding my life as i live it, nothing really happened, my gf dyed her hair blonde, which is funny, it's already blonde. she's been doing this a while but it makes me wonder, i guess, about how she likes it more blonde, more than natural. it looks good on her, it's just funny how i thought it was pretty bright normally, but apparently not bright enough, i wonder if it corresponds to how she imagines herself, i remember the first time, it was very crazy to her, it felt/looked perfect on her, it was sort of like she was meant to be that cartoonishly blonde, in like a 1970s anime kind of way.

and now i am just sat here eating pretzels to stave of cravings for sweets (trying to keep my mouth occupied i guess (i do that a lot)).

anyway i am tired, i ought to just turn in soon, soon:

byebye!!!!!!!