#reflecting on my past decisions

[dottores]

me to my bf: idk bro maybe i am just a bit crazy and reading into things

my bf, listing off approximately a dozen and a half previous instances where i was not, in fact, wrong and judging me for questioning myself now: 😐

[ikkaku-of-heart]

Guys, I’m realizing that while it was implied several times in my rules, it’s never actually stated clearly, so I’m going to updates those, but I wanted to make a post to ensure this doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone.

This blog is MUTUALS ONLY when it comes to in-character interactions.

Now, this doesn’t mean that non-mutuals aren’t welcome. It’s just that there are a few boundaries you’ve got to follow. Non-mutuals CAN send in headcanon asks or anons. Non-mutuals are also free to like my posts and reblog drabbles, headcanons, aesthetic stuff, fanart, and memes (though try to go to the source for the last three). I’m cool with that.

But if we aren’t mutuals, please don’t send in in-character asks/interactions, like starters, respond to open starters, reblog in-character writing like dash comms, etc.

This is on me. I had really thought my being mutuals only was in my header and rules, but alas, it was only implied. I should have known better, but I will be firmer on this. If you’re someone who breaks this *now very clear rule* more than once, you will be hardblocked. Because that tells me that you don’t bother to read rules.

[lightinexile]

hardest decision in this entire ES so far is deciding whether i want to make the in-character decision of Anise nerding out over fourth city relics or have an in-character outcome of Anise encouraging whimsy over forgotten objects

[fastcardotmp3]

I want to read your Chrissy/Nancy fic but I’ve been kind of wary because it’s tagged for ed mentions (understandable, since it’s Chrissy) and typically that’s a big no for me, but I’m wondering how strong of a theme is it? Does it get graphic? Is it easy to skim the parts that mention it without missing too much of the story?

Thanks

that's a totally reasonable wariness to have dude and I'm glad you asked.

I would say it's a present but not overwhelming theme in the sense that both girls are getting pretty thoroughly Character Studied, but it's mostly a predetermined fact of her past that's rarely mentioned for more than a couple sentences at a time. It does however get implications/ references scattered throughout.

it never gets more graphic than it does on the show (and only that graphic once in a direct reference to that scene for about a sentence or 2) and more serves as a point of comparison for how Chrissy has changed not just physically (specifically re: vampire traits) but how her thought processes have changed too, which includes a shedding of shame in this regard.

Nobody is intentionally engaging in disordered eating behaviors in the fic outside of brief ruminations on the past, but that being said, the new sorts of hunger that she experiences and the way it's different from being hungry as a human are discussed here and there as she and Nancy both try and figure out what exactly it is she needs to feel at full strength. The first couple of parts have more of an emphasis on this than the rest because she's learning a brand new physiology, but once they know what she needs, she gets it.

The helpful thing about this fic's chapters being their own individual fics on ao3 also means there are tags for each one, so if it's not in the tags on a specific "part" you can be sure it's not in there at all (mostly the Nancy POVs which is about half of them)

Ultimately, Chrissy's arc is about leaving behind a lot of the boxes she (and others) put her into while she was still alive and allowing herself a freedom in death that she's never known before, so any mentions of past ED end up framed within that eventually, but I also completely understand if any of the above mentioned is still too heavy a theme and appreciate you asking for clarification💜

[zushikun]

[chickpea0]

What's something you've done recently (or not so recently) that you're proud of? Put it in the tags if you'd like!!

[theambitiouswoman]

How To Become A Brand New Person ✨✨

Self Reflect:

Journal daily.

Think about past decisions and how they impacted your life.

Meditate regularly.

Create a vision board to visualize your goals.

Review your strengths and weaknesses.

Identify your core values and beliefs.

Figure out your passions and interests.

Think about your childhood dreams and aspirations.

Evaluate your current state of happiness and fulfillment.

Set Clear Goals:

Define specific career goals, like "Get promoted within two years."

Set health goals, like "Lose 20 pounds in six months."

Create financial goals such as "Save $10,000 for a vacation."

Establish personal development goals, like "Read 24 books in a year."

Set relationship goals, such as "Improve communication with my partner."

Define education goals, like "Complete a master's degree in three years."

Set travel goals, like "Visit five new countries in the next two years."

Create hobbies and interests goals, such as "Learn to play a musical instrument."

Set community or volunteer goals, like "Volunteer 100 hours this year."

Establish mindfulness or self-care goals, such as "Practice meditation daily."

Self Care:

Exercise for at least 30 minutes a day.

Follow a balanced diet with plenty of fruits and vegetables.

Prioritize getting 7-9 hours of quality sleep each night.

Practice in relaxation techniques like deep breathing or yoga.

Take regular breaks at work to avoid burnout.

Schedule "me time" for activities you enjoy.

Limit exposure to stressors and toxic people.

Practice regular skincare and grooming routines.

Seek regular medical check-ups and screenings.

Stay hydrated by drinking enough water daily.

Personal Development:

Read a book every month from various genres.

Attend workshops or seminars on topics of interest.

Learn a new language or musical instrument.

Take online courses to acquire new skills.

Set aside time for daily reflection and self improvement.

Seek a mentor in your field for guidance.

Attend conferences and networking events.

Start a side project or hobby to expand your abilities.

Practice public speaking or communication skills.

Do creative activities like painting, writing, or photography.

Create a Support System:

Build a close knit group of friends who uplift and inspire you.

Join clubs or organizations aligned with your interests.

Connect with a mentor or life coach.

Attend family gatherings to maintain bonds.

Be open and honest in your communication with loved ones.

Seek advice from trusted colleagues or supervisors.

Attend support groups for specific challenges (e.g., addiction recovery).

Cultivate online connections through social media.

Find a therapist or counselor for emotional support.

Participate in community or volunteer activities to meet like minded people.

Change Habits:

Cut back on sugary or processed foods.

Reduce screen time and increase physical activity.

Practice gratitude by keeping a daily journal.

Manage stress through mindfulness meditation.

Limit procrastination by setting specific deadlines.

Reduce negative self-talk by practicing self-compassion.

Establish a regular exercise routine.

Create a budget and stick to it.

Develop a morning and evening routine for consistency.

Overcome Fear and Self Doubt:

Face a specific fear head-on (example: public speaking).

Challenge your negative thoughts with positive affirmations.

Seek therapy to address underlying fears or traumas.

Take small, calculated risks to build confidence.

Visualize success in challenging situations.

Surround yourself with supportive and encouraging people.

Journal about your fears and doubts to gain clarity.

Celebrate your accomplishments, no matter how small.

Focus on your strengths and accomplishments.

Embrace failure as a valuable learning experience.

Embrace Change:

Relocate to a new city or country.

Switch careers or industries to pursue your passion.

Take on leadership roles in your workplace.

Volunteer for projects outside your comfort zone.

Embrace new technologies and digital tools.

Travel to unfamiliar destinations.

Start a new hobby or creative endeavor.

Change your daily routine to add variety.

Adjust your mindset to see change as an opportunity.

Seek out diverse perspectives and viewpoints.

Practice Gratitude:

Write down three things you're grateful for each day.

Express gratitude to loved ones regularly.

Create a gratitude jar and add notes of appreciation.

Reflect on the positive aspects of challenging situations.

Show gratitude by volunteering or helping others in need.

Send thank-you notes or messages to people who've helped you.

Keep a gratitude journal and review it regularly.

Share your gratitude openly during family meals or gatherings.

Focus on the present moment and appreciate the little things.

Practice gratitude even in times of adversity.

Be Patient:

Set realistic expectations for your progress.

Accept that personal growth takes time.

Focus on the journey rather than the destination.

Learn from setbacks and view them as opportunities to improve.

Celebrate small milestones along the way.

Practice self-compassion during challenging times.

Stay committed to your goals, even when progress is slow.

Keep a journal to track your personal growth.

Recognize that patience is a valuable skill in personal transformation.

Celebrate Small Wins:

Treat yourself to your favorite meal or dessert.

Reward yourself with a spa day or self-care activity.

Share your achievements with friends and loved ones.

Create a vision board to visualize your successes.

Acknowledge and congratulate yourself in a journal.

Give yourself permission to take a break and relax.

Display reminders of your accomplishments in your workspace.

Take a day off to celebrate a major milestone.

Host a small gathering to mark your achievements.

Set aside time to reflect on how far you've come.

Maintain Balance:

Set clear boundaries in your personal and work life.

Prioritize self care activities in your daily routine.

Schedule regular breaks and downtime.

Learn to say "no" when necessary to avoid overcommitment.

Evaluate your work life balance regularly.

Seek support from friends and family to avoid burnout.

Be kind to yourself and accept imperfections.

Practice mindfulness to stay present and grounded.

Revisit your priorities and adjust them as needed.

Embrace self love and self acceptance as part of your daily life.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐎𝐝𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: Zayne wants to fulfill your odd request.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I want a baby.” Is a request that makes Zayne’s eyebrows perk up. An odd request coming from you. To him, it feels out of nowhere since he’s never noticed you take interest in kids. 

Zayne is not the type of man to miss any details about you, so this is coming out of nowhere. He’s been caught up in the hospital lately, so perhaps something happened the past few days. It’s still a very big decision, one that he wants you to ponder on.

It’s a very big decision that he wants you to reflect on, after all, bringing a child into the world is no small feat. He doesn’t want you to change your mind once it’s too late… Perhaps that’s what he should’ve considered before letting you under him. He should’ve opened his mouth before letting you get too close. A simple look, one soft touch– That’s all he needs to do anything you want him to.

“It’s so fucking good!” You’re practically yelling as he thrusts in and out of you. Your back is on the bed, legs on his shoulders as he relentlessly fucks your cunt.

You’re stuffed with his cum, but Zayne needs to continue fucking you. He’s looking down at the way your pussy wraps around him, taking every inch like a good girl.

“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, holding on to your hips for support. He’s noticed that he can fuck you so deep in this position, and it’s easily become one of his favorites. He rarely curses, but he can’t help but mutter out a few curses from how good he feels around your cunt, “Fuck…”

Your hands grip the bed sheets, eyes rolling to the back of your head as pleasure runs through your body. You’ve always had great sexual chemistry with your husband, but the moment you asked for a baby something changed. It flipped a switch that you absolutely adore. He’s fucking you with a purpose.

“You’re gonna look so perfect carrying my baby.” Zayne mutters as one hand goes down to play with your clit. You loudly moan his name over and over again as he makes a mess out of you. “Please make me a daddy, baby. Please, please, please.”

You’ve never heard Zayne so needy before. The idea of getting you pregnant is clearly turning him on. The neighbors can surely hear how loud you’re being, but shame walked out of the door after the first round.

“Zayne–” You begin to squeeze around him as pleasure consumes you. The senseless talk that leaves his lips only works you up more. 

“Need to knock you up. You’re going to look so beautiful.” He’s groaning. He’s shutting his eyes, unable to bear the feeling. It’s too much for him to handle, you just feel so nice and tight around him, “Need to see you pregnant with my baby.”

Your back is arching as your climax approaches. Zayne is hitting all the right spots, which is driving you wild. He’s moaning your name over and over again.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest as your orgasm washes over you. His thrusts begin to get sloppy, knowing that he’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna knock you up.” He mutters. He throws his head back, his thrusts slowing down as he releases his seed inside you. He’s pumping you full of his cum, and your cunt milks him for every drop of it. Because it is a lot. Zayne comes so much inside of you.

It’s the third time in the night. Zayne pulls out of you, and lays down beside you. His fingers are pushing his cum back inside of you. You’re both panting, catching your breaths.

He’s already thinking about fucking you again, but before anything else he has the audacity to ask,

“Are you sure you want a baby?”

You chuckle.

“I’m sure I’m already pregnant.”

[sochilll]

For music asks: 30 :)

30: A song that reminds you of yourself

Oooooh tricky to choose one because a lot of songs were I’m like “this is me” It’s about like a specific line(s)

I think the ones that most truly remind me of me are perhaps:

More to Give by Isabel Pless

Good Person by gilanares

When by Dodie

Music asks!

[rikkivoid]

this is my final post! the past few years have been amazing - thank you for everything <3 (more info below the cut)

I will no longer post on this account and wanted to write a note to explain and say goodbye.

Bnha and the bkdk fandom have been a constant source of joy and excitement in my life since 2018 - you were all so kind and encouraging towards me, and I grew so much in skill and confidence as a result! I’ll really treasure my time in this fandom. I loved experiencing so much incredible fanwork and freaking out over exciting moments from the series with everyone in real time. (I still remember choking on my drink and falling to the ground when I saw the vol.29 cover on my tl omg… it was life changing.)

I went on hiatus last year to reconnect with my passion for making art outside of bkdk and learn what I wanted to create without the influence of external validation. I had time to reflect on how much I was influenced by numbers on social media. I thought they didn’t affect me, but in truth, they completely ruled my artistic judgment and decisions. I found new hobbies, new media, experimented with different mediums and subject matters, and in the end… I rediscovered my joy for making art! 

This year, I gave myself a fresh start instead of returning to this account. This is partly because I really enjoy exploring erotic and transgressive themes and I don’t want to share it on a large account to people who followed me under a different pretense haha. But the main reason is that I wanted to create a space without any expectation for what kind of art I should make based on my previous work (since I know the majority of people follow me because I draw bkdk, and I mainly draw ocs and unrelated fanart now). 

All this to say, I hope we can cross paths in the future, but if that day never comes, thank you for the wonderful memories and support you’ve given me over the years! This fandom has so many incredible people in it and I sincerely wish you all the best. PLUS ULTRA!!!! and farewell! :’3

Lots of love,

Rikki <3 

[This account will stay up, but I won't be checking it much. If you have any questions or would like to get in touch, email me at rikkivoid@gmail.com and we can go from there!]

[feidude]

update: so far i did one thing ☝️

[deception-united]

Let's talk about character development.

Creating multidimensional characters make them more relatable to your readers. They add richness and complexity to the narrative, enhancing its overall depth and resonance.

So. How?

Complex motivations: Characters should have motivations that go beyond simple desires or goals. Delve deep into their past experiences, fears, and desires to understand what truly drives them. Keep them consistent yet nuanced for realistic character growth and change throughout the story.

Flaws and vulnerabilities: Avoid creating characters who are too perfect or flawless. Imperfections make characters relatable and interesting. Give them vulnerabilities, weaknesses, and struggles to overcome. This adds depth to their personalities and creates opportunities for character development.

Internal conflict: Explore the internal conflicts within your characters. This could be moral dilemmas, inner turmoil, or conflicting emotions. Internal struggles can be just as compelling, if not more so, than external conflicts, and they add layers to your characters' development. (See my previous post about this!)

Consistent behaviour: Make sure to keep your characters' actions, reactions, and decisions consistent with their established personalities, backgrounds, and motivations. Inconsistencies can break the reader's immersion and credibility in the story. And the fandom will hunt you down mercilessly.

Unique voice: Each character should have a distinct voice and mannerisms that reflect their personality, background, and worldview. Pay attention to the way they speak, their vocabulary, and their gestures. This will really help to bring your characters to life.

Dynamic relationships: Develop dynamic relationships between your characters. Interactions with other characters should reveal new facets of their personalities and contribute to their growth or downfalls. Explore different types of relationships (friendships, romances, rivalries, family dynamics, etc.) to add depth to your characters' experiences.

Arc of change: Consider how your characters evolve over the course of the story. What lessons do they learn? How do their experiences shape them? Every significant event should impact your characters in some way, leading to growth, transformation, or regression.

Happy writing ❤

Previous | Next

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.

You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.

Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.

“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.

“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.

“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.

It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.

So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.

“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.

Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”

“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”

This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”

The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.

The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.

“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”

Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.

He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.

“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.

“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”

“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”

He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.

“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”

You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”

Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.

You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.

With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.

You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.

Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.

Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.

Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.

As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.

Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.

The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.

There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.

You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.

Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.

“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.

The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.

Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.

“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.

The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.

“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.

Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.

“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.

As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.

Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.

But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.

Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.

A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.

“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”

Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.

“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”

Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.

Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.

“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.

It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.

Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.

The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.

“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”

Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.

The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.

Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.

“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.

“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”

“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”

Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.

Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.

As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.

You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.

Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.

“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.

You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.

“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”

The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.

By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.

Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.

Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.

You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.

The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.

It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.

Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.

“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.

Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.

“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.

Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.

Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.

“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”

Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”

Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.

You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.

Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.

[eddiazx]

emergency - evan buckley x reader

You were frustrated.

Buck was frustrated.

Not at each other, no. But at the fact that you both hadn’t been able to have sex with each other in the past month.

When Connor and Kameron approached Buck asking him to be their sperm donor, you both had reflected together because Buck didn’t want to make any decisions without the input of his girlfriend. In the end, it was something Buck truly wanted to do for his friends, and you had admired his selflessness.

You’re rethinking your stance on it now however, because your generous, sweet, boyfriend decided to abstain from everything, from alcohol to fried foods to sex, to ensure he could give some strong swimmers. And while that shouldn’t necessarily be seen as an issue, with your long hours at the firehouse, and the clinic continually rescheduling Buck’s appointment, things were getting more than a little tense for the both of you.

Like now, for example. After a 12-hour shift, you pull off your LAFD shirt in the locker rooms, leaving you in just your slacks and beige bra. While on any other day Buck is able to keep his desire for you at bay and not bring it into the workspace (or so he tries), today is not one of those days. Especially not with the pressure building for the past 4 weeks.

You turn around from your locker, only to be face-to-face to a boulder in the form of Buck. He looks down at you, blue eyes darker in the dim light of the locker room, breathing heavily, before picking you up by the back of your knees and leaning you up against the wall. You yelp, but instinctively hold onto Buck’s biceps. You’re about to question his actions, before you feel your boyfriend’s full pink lips on yours. Your eyes flutter closed, and you reach up to interlock your fingers to rest on back of his neck.

You kiss each other, a kiss full of yearning and desperation and lust and love. You can feel him pressing into your core, and also… was that a vibrator?

You pull away, searching for whatever was making that noise and sensation. Buck panting, drops his head on your shoulder, and says, “it’s my phone, just ignore it.”

“Buck, just check who it is, it might be an emergency.”

“There’s an emergency happening right here and now, babe.” Buck replies, cheekily, but ultimately adjusts you so he was holding you up with only one arm, while he slides his other hand to grab his phone from his back pocket.

Buck furrows his brows and answers, and within seconds pure glee overtakes his face. He hangs up, and drops you back gently with your feet on the floor.

“What is it?” You question, slightly disappointed that you were interrupted.

“That was the clinic. They asked if I could come, heh, in 20 minutes, because they had a last minute cancellation.” Buck explains.

“This also means”, he continues running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, “that you are not getting any sleep tonight. So go home, eat a big meal, and I’ll join you in our bedroom in about two hours.”

You couldn’t wait.

[especially-obsessed]

Anchor

Summary: JJ wonders why you never go swimming with any of the Pogues. So he takes it upon himself to find out

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, mentions of drowning/death, aquaphobia, mild swearing

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Enjoy <3

Masterlist

You peer into the water, watching the bubbles breaking the surface from where Pope had just dove in, nearly landing on John B’s head. You let out a soft chuckle, watching them play like there wasn’t a care in the world. Kiara was further away from the boat with Sarah, waiting for the boys to follow them. 

You wondered what it would be like to swim out here again. It would be nice not to feel left out anytime the group wanted to go swimming or surfing, even though it was a feeling of your own making. Your smile faded at the thought. 

Suddenly, you feel your body being pulled from the edge of the boat by two strong hands gripping your waist. Just as quickly, your feet are no longer touching the floor of the boat; they’re being swept out from under you. You feel a body pressed to you and look into his eyes, yours wild with fear.

“J, what are you-” you start, grasping at his biceps, struggling against his strong hold on you.

“Better hold your breath, sweetheart,” he says, moving closer to the side of the boat. 

You can feel his chest expand as he sucks in his breath of air and takes a step up. “No, JJ, no, put me down!” you scream.

But it was too late.

The two of you were already falling through the air off the side of The Snapper. You held on to JJ as tightly as you could, your stomach dropping farther than the drop off of the boat (which was even more terrifying because this boat was much larger than the HMS Pogue was).

Your body started to drift from JJ’s just before you hit the water, and there was no air in your lungs. You were petrified with fear. The water encompassed you, and you instantly lost JJ. The bubbles from your abrupt entry into the water surrounded you, tickling your skin. You opened your eyes under the water's surface and saw the outline of JJ’s body already making its way back up for air. 

But you were still sinking. Why were you sinking? What the hell was happening right now? You opened your mouth to scream for help, instantly regretting your decision. Water flooded your airways, seeping to the very bottom of your lungs. Your eyes were burning, and you didn’t know where you were.

Is this what drowning felt like? You fill up with water like a sponge until there’s nothing left for you to take in. You tried to move your arms in any direction you could, trying to move your body in any direction. The water was thick like honey, keeping your limbs stagnant. But you still weren’t moving fast enough. You weren’t going to make it to the surface. There was no time left. 

The corners of your vision started to blur before beginning to go dark. Your limbs were weightless, floating aimlessly in the water. You felt no pain, no fear. Your body was shutting down. You felt your body jolt upwards suddenly, just before your vision completely faded.

Before your eyes are even open, you’re coughing up water. Aggressively. Your lungs can’t fill up with air fast enough, and the water clogging your airways going in the opposite direction wasn’t helping. Your gag reflex kicked in, and you rolled your head to the side to try to keep yourself from drowning. Again.

“Oh my God,” you heard someone mumble. There were a few sighs, even a 'thank God'. You finally opened your eyes, but everything was blurry. You were blinded by the sun's reflection on all the white surrounding you. You closed your eyes, unable to see anything anyway.

From the gentle swaying you felt, you were back on the boat. Thank God. You rolled onto your back again and took deep breaths, still coughing every few breaths.

You opened your eyes again, seeing a blond mop of sea-kissed curls blocking the sun from your view. You could see the sun rays poking out in a few different directions past his head. It almost looked like a halo around his head. JJ was hovering above you, his hands placed on either side of your head, his legs straddling your hips. He looked into your eyes, worry written all over his countenance. It pained you to see him so upset. 

“What the hell happened?” someone asked. Pope. You recognized his hoarse voice instantly. He was somewhere by your head, out of your field of vision. 

“They jumped in together, and y/n just never came back up,” Kie said somewhere to your left. You turned your head toward her, seeing how worried she was. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, you know,” you said, trying to relieve the apparent tension surrounding you. Pope sighed as he walked to the back of the boat. 

“Apparently, we can,” John B retorted. He was standing next to Kie. Sarah was cradled into his side and smacked his chest lightly, even though she was smiling. 

 “You never said you can’t swim,” JJ muttered. You turned your attention back to the blonde boy still blocking the sun from you. You gave him a confused look, not processing what he just said. 

“You never told us. Why the hell wouldn’t you tell us something like that?” He asked, his voice getting louder. He moved himself off of you, allowing the sun to blind you in his absence. You squinted and attempted to sit up. Sarah jolted forward to help you. JJ was pacing, running his fingers through his hair. “If I would have known that, I wouldn’t have jumped into the water with you!” He shouted. 

“JJ..” you started, but he wasn’t stopping. 

“You could’ve died! You were just at the bottom of the marsh and-”

“It’s okay, J-” John B started, placing a hand on his chest. JJ brushed him off and shook his head. He grabbed his hat from the floor of the boat and fixed it the way he does so effortlessly. You looked up to try and meet his gaze, but he was looking anywhere but at you. He shook his head again and moved to the boat's cockpit.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, unsure what to do. Guilt washed over you. JJ started the engine and did quick work to get the boat going. John B patted your shoulder and smiled before walking towards the back of the ship. Kie wrapped a towel around your shoulders, goosebumps blanketing your skin as the salty marsh air whipped around you. Sarah and Kie sat on either side of you, wrapping their arms around you. They were keeping you safe in their own way.

You looked back up, trying to catch JJ’s eye, but he was looking out on the water, not so much as glancing in your direction. His jaw was clenched tightly, unwavering as he maneuvered the boat through the marsh.  

You felt terrible. Guilt was seeping out of your every poor. You felt nauseous. And your diaphragm hurts, like the feeling you have after you’ve had hiccups for an hour. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before,” you whispered to the girls. Kie scoffed, resting her elbow on her knee and placing her hand under her chin.

Sarah rubbed your back. “It would have been nice to know,” she said lightheartedly. 

“I just figured you were scared of sharks or something crazy. Even though they are very gentle creatures,” Kie added. You laughed (or attempted to). It quickly became a cough with even more water coming out of your lungs. You wiped at your mouth with the towel. When you looked up, JJ’s eyes were boring a hole into your skull. He looked away when he noticed you were staring back at him. It was going to be a long ride back to Poguelandia. 

You were almost dry by the time JJ had the boat docked. Pope had made his way back to the front of the boat to check on you. He checked your pupils and made sure you didn’t have a concussion. He confirmed that your chances of surviving were almost 100% (because, of course, we could die at any given second). 

Everyone unloaded off the boat, JJ being the first to take off once everything was tied down. He walked up the ramp to the shop and sat behind the counter. He took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair again before putting it back on. He was pacing back and forth, checking on random things in the small store space. Kie waited up for you as everyone made their way back to the house.

"I'll catch up," you told her, glancing at the shop and back to her. She gave you a sympathetic smile before turning and following the others. You unwrapped the towel from around your shoulders and laid it across the railing leading up to the shop. You walked up slowly while making sure not to sneak up on him.

But he knew you were coming.

JJ had his back turned to you, looking out on the water now. You could see his chest moving quickly. His hands were resting on the railing. He used his hands to pull his body forward, bringing his mouth to rest on his hands.

“J, I’m so sorry,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. You stared at the back of his head, trying to read his body language.

“I don’t understand,” he said quietly. He shook his head and straightened his back, turning around to face you. You stared at his face. He no longer looked angry. He was upset, eyes red and bloodshot. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

This wasn’t carefree JJ Maybank, reckless and altruistic until the day he died. This was JJ, vulnerable and terrified, cracking open right before you. All you wanted to do was rush up to him and hug him. Tell him that it was all just a fucked up joke and that he didn’t need to be worried. He could go back to being his energetic self and not worry about you anymore. 

But you knew it was time. It was time to tell him the truth. 

You sighed deeply. Before you could form the right words to start, JJ huffed and put on a stern face. He wiped aggressively at his cheeks, thinking that your sigh was a sign that you weren’t going to justify yourself, that you thought he was being stupid and overreacting.

No, he wasn’t about to stick around for that. He started to walk away, trying to brush past you and get away as quickly as possible.

You caught his wrist before he could get too far. “Stay,” you practically whispered. You held his wrist in your hand. JJ refused to look at you at that moment. You took in a shaky breath. “Please,” you begged. JJ sighed and threw his head back. He slowly turned around, and you let go of his wrist. He kept his gaze lowered to the ground, leaning against one of the wooden beams, studying a knot in the floorboard. When you examined his face, you could see the fallen tear trails. Your heart broke in half. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you started. He still didn’t look up. You could see his nose twitch as he sniffled. You continued anyway. “I should have said something months ago. Hell, I should have said something the first time we went out to surf the surge. But I was scared you guys would judge me.” You paused, still trying to look him in the eye. You moved closer to him, your face inches away from his. You gently lifted his chin with your hand, forcing him to look at you. His eyes were red, and his jaw was tight. You moved your hand to cup his cheek. You felt him lean into your touch slightly. “But…I know how to swim, J,” you said slowly. JJ’s eyes went wide, a multitude of emotions wracking through his brain. He started to pull away from your hand unknowingly. You quickly dropped your hand from his cheek and turned your back to him. You thought he was rejecting your touch, his anger unforgiving. The guilt was engulfing you, swallowing you whole. You felt terrible. 

There was an uncomfortable pause, the silence deafening. You could hear your own heartbeat threatening to beat out of your chest.

“What happened then? Why didn’t you swim?” He asked you. JJ followed you to the edge of the shop where he stood earlier, staring out into the horizon. You just shook your head. Now, it was your turn to avoid eye contact. JJ was leaning on the railing to your left, and you focused on everything and anything to your right. 

“When I was seven, my dad took me out in the marsh. A quick fishing trip, nothing fancy. Some daddy-daughter time. But it all went so wrong. My dad, he…” you stopped, choking on your words. You swallowed harshly. JJ stared at you intently, slowly putting the puzzle pieces together. “I was stuck out there for three days by myself,” you whispered. Realization dawned on him.

You were the Marsh Girl. 

Rumors still went around about the Marsh Girl. People said that her dad went out there and killed both of them, leaving the boat behind as the only evidence. Or that the girl pushed him off the boat and claimed that it was an accident.

The news said a girl was found after three days of being out there, but the name was never released, so of course, kids made up stories. JJ’s worry and anger melted away. He didn’t dare move closer to you, afraid that the slightest movement might shatter you into dust, letting you fall between the gaps of the dock and taken away by the murky water below. Instead, you turn to face him, building up the courage to look at him when you say this. 

“My dad...he must have had a heart attack or something and lost his balance. I was too young to remember all of the details. But when he went over the side of the boat, he took me into the water with him. He almost drowned me," you took in a shaky breath, reliving the memories in a flash second. "When we jumped into the water today…I don’t know what happened to me. I saw you going back up to the water's surface, and I was just…stuck. I wondered if it was how my dad felt when he went into the water. He could see me getting to the surface but couldn’t make it back up himself,” you stated calmly. You close your eyes, unable to look at JJ. Another second, looking at his shattered face, and you would break yourself. “J, I know how to swim.”

“What?” he didn’t mean to say it; it slipped out before he could stop it. JJ mentally smacked a hand over his mouth. He studied your face to see if you were messing with him. 

“I can swim,” you repeated. 

This whole time, JJ thought that he almost drowned you. He had always wondered why you never went into the water with everyone else. He figured it was so that you could keep up on your amazing sunkissed skin or because you didn’t want to get your hair wet. He knew you weren’t that superficial, but it still had crossed his mind. He never in a thousand years would have guessed that this was why you didn’t touch the water. 

“y/n, I almost killed you,” JJ said, fear seeping back into his every pore. The thought of losing you, especially at his own hands, was suffocating. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, unable to control his now erratic breathing. Noticing his panic, you closed the distance between the two of you and placed your hands on either side of his face. You used your thumbs to gently wipe away the stray tears that fell from his eyes. 

“No, no, J, this is not your fault. You didn’t know.”

“I should have known. I should have just asked you why you didn’t ever swim with us. Lord knows I’ve bothered you enough times about going with me,” he dropped his head again, feeling defeated. You gently pushed his face back up, forcing him to meet your eyeline. 

“You had no way of knowing,” you reassured him, smiling a little. You stroked your thumb across his cheekbone and felt him lean into your touch. He closed his eyes tightly. 

“The thought of losing you…” he sucks in a jagged breath. He won’t let the thought go. He can’t. The images of your lifeless body floating in the water, replaying over and over again like a bad movie montage. “I was the one who pulled you out of the water. You weren’t breathing, and I-” 

You quickly pulled JJ’s face down to yours, connecting your lips gently. You couldn’t think of a better way to ground him. To keep him from spiraling again. He was stiff for only a second, his brain not catching up to what you were doing. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this. 

Then his face pressed closer to yours, his lips pushing deeper into the kiss. You smiled into him. JJ’s hand moved to your hips, and he squeezed gently. Your hands slid down to his neck, and you pulled back, seeing JJ's toothy grin. His eyes were still red and puffy, but he was smiling. He was downright giddy, swimming in a wide range of emotions he didn’t understand. But you grounded him.

You were his anchor. 

“Would now be a bad time to ask if you wanted to go surfing with me tomorrow?” He asked, teasing. You smacked him on the chest and let out a genuine laugh. JJ pulled you into a tight hug. One that told you he was never letting you go. 

From the shore, you could hear the Pogues hooting and hollering, witnessing your very public display of affection. But you didn’t care. Nothing mattered now except the sweet, broken boy before you. Your entire world.

Your anchor. 

“Why don’t we go ahead and give them a real show,” JJ whispered in your ear. You squealed as he started to pepper your face with kisses.

Taglist: @pogueslandia @milkiane @bjrmaybank @strnqer

Masterlist

A/N: I desperately needed to write something happy after watching season 4 <3 This is unedited, so please ignore any typos or stupid grammatical errors.

Likes, reblogs, and follows are never expected, but greatly appreciated! These let me know I should keep on doing what I’m doing! (:

Please check out this post for useful mental health resources.

[blade-liger-4ever]

Why I think Miko Nakadai is arguably the best human character in TFP

Don't misunderstand, I know Miko was handled haphazardly throughout the series' run. That said, aside from her skipping off into the battlefield, she was actually a great character - and, in my personal opinion, the actual audience surrogate character in TFP.

Now, let me explain.

Although Miko's backstory is told and not shown - a rich daughter who had everything she could ever want, up to and including two pure-breed cats and piano lessons from age three onwards (which, coincidentally, tells us she's brainy despite her antics) - much can be inferred from what snippets of her past we get, along with her interactions with the Autobots. For one, she obviously can't stand most adult supervision, which is likely because of a few things. For one, back home in Japan, Miko would have had to be proper and polite, always restrained, and had to do what she was told. While this is normal (to an extent) in the West, in the East this is etiquette that needs to be obeyed, especially if you're as well off as she is; her actions, specifically in Japan, will reflect on her parents, but to a far lesser extent in America. Thus, when presented with the freedoms of the USA, Miko not only jumps at the chance for an exchange program that will give her the mobility she craves, she also chooses the place that has the least amount of glamor. By extension of choosing to settle in Jasper, Miko's also displaying two other traits: she's not afraid of going to a place vastly different from her home, and she isn't disgusted by a small town with very little monetary value to it.

Secondly, Miko's disregard for authority from adults but deference to the 'Bots teases us with an insecurity - namely, an insecurity that no adult ever gives her a chance to make her own decisions.

Just think about it: All the times Miko's blown off the human adults, it's when they've tried to decide her life for her. Miko has, from what we can see, had her whole life dictated, up to and including those piano lessons. She may be a prodigy at almost everything, but her preferred instrument is the guitar - and yet, she wasn't given lessons in that from the time she was a toddler. Therefore, she feels confined and controlled by the authority of her elders. And so, while Miko may be able to sway Bulkhead into getting her out of detention and consistently slip past the watchful eyes of the 'Bots, it's out of a desperate motivation to control her own life. Now, she does hold too much interest in the battles and getting to watch them, but wouldn't you have that same eagerness if Gundams or Jaegers came to life before your eyes? Yes, she knows their lives are in danger, that they couldn't come home, but there's still a fantastical element to all of this about the Autobots. And it remains so because while she loves them all, Bulkhead is the only one who, while giving her life advice and trying to keep her in check/alive, lets her make her own decisions and take control of her life and her actions.

And that's why she keeps going to the field. That's why she only listens to the reprimands with half an ear and why she recovers so fast from Optimus' near death experiences, as well as Raf's close call with death.

And that's why Miko's world shatters when Bulkhead is left in a half-dead coma from his fight with Hardshell. Because the one person in the universe who gave her freedom and care without deciding her life for her was not just seriously injured, but possibly on death's door.

That's why Miko runs around without a care until the S2 episode "Hurt": because she wants autonomy to decide her life, even if it's stupid choices that could get her killed.

And after "Hurt", we see a new Miko. Yes, she remains gung-ho and fierce, but she stops running onto the battlefield. She takes less enjoyment from the War. Because now, with the reality of war fresh in her mind, she knows the risks and the stakes involved, and she will never take that or her friends for granted anymore. This is further proved when Miko 'sneaks' along for "Chain of Command", but with a twist: she asks Wheeljack if she can come along - and if memory serves, this is the first mission Bulkhead's been on with herself present since the events before "Hurt". Clearly, Miko is still worried about losing Bulkhead - only, this time, she values the words of the 'Bots, and now seeks permission to join a mission, though she wisely asks Wheeljack for this blessing.

This is the beautiful part of her arc, crowned by her battle with Starscream and his Seekers (which is also just straight up awesome.) When she's kicked the afts of everyone, and Starscream tries to intimidate her with his usual "I killed Cliffjumper" speech, Miko's response is this calm, slightly rough, retort:

"Big whoop. I snuffed Hardshell."

In this moment, Miko Nakadai is shown to have grown from an excitable child into an unyielding, but mature, adult warrior. She no longer treats the War and the 'Bots like a game, or a release. She treats them as her friends who she will gladly risk her own life for.

And that, in my opinion, makes her the best human protagonist in all of Transformers: Prime, and Transformers media in general.

As for what I said earlier about her being the true audience surrogate, be honest with yourselves: If any of us were given the chance to meet the Autobots, wouldn't you be just as irrepressible as Miko, as eager to help as she was, and tempted to go to the battlefield to see the action/make sure your 'Bot wasn't going to die? That's what I mean when I say she's the audience surrogate - Miko acts like we would, and learns as we would about the War and the 'Bots if we suddenly came across them.

That's my two cents on Miko, and why she's the human character I respect the most in Transformers...probably of all time. If you liked it, I'm glad; Miko deserves better, and I hope I explained why well.

Til next time, folks!

"Autobots, transform!"