#some people are my mutuals but none of them have ever tagged me in a personal post

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Hey guys, just because my usernames pops up as an option doesn’t mean I’m your mutual, and since I’m not your mutuals I’m just some random guy, don’t tag me in your personal posts

[melancoley]

WHAT MOVES THE WORLD

SYNOPSIS: when you’re born into a burning house, you think the entire world is on fire – that was kakashi’s reality. always surrounded by fragments of war, kakashi grew up with only the purpose of surviving beating in his heart. for him, nothing else existed in the world but war – that was kakashi’s philosophy. until you showed up. and, like spring, you came with the promise of hope and warmth and ended up bringing an inevitable change that would forever alter the life, and heart, of hatake kakashi.

PAIRING: hatake kakashi x gn!reader WORD COUNT: 5.811.

TAGS: soulmate!au, strangers to lover(s), fast-paced, unrequited love, kinda miscommunication. angst, fluff, hurt/no-comfort. CONTENT: gloomy kid kakashi. confused young-adult kakashi. heartbroken adult kakashi. shinobi reader. you are full of life & love talking to kakashi. conversations about stars, wars & love. he is the captain of your team one time.

WARNINGS: mention of sakumo's death but nothing explicit. you are going to break kakashi's heart, so be ready.

COLE'S NOTE: hiii, miss me? ♡ so !! this fic was originally a request and i posted this on my previous blog - if it sounds familiar, maybe u read the old version: ‘war & love’. i did some changes here and there to turn ur reading more pleasant and i hope i did a good job lol also !!! chou made one fanart based on this fic - i suggest u check it out after reading this, it's really pretty, u gonna love it !! ♡ have fun breaking hearts ♡

Not all stories are happy.

Not all soulmates are reciprocal.

Not all people could change their destiny.

Of course, in a perfect world, one person’s soulmate would also be another person’s soulmate. But reality went far beyond fairy tales and, as such, not all soulmates were mutual – and a person only knew their destiny when it was too late.

For years, people woke up with words tattooed on their wrists. They were simple, small words, just for the purpose of summarizing people’s love lives with their true love.

There were the luckier ones who woke up with little ‘fulfilled’ or ‘happily ever after’ on their wrists after their wedding. There were also those who had little ‘close call’ or ‘don’t try again’ written on their wrists on the coldest nights. And there were also those that read painfully ‘not destined’ or even ‘maybe in a next life’ that caused an inexplicable burning in the eyes of those who received such words. There were those who liked it, there were those who didn’t mind a mere tattoo and there were also those who did everything to force a soulmate into their lives.

The reality is that a person’s tattoo was already inscribed on them from the moment their soul found a body, always wanting to arrive at the right time to make itself noticed. And that was why no one could change their destiny.

But none of that matter. None of that mattered one bit to Kakashi. Because he only had one thing in mind: becoming strong and reliable. Kakashi didn’t care about dating or romance. Kakashi just wanted to do his duty as a shinobi.

But, of course, no matter how much he didn’t want to know, no matter how much he showed he didn’t want to know, his father was always attentive to him, always wanting to make him even minimally interested in the subject. After all, parents only wanted the best for their children.

And that was why Sakumo forced Kakashi to sit next to him on that cold, foggy morning.

“Kakashi, there is beauty in the midst of all this chaos.”

Sakumo’s voice was lost amid the fog, a phrase of pure harmony and delicacy trying to find its way in the thick maze of clouds and trees that invaded the territory.

There was a pause.

Kakashi didn’t deign to respond – he knew perfectly well where this conversation would end, he knew perfectly well what awaited him.

“The world is not driven by war alone.”

“Dad…”

Kakashi let a long and monotonous sigh escape his small lips, muffled by the dark mask, trapped inside the fabric without being able to show his total dissatisfaction.

“Not again. I have class in a bit.”

Kakashi stood up carefully and a little hesitantly. The truth is he didn’t want to leave his father alone. Kakashi didn’t want to abandon him once again at the mercy of fairy tales that did nothing but deceive a person.

However, Sakumo gave him no other choice. The cheap repetition of stories and princesses and kings became tiring – there was no longer any surprise in his father’s speech, there was no longer any hope for Kakashi.

As such, he was determined to abandon his father sooner than expected, his little feet taking short, uncertain steps to get away from his father, to get away from yet another unwanted conversation.

“Kakashi, why do you think there is war?”

Kakashi stopped his step with some abruptness.

That simple question from Sakumo echoed strongly inside Kakashi’s head, causing small dizziness in his mind where several possible answers appeared without any invitation, assaulting the little child’s sanity, making him question everything.

Why does war exist?

Of course, the main answer focused on people’s inability to be able to communicate with each other. There was also that need to come out and show their disgusting egos – that is the second answer to that question.

But there was something more.

There had to be something more.

People didn’t start wars just because they were bored.

…

Right?

Throughout his small and short existence, Kakashi has lived in a world of war and from an early age he was trained and taught to live and survive amidst so much devastation and anguish. Kakashi’s entire existence was shaped around the thick and aggressive sphere of what moved the world – war.

Would he have to know why?

In reality, Kakashi didn’t care if someone wanted to conquer the world, or if someone was kidnapped or killed unleashing days and months and years of pure destruction. Kakashi only had the mission to fight the war – that was all that mattered. Now the reason?

“I don’t care. Certainly the origin of all wars has an illogical basis. I have to stop the war. I don’t need to know why it started.”

Sakumo smiled and let his son go on his way, slowly losing sight of him as he began to be consumed by the fog.

Sakumo’s lips formed a perfect smile, a smile that left a trail of sadness with it because he knew perfectly well what was going to happen that day – Sakumo couldn’t really smile, not when he knew the end was near.

But there was something else hidden in his smile.

No matter how loud the voices screamed in his mind, the reality was that Sakumo feared for his son. Sakumo feared that Kakashi would never experience the beautiful pleasures of love as he himself had once experienced.

And there was nothing to do. There was nothing to do when Kakashi only focused on the human intellect. There was nothing to do when Kakashi purposely denied all the emotions that moved the world. There was simply nothing to do.

And Sakumo kept smiling.

His cold fingers gently stroked a small ‘there will be more in the next life’ that was fading due to the passage of time.

Several memories of a short and intense love began to haunt him in such a way that Sakumo didn’t even notice when the sadness on his lips turned into hope.

That hadn’t been the last life with his beloved – Sakumo knew that.

Then, muttering the answer to the question he himself asked his son, Sakumo stood up as well.

He knew perfectly well that there would be a second chance for his love. He knew perfectly well that Kakashi would realize the reality of the world they lived in. He knew perfectly well that everything would end well.

After all, there has never been a war without love.

Kakashi had lost everything.

There was nothing left for someone so young.

At fourteen, Kakashi’s entire life fell apart before his own eyes. Without family or friends, without anyone who could support him, he had lost everything – including his way in this world. Kakashi was wandering through the days, lost on the path of life, with no knowledge of maps or no guides that could help him.

Kakashi had lost everything, until he gained a new friendship, a new hope.

You appeared with the arrival of spring. Uncertain and always encouraging steps, an enormous desire for knowledge to be noticed in the intense shine of your sweet eyes, and wide smiles enchanting anyone.

You brought with you the breath of fresh air that prevailed at that time of year. Your feet encouraged so many beautiful flowers to bloom, new lives were created by you, new paths were drawn by your bare feet. The innocence of someone who had not yet experienced the evils of the world painted your smile with an extra tenderness that gave your cheekbones small splashes of the passion that the sun felt for you.

That spring day, when Kakashi saw you leaning over a hollow log, you carried something more than pure curiosity and amusement in your fingertips. You brought with you the hope of a new life for Kakashi, a hope that was felt by him when he, very clumsily, stopped you from rolling with the log to the bottom of the cliff.

Quickly, like someone blowing a leaf, something formed between you. A friendship? Probably. It was hard to be sure with Kakashi. But whatever you and he shared, you both knew it was something unique, something true.

A new stage in both of your lives was discovered in the other’s presence, a vast and longing wave of feelings beginning to form in you.

There was complicity between the both of you.

Since your first meeting next to that log, you and Kakashi shared an enviable complicity. Each one understood the other without the need to exchange words. A simple look, a simple sign, was enough for one to be understood by the other.

Days were spent together. Little secrets were exchanged amidst laughter and sighs, two distinct lives were soaked in pure melancholy, drenched in an extreme longing for a long-lost past.

And your adolescence has never looked so beautiful in the eyes of others.

Before you knew it, you and Kakashi have reached adulthood. And what used to be so simple and natural now seemed complicated with so many glances and hidden smiles and that hint of desire that clung to every word you exchanged.

Quickly, like someone forming a smile, beyond that very natural friendship, something more emerged between you. Something deeper began to emerge between the two of you.

“I don’t understand people’s admiration for the stars.”

You stretched a little as you sat next to Kakashi, the red blanket you always carried protecting you from the cold wind of that autumn night. “It’s something that has existed since the beginning of time. There are maps and photographs of them everywhere. Why the fascination?”

“It’s like war.”

The rest of your team rested silently on the ground, wrapped and cozy by a small fire starting by you, the tranquility of a successful mission being noted by their deep and steady breaths.

You and Kakashi were relaxing on one of the many branches of the most colorful and sturdy tree near your camp, your vision completely focused on the vast starry sky and the faint line of the horizon painted by the small mountains covered in snow.

There was silence on the ground and there was silence in the tree branches.

The breeze had been encouraged by several clouds venturing along unknown paths, giving you a little privacy on that very welcoming night. The moon was small, gaining strength for a more special date, slowly feeding on the desire of the most melancholy people who wrote to her. Every animal in the forest slept near you, the heat of the fire that crackled so loudly convincing the most diverse living beings to truly rest that night – except you and Kakashi.

“The war?”

You couldn’t contain the laughter that formed inside you, a sound so melodious and innocent that it woke up nature itself for a brief moment. The breeze had returned to you only to take with it the pure sound you released, keeping among the various clouds and stars the memory of your innocent question and laugh.

“How does the fascination of the stars compare to the war?”

“Humans can’t live without them.”

Kakashi was leaning against the trunk reading one of his typical books. None of his words were of the slightest interest. His uncovered eye cautiously read each line of the book. And he just waited for an answer. He waited for your curiosity. He waited for you.

“My dear Kakashi, I live well without both. Does that make me non-human?”

Kakashi let a long, amused sigh escape his lips and grab the echo of your new laugh. By closing the book and adopting a posture more favorable to a conversation, Kakashi let his movements continue over time.

The relaxing crackle of the fire calmly accompanied your team captain’s gestures as you fixed your eyes on Kakashi in the vain hope of encouraging him to speak or, at the very least, to hurry up.

However, there was no rush in Kakashi’s movements – all the time he took to sit next to you and stare at the stars seemed like an eternity to you.

But finally, Kakashi spoke.

“Of course you live well without both. But would you be the same person you are if they didn’t exist? Would you be complete if they didn’t exist?”

“Are you insinuating that we humans need to have stars and wars to be real?”

It seemed like an outrage. What Kakashi had just insinuated to you seemed to be wrapped in a thick layer of blasphemy and nonsense. The indignation at those words was reflected in the way you looked at the various leaves that framed Kakashi in an ethereal casing of change.

What was once a peaceful setting has now become a stage for nature. Strong winds and thick clouds slowly began to appear, hoping they could continue listening to Kakashi’s thoughts. Small nocturnal birds greeted you shyly with sweet and tender melodies that spread through the sleeping forest and made you smile.

“It’s what moves us.”

“I’m sorry,” you let out a fake laugh as you composed yourself on the tree branch.

You turned to Kakashi and focused your attention on his relaxed posture. Curiosity was caught in your eyes, and an eagerness to prolong that conversation could be seen in the way you so firmly and enthusiastically pronounced the words. “But I still don’t follow your reasoning.”

“A’right, let’s go step by step.”

“Please.”

Kakashi let out a small, almost inaudible laugh at your tender plea.

His eyes were now resting on your very curious posture: your arms adjusted the red blanket to also shelter Kakashi on that cold night; your eyes sparkled with the enthusiasm of yet another conversation with your best friend; your smile warmed Kakashi more than any blanket or fire could do.

“The stars, yea? We all know that since ancient times they have been the cause of all happiness and pain for people. People in ancient civilizations worshiped the stars as gods and saw in them countless stories and life lessons. And the very own people of those civilizations used the stars and their positions for agriculture and to make decisions. Are you following?”

“Yes, professor.”

You let out another laugh as you placed your legs over Kakashi’s and gently slid closer to him. The night was getting cold, the fire was on the ground and all you had was a red blanket and Kakashi.

And how he thanked all the gods for wearing a mask and for the moon being lazy that night. For, the pink tone he quickly adopted when he felt you so close to him only revealed how much he was waiting for that action of yours.

“So…”

A brief moment of silence followed after Kakashi’s statement.

Your captain’s reasoning was lost with your innocent act. It was a simple, affectionate gesture, something that had been repeated so many times. And, like every other time, Kakashi simply lost any coordination – the feeling of having you so close to him was fantastic, almost magical.

Thus, a brief moment of silence followed as Kakashi tried to find the thread of his thought, as Kakashi tried to grasp that thread without losing the very welcoming feeling of having you close to him.

“So,” he repeated again, his posture always relaxed and carefree, the mask being the perfect hiding place for his rosy face. “People adopted these little habits from their ancestors and that’s why there are so many people who still marvel at the stars. Of course, all romantics are also enchanted by them.”

“Why?”

Pause. Silence. Contemplation.

Why? In fact, that was always the question you asked. That was always the question that made sense to ask. Indeed, why?

Kakashi stared at the stars, trying to understand why. You stared at Kakashi, waiting for him to answer why.

But the answer never came. The answer never showed up and beautified your ears with sweet justifications and immaculate logic. For, realizing that there really wasn’t a defined reason for that question, Kakashi continued his reasoning.

Your captain’s voice was drawn out and always monotonous as if it were perpetually stuck in a timbre that conveyed a vast sense of comfort.

And you listened carefully to every word Kakashi said. You listened attentively to everything he had to say, always trying hard to follow his thoughts.

“Now the war.”

Kakashi paused briefly and took a deep breath.

A sigh that seemed to be filled with tiredness escaped his lips without realizing it – the memories of conversations he had with his father were felt at that exact moment. And they weighed. They weighed so much.

“War has always existed. Since the beginning of humanity there has been war. No wars, no humans. It is in our condition as human beings – it is our need. We crave destruction. We seek chaos. It’s in us. We need war to move us. Because, quite simply, we are the war. Without it, what would we do? Who would we be? That’s why there is fascination with it. That’s why there’s so much admiration. War is the stars of the most political. And the stars are the war of the most romantic.”

“So, by that logic, love is the war of the most philosophical.”

Kakashi looked at you with confusion expressed in his eye. The various and infinite stars reflected in Kakashi’s gaze showed that, in fact, he had not understood the use of your words.

Why did you decide to grab love out of nowhere?

Why did you decide to bring that taboo into the middle of a conversation that was so special to both of you?

Why?

You noticed the confusion in Kakashi’s lack of reaction. You realized that there must be doubt in your captain’s thoughts. Looking at Kakashi, it was easy to decipher the confusion he felt and you were intrigued, fascinated even.

“Do you really think that it is only war that moves the world?”

Kakashi opened his mouth but you didn’t know.

Kakashi closed his mouth again and you didn’t even notice.

In your captain’s mind, that last conversation he had with his father began to replay endlessly. Sakumo’s words came up whenever that dangerous topic was brought up – it seemed that Sakumo’s cheap philosophies tormented Kakashi until that day.

But it wasn’t always like that – no.

From the moment Kakashi met you, Sakumo’s haunting finally ceased.

There was no need to understand love because, quite simply, and even though he didn’t know it, Kakashi was experiencing that feeling so strong, so true. There was no need to recall a conversation that tried to explain something he was feeling, even though he couldn’t decipher that specific something.

Therefore, for several years, Sakumo’s words that were imbued with understanding and affection had been forgotten, completely erased from Kakashi’s memory.

No. Wrong. The words were still there, safe, inside Kakashi’s heart.

And it only took your question, your question so similar to Sakumo’s question, to free the words and torment Kakashi again.

“Kashi?”

You let out a laugh.

Kakashi certainly knew there was something more than war. He positively knew that not everything was destruction or contempt in this world. He had to know there was beauty and hope. He had to know that there was something good in this world. Kakashi had to know all this – right?

“Love?”

The word burned in Kakashi’s mouth, his melancholic eye locked in your eyes, the reflection of the universe trapped in your fingertips.

“Love.”

Your response came with a real, genuine smile. Your eyes showed a light and tenuous sadness while a tiny hope threatened to collapse at any moment.

You spoke like love itself. Delicate and light, your lips pronounced that word with precision and extreme ease.

You spoke like love itself. Your smile was genuine and embellished by the infinite stars, painted by the cool night breeze. Your eyes were sad, scared and fearful of the drastic change of an event, of a feeling.

You spoke like love itself. You spoke in a mix of emotions that were foreign to Kakashi, a thick ball of feelings and memories was trapped in your expression and made Kakashi feel confused.

You spoke like love itself, but Kakashi could only speak like war.

Kakashi spoke like war itself. Without any feeling, afraid of what his lips could utter, scared of the strength of the word itself.

Kakashi spoke like war itself. His every word and thought was completely calculated by him, no mistake to be uttered by Kakashi, the doubt that escaped his lips bringing a bit of wisdom.

Kakashi spoke like war itself. Kakashi spoke knowing perfectly well what awaited him, he spoke knowing perfectly well the answer to his question.

And between war and love there was a brief moment of silence. A moment of tranquility brought by the infinite stars.

Between war and love there was a moment of serenity that was heard only by your careful breathing, your gaze locked on each other, your smile slowly fading as time passed.

Love.

Was that the answer to his father’s question? No. It couldn’t be something so simple like that – but there was no such thing as simplicity in love.

“Love.”

Kakashi said his statement again, allowing a fragile and invisible line to escape his mask and take with it the bruning of that word.

There was something comforting in your gaze, something soothing in the way you held the blanket tight to you. There was something serene in the way you rested your legs on Kakashi’s, something welcoming in the way you and him stood together under that starry sky.

“Love” – Kakashi never found it easier to pronounce that word.

Days without you were boring.

Everyone knew that whenever you were on a mission without being on Kakashi’s team, he would roam the streets of the village like he used to do before he met you. Everyone knew that, for Kakashi, days without you simply didn’t make sense, not when you and he had already become fully accustomed to each other’s presence.

And that day wasn’t much different from the others.

Kakashi walked through the streets calmly. His feet shuffled without any energy, one of his hands sheltered in his pants pocket, the other holding a book close to his face.

Kakashi didn’t pay attention to what he was reading or where he was walking. Having already read and reread that book so many times, having already walked those streets countless times, Kakashi didn’t need to pay attention – because something else occupied his mind.

Your mission was somewhat complicated and you left with a good team, yes. But Kakashi couldn’t trust them, not when your integrity could be at risk – Kakashi could only worry about you.

A melancholy trail was left by Kakashi’s short and relaxed steps.

His eyes read and reread the same page over and over as his mind wandered to so many possible scenarios that could happen to you.

How he hated being away from you at a scary time like that.

Kakashi had been your team captain enough times for him to know you knew how to take care of yourself. But you were also distracted and that was what bothered Kakashi. A distraction from you, an ambush from them, a misfortune from the universe – everything seemed plausible when he was away from you.

He just wanted to be with you, to hear from you, to know that you were okay. He had to be with you.

But regardless of whether or not you managed to get home safe and sound, Kakashi spent his days monotonously without you by his side.

Even though Guy continued to make his occasional appearances, enticing Kakashi into meaningless duels; even though Naruto and Sakura could fill a fragment of the void you created; even though he knew you would be back next week, the reality is that Kakashi simply couldn’t live the days in your absence.

Not since that night under the starry sky. Not when the confession of a love came out disguised in a novice and somewhat shaky pronunciation.

What could Kakashi do? Just wandering around the village without your company. Just wishing every day was shorter than the last. Just peacefully wait for your arrival.

“Today I received my words!”

Naruto was always so loud.

Kakashi lazily looked up from his book and watched Naruto talk excitedly to Sakura and Shikamaru. The smiles they shared with each other were big, contagious, as if enticing Kakashi to also let out a small smile.

“Hinata is my soulmate!”

“I got mine during the war. It was Ino who noticed,” Sakura let out a small laugh as she recalled her chaotic reactions when she discovered that Sasuke was, in fact, the man the universe had destined for her. “What about you, Shikamaru?”

“Nothin’.”

A small sigh escaped Shikamaru’s lips and brought with it the hope of not having to worry about a soulmate anytime soon.

“What about you, Kakashi-sensei?”

“I don’t pay attention to that.”

A shrug was enough to direct the conversation back to Shikamaru.

But Kakashi kept thinking. Without realizing it, all the younger’s’ speeches were obstructed with the thought that, perhaps, Kakashi had already received his words.

It was true that Kakashi avoided looking at his wrist – since that night, the mere thought of love scared him.

Once, Kakashi simply didn’t care about something as trivial as love. The mere thought of such a feeling brought only haunting of long, uninteresting conversations with his father. But now, after that night, there was fear in the feeling. There was an extra fear that burned in Kakashi’s heart when he allowed himself the luxury of thinking about something as dangerous as love.

Ever since that night, the mere thought of love scared Kakashi because, quite simply, Kakashi couldn’t imagine that word without picturing you.

And Kakashi blamed you. Yes, you. You were the bringer of Kakashi’s destruction. Because, since that night, Kakashi really started to see the world differently. And he blamed you. He blamed that word. He blamed all the stars.

But had any mark already been engraved on his wrist?

Leaving conversations and laughter behind, Kakashi returned home.

A single goal was stuck in his mind. A single need ran through his heart. A single feeling moved Kakashi. Love.

The four walls of Kakashi’s room had never felt as cozy as they did at that moment.

It was the end of the day.

The last rays of sunlight were lost in Kakashi’s room. Shades of gold and hope burned fiercely in the three frames that rested delicately on his little furniture. Your face and Kakashi’s were adorned with light celestial tones from the last ray of sunlight, enhancing the joy and comfort that that photograph brought to Kakashi.

Night fell so quickly that it didn’t even give the sun a chance to warm Kakashi’s room.

It was cold.

The proud and bright moon contrasted with the weakness of that night, the stars taking the night off to give the various and diverse clouds their turn to shine.

There was darkness and there was cold.

In the midst of that discomfort, Kakashi looked for some warmth in his wrists.

His right wrist had nothing on it – the pale skin brought a bit of disappointment to him.

But there was still hope. There was still a second chance.

Cautiously taking off his left glove, Kakashi saw a single word shining in the moonlight.

‘Almost’.

Almost?

Kakashi’s mouth opened slightly on impulse as his eyes repeatedly read and reread that single word that was carved into his wrist.

How long had it been there? How long ago did fate decide to steal you from him? Almost? Why ‘almost’? Hadn’t his confession that night been enough for you? Wouldn’t the vulnerability with which he uttered and repeated that forbidden word have been enough for both of you? Almost. Almost? Why? Could he have done something? Could he have done nothing?

A wave of corruption completely washed away any and all hope Kakashi might have had. The curiosity that once drove Kakashi’s gestures was entirely replaced by regret and frustration.

Could he go back? Could he do something to change that word?

Surely if you arrived and he confessed everything he wanted and felt for you, maybe you would reciprocate his words.

No. Not ‘maybe’. Kakashi was sure there was reciprocity. That night left no doubt. The way you two spoke, the way you looked at each other, the way you pronounced the forbidden word.

Yes. There was definitely still a little hope, even if it was small. And Kakashi knew, as years of war had taught him, that hope would always be the last to die. Surely the same applied to love. Right? – you said it yourself: love is the war of the most philosophical.

Yes. Hope.

‘Almost’ wasn’t the word Kakashi had chosen to dictate his fate, no. It was ‘hope’.

 Clinging to that small flame that had quickly lit in Kakashi’s heart, he watched the remaining days pass slowly and wistfully.

Kakashi just wanted you to come back as soon as possible. He just wanted to cheat fate once and for all and grab the happiness he had been so deprived of. Would it be too much to ask?

‘Almost’. Pathetic.

‘Almost’. Of course it wasn’t almost – Kakashi would never allow it to be ‘almost’.

And when you arrived, Kakashi carried the war with him – he was determined to change his destiny, even though he was scared. There was determination in his steps, Kakashi’s eyes so empty conveying a bit of uncertainty, of fear, of regret in actions he should have done long ago.

Waiting for you for so long only gave Kakashi permission to think, to ponder all the opportunities that were missed by him in fear of a confession made of decent words – he could make a list of all the waste that was lost.

The ‘almost’ was right.

Years passed – Kakashi should have known better. He had so many books about it, he should have known better. It wasn’t enough to just say a complicated word. It was not enough to just feel a complex feeling. Kakashi had to show – and Kakashi never showed.

But now Kakashi was determined to change that. Kakashi was determined to change his destiny.

Just like war, Kakashi came to you without any warning.

Just like war, Kakashi caught you unnoticed in a spontaneous embrace of longing and nostalgia. It was rare for Kakashi to express his love, but you couldn’t deny that it was something that always made you smile.

You hugged Kakashi back, your arms fitting perfectly around his body, the way his strong arms squeezed you in a comforting embrace making you more relaxed. Although you had already arrived at the village two days ago, it was at that moment that you truly felt at home.

“How’s the mission?”

That wasn’t the question Kakashi wanted to ask – it wasn’t what he had rehearsed.

But you started a long, drawn-out monologue about all the ups and downs of that mission that lasted almost two weeks. A rollercoaster of emotions was reported by you as Kakashi listened attentively to every word out of your mouth.

And, while he listened to you, he looked intently at your arms.

Kakashi’s empty eyes searched for tattoos made by the stars. The curiosity to know your fate was what moved Kakashi’s eyes and forced him to look at your body.

Until finally he saw it.

‘It was close’.

It was close?

What absurd words had fate given you? It didn’t make sense.

Was it close that you didn’t end up with Kakashi? Was it close that you fell into someone else’s love trap? What did those words mean? What did they mean in a vast sea of ​​possibilities?

“And I got my tattoo on the way here.”

You extended your arm and gave Kakashi permission to read your mark better.

‘It was close’.

“I was confused by what it meant. But it made sense when I found…”

“Him?”

Him.

Kakashi knew who you were talking about.

You didn’t need to confess names or draw portraits with your words. Kakashi always knew who you were talking about, because he was the one you loved before you met Kakashi, and he was the one you loved during the early days of your friendship with Kakashi.

“Yea.”

The smile you let out reminded Kakashi of love: shy and so happy, a hint of accomplishment displayed in the beautiful curves of your lips, a sense of comfort trapped in your confession.

Love.

Damn you.

“He walk with me to the village and is staying here. Today we’re going to our first date.”

And that’s when Kakashi realized – no one could change their destiny.

With a fake smile and forced curiosity, Kakashi allowed you to nail long, painful barbs into his heart, erasing any hope he still had left, completely staining the forbidden word for Kakashi.

With a fake smile and tears trapped in his eyes, Kakashi allowed your happiness to flood his darkness, little stars of your joy faintly painting Kakashi’s pain.

Because, yes. Despite everything, Kakashi was happy.

Even though he would be happier with you, Kakashi was happy for you.

You overflowed with love.

Extreme happiness wrapped in a film of euphoria delicately filled your room. Your eyes shone with the emotion of a love about to be lived. Your wide smile managed to be contagious, even though Kakashi didn’t want to smile.

You were the embodiment of love.

You were hope and comfort from the first day he met you and he hated you for it.

Kakashi hated you because he knew he would never be able to find someone who had as much of an impact as you did. He would never be able to find someone who made the word ‘love’ mean as much as you did.

It was the way you spoke so happily about each other. It was the way you still cared about Kakashi like you still liked him. It was your own way of being.

You were kindness and simplicity hidden behind a strong sphere of complexity.

You were, undeniably, love.

And the conversation that night never made as much sense as it did at that moment.

In Kakashi’s realization, in the midst of all the suffering caused by you, you continued to move Kakashi. The way you still made Kakashi eager to see you. The way your company was still, and always would be, crucial to Kakashi. The way he still loved you after you caused him so much anguish.

You have always been the personification of the word love. And, just like the feeling itself, it was you who moved Kakashi’s world.

♡ feedback is always welcomed ♡

[qwardivior]

DEMON BUSTERS!! — About Nezuko

Next Part>>

<<Previous Part

And so, the long awaited Nezuko post has arrived!!! Sorry for the long wait everyone, I had to work out some lore stuff and this kept getting delayed, so let’s just get right into it! In case you don’t know or need a refresher, in this modern kny au the Demon Slayer Corps has updated and rebranded into the Demon Busters! People have been dying to demon attacks at alarming rates so to make their jobs easier they’ve been running ad campaigns! However this installment is a little different as this is NOT an ad campaign! To protect Nezuko they did not run an ad campaign on her. Instead, this is known as an ‘about’. Several other characters will be getting an about section but let’s start with our favorite girl Nezuko!

— Lore Dump Incoming!!—

In this au, Nezuko got turned on her birthday. It was supposed to be a fun celebration, she would spend the night at her friends’ house and then go home the next morning to help her family prepare for New Years. Of course when the day actually came, there were complications as Tanjirou would not let her go for whatever reason, stating that he had a “bad feeling” about it. But nothing ever happens in their small town! In fact, the biggest event in a long while was their father’s death a couple months prior. Eventually, after some back and forth they just chalked it up to him being paranoid and she was able to go.

It wasn’t just paranoia. Nobody knew that anything was wrong until the next morning. Tanjirou had gone to pick Nezuko up since nobody had heard anything from her, and was met with a gruesome sight. Just like in canon, Nezuko was the only survivor, but she seemed to be a little off… Firstly, she had tried to attack Tanjirou before quickly coming to her senses after a man called Giyuu Tomioka appeared, stating that he was a “Demon Buster” and she was a “demon” and that he had to slay her. And secondly she no longer had a taste for human food and just slept all the time! Luckily, nobody was slayed, and the siblings were instructed to find a man named Sakonji Urokodaki, Tomioka’s teacher. But they couldn’t just leave! Not after everything. So they came to an agreement: because Nezuko was able to quell her hunger and more or less function like a normal human, the two would go home for now, and then Tomioka would come to pick them up at a later date. As it turned out, in order for Nezuko to get her humanity back, she’d have to become a “Demon Buster”. A perfect way to bring in the new year..

In this au Nezuko keeps her humanity and is more of her own person. This makes it easier for her to get around and get info from other demons easier. She also conquers the sun slightly earlier, but we’ll get to that later. She wasn’t able to really show herself to her family that often until she was able to learn how to disguise herself from none other than Yushiro. Her having a sense of self and a personality separate to Tanjirou also allows for them to go their separate ways a bit more. Of course they stick together but it’s not like Nezuko is bound to the box. They have missions that sometimes requires Tanjirou to go completely solo, thus Nezuko is left to her own devices.

Overall, I really want to explore Nezuko’s character more and there’s so much more to her than what can be explained in a single post. I guess you’ll just have to tag along to find out more huh? This will also allow me to expand more on her relationship in regards to Zenitsu. In canon, it seemed a little one-sided since we weren’t able to get Nezuko’s point of view, but in this au I want to show more mutual interest so it doesn’t come off as weird as it did in canon. This also allows her to make her own friends (read: Muichirou, Senjurou, Genya, and more). Nezuko is a very fun character to explore in this au and I can’t wait to show you guys more!

Also did I mention that a lower moon is seeking to kill her? No? Oh, my bad.

———

Hey! Thanks for sticking around. Sorry this one took a while! After this we will most likely be getting Tamayo and Yushiro!! Inosuke and Kanao will have to wait a little bit longer because I still have to figure out things lore/design wise. As for Hashira, the next one will either be Giyuu or Shinobu! That’s all for now and thanks for all the support on this au!! Feel free to ask me about anything lore-related! I’ll see you in the next one!

[hansluvs]

close to you — itoshi s.

i burn for you, and you don't even know my name - in which you make your debut into the ton expecting to find true love, and instead catch the attention of piercing teal eyes belonging to the man you swore to never acquaint yourself with.

wc: 3.1k+ (ongoing)

tags: regency au, itoshi sae x f!reader, strangers to lovers, (eventual) mutual pining, slow burn, sae is a little shit in every universe i will die on this hill

notes: took me a few months to get back to this but here it finally is! very excited for this idea it's been fermenting in my brain for a while

masterlist | next part

Your mother was one of the kindest people you knew. 

Needing to raise a total of seven children, you’d think that even the effervescent Lady Nagi would have grown tired and snappish, rushing to marry off her daughters and son one by one until the house no longer had creaking floorboards from a dozen feet running over them, or relentless chatter and laughter echoing from the drawing room every morning. 

But instead, you and your siblings grew up never wanting to leave your home. Your sisters had all melted into your mother’s shoulder on the day of their betrothal, promises to visit every day accompanying soft sobs as your mother merely smiled and gave each one a kiss on the forehead, then proceeded to fuss over their white gowns and rouge coloured cheeks. 

One by one, until all that was left was you and your brother. 

With your current situation, however, it seems now that you most certainly will never leave your home, at all. 

“Maybe the callers are having a difficult time finding the estate?” 

You heave another sigh, sinking further into the plush blue cushions of the sofa. You almost wish you could fall into it and never be seen again. 

“My darling, please sit up,” you had half a mind to look up after hearing your mother’s pleading tone, but one glance at the clock above the fireplace has you in a dejected mood once more. “You’ll wrinkle your dress.” 

“It is already past noon, Mama. I do not believe any callers are to arrive anymore.” 

As you glance at your mother, you’re met with her knowing gray eyes, crinkled in what was supposed to be a comforting smile. But you knew that it pained her seeing you like this, especially the day after you'd attended your first ball. 

Where you had met one strange man with teal eyes and a knowing look.

The same look he wore when you had first seen him at the Queen Consort’s solstice dinner one summer ago, as he was heatedly locking lips with one of Lord Kunigami’s daughters behind one of the stone columns in the royal palace’s gallery— where you had been unfortunate enough to sneak away to the moment your mother’s attention had strayed from you.  

You can still remember the heaving of Miss Ada’s lace-covered chest, how she combed her fingers through the dark burgundy locks as she threw her head back, spilling profanities that you were certain her father would have her locked up in their estate for, had someone with a penchant for society gossip heard. 

But most of all, you could never forget how Itoshi Sae looked, with red-bitten lips and that piercing azure gaze. Almost as if he was taunting you from across the candlelit room, daring you to run and tell someone or worse– to come closer. 

The sound of several footsteps echoing in the hallway snaps you out of your daze as the pair of you turn to the front of the room, where your brother, Seishiro, and your childhood friend and neighbor Reo had made their entrance. 

Seishiro merely gives you a nod and half-heartedly hugs your mother, then heads straight to the sofa.  

Reo, ever the gentleman, greets her first a lovely afternoon followed by a kiss on the hand, then turns to you with a saccharine grin that, only with two decades of being his friend and knowing all of his sneaky little antics, tells you that there must be some kind of trouble lurking around the corner. However, none of that could have ever prepared you for the actual trouble awaiting; 

Until that trouble rounds the corner and enters the room in the form of Itoshi Sae. 

Your breathing all but stops as the enigma of a man you'd encountered only the night before now stands in the middle of your home; a place so different and much dearer to your heart compared to the vastness of the Isagi estate's ballroom.

Itoshi Sae wastes no time, and turns to address the lady of the house– your mother, with a bow. 

“Good afternoon, Lady Nagi. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, I am Itoshi Sae.” 

Your mother, the graceful woman that she is, doesn’t miss a beat and offers a curtsy in return. She flashes a gentle smile as she greets him. “Lord Sae, what a pleasure to have you in our home. Please, have a seat.”

You all take this as a signal to look for a spot on either of the two lounges or settees in the room, but are compelled to remain upright as your guest stays standing.

“Actually, my Lady, I have come to call on your daughter, if I may.” 

All eight pairs of eyes suddenly fell on you as the words had left Itoshi Sae’s lips.

You swear you could almost feel each of your family's emotions in the moment as you glanced from one set of eyes to another: Seishiro’s indifference. Reo’s surprise and immediate anticipation. Your mother’s hope, bubbling behind those silver eyes– but most surprisingly of all, the complete sincerity in Itoshi Sae's turquoise orbs.

It took you all of ten seconds to realize that they were actually waiting for you to respond.

“Oh! Well- well, of course!” you sputter, almost choking on your own spit. You clear your throat in a last attempt to desperately save your already shattered dignity and take in a deep breath. “It would be an honour, my Lord.” 

Reo all but drags Seishiro out of the drawing room when your mother leaves to call for the cooks to prepare an afternoon tea, and the housekeepers to tidy the room. Which technically left you alone, in the presence of Itoshi Sae, again. 

You were starting to believe that you were being punished by God for intruding on a pair of lovers, by sending one of them to intrude on your life in return. God must have a dismal sense of humor, you thought.

As if you hadn't been surprised more times in the past twenty minutes than you had your whole life, the man in front of you startles you once more.

“I apologise for coming late.” 

He turns to look at you when you remain silent, mouth twitching up in the slightest bit of amusement as he takes in sight of you, brows drawn together and lips pursed in confusion as you absorb his words. He takes this as a chance to keep talking. “I believe it is expected of callers to arrive in the morning.”

“Well, yes. They do, but I never expected you of all people to call on me,” you mutter, voiced laced with disbelief and ready to push on, before you remember who it is you were standing in front of. 

“...My Lord.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing! I simply forgot to call you that,” you trail off, feeling the awkwardness of the situation and almost wanting to slice it with the breadknife that one of the maids was arranging on the tea table. 

After a few moments of silence, with nothing but the tinkling of silverware and the scurrying of feet echoing around the room, you nearly jump out of your skin as Itoshi Sae clears his throat and starts heading for the doors, where your mother has made her reappearance. 

“My Lord, my sincerest apologies for the wait,” she smiles as she sees him approaching. “The chefs are preparing the pastries as we speak. Might there be something you’d like to request?”

“Yes," he nods.

"I’d like to take your daughter out on a promenade. I believe it’d be the best setting for us to get acquainted with one another.”

[transrightsyamaguchi]

blue lock fic rec list #1 (?)

i always liked when people made long masterlists of fic recs but i haven't seen anyone do it for blue lock yet. at least not recently. so in the spirit of Be The Change You Want To See In The World here's my list.

not in any particular order just going through my bookmarks lol.

sound of breaking down. chigiri-centric, 4k words, rated T.

“Is he dead?” “No, of course not.” A pause. “I hope not.” “Yo, Princess, are you alive in there?” The door rattles. OR Determined to prove himself, Chigiri disregards his health and deals with consequences. None of it is pretty. Set during the neo-Egoist league arc. it's a sickfic. it's a really good sickfic. it hits all the beats i like my sickfics to hit and then some. it's a genfic which is a major bonus. no romantic subplot just chigiri being vulnerable and getting taken care of. there's some sweet moments between him and chris prince that made me melt inside.

2. the rituals are intricate, bro. karasu/otoya, 2k words, rated E.

Otoya offers to groom the homie's wings. Things escalate in ways he did not expect. this is by one of my beloved mutuals but i'd still be recommending it even if it wasn't. great title. there's an "it's not gay with socks on" joke in there. there's the ever-present Otoya Eita Sexuality Crisis. the porn is less sexy and more funny (as tabieita deserves).

3. six facts about lobsters. bachira/isagi, 4k words, rated T.

What it says on the tin. (In fine print: six facts about you.) can't remember if ghost is on tumblr or not but this is another mutual fic. it's a take on the 5+1 format, tracking the bachisagi relationship through lobster facts. isagi's autism radiates through the text. it's so cute and so sweet and so very bachisagi essence. as expected of ao3 user smallghosts (<- the bachisagi essence writer)

4. counting crows on the windowsill. kaiser/ness, 18k words, rated M.

“How much,” you ask, “would you let me do to you?” The feeling of vibration on your fingers comes again, and he is thinking, or perhaps toying with you even more. Your grip tightens on his skin, and Alexis twitches slightly in the grasp. More than once have people told you to learn some patience. “You already know my answer.” “Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing it in your own words.” Inhale, exhale, and they all fall onto your skin. There is a chill in the room—it is rising up your arms, your neck—but the whole of you is hot. “If it’s you, I’d let you do anything.” Seven snapshots of life through the eyes of Michael Kaiser. this is a longer one but if you have time and you want to feel some Emotions read this one. nskins contain such multitudes and this author understands them so well.

5. shidou-ctionary. shidou/sae, 4k words, rated T.

Contemporary linguists agree that achieving proficiency in a new language requires between six months and four years of study. Itoshi Sae knows better. He has anecdotal evidence to suggest that a person can become fluent in a new language in as little as one week. A week of Shidou Ryuusei's attempts to ask Itoshi Sae on a date: a story in emojis. yet another mutual fic. i can't help it that my mutuals are all extremely talented and correct about everything. it's got some experimental formatting going on and (in my opinion) it looks best on desktop. ft. shidou being shidou and sae being smitten (in the emotionally constipated way that sae is smitten with shidou)

6. puppy love. kurona/kiyora, 9k words, rated G.

Jin doesn’t fight the small smile forming on his face. It’s been a long time since he meshed well with anyone. People tend to avoid him; he avoids them in turn. He stopped caring (or so he had told himself), but he doesn’t hate the weight around his shoulders—doesn’t mind it at all, really. He wraps his hand around Ranze’s wrist, and he laughs along with him. Kiyora Jin has a number of problems. A growing crush on Kurona Ranze is not supposed to be one of them. this was the inaugural fic in the ranjin tag and. not to pat myself on the back or anything. but i beta-read it hehe. another mutual fic. kiyora jin character study before kiyora jin was even a character, with an adorable little romantic subplot. somewhat negated by the Recent Developments in canon but it's still good!!

7. pink light. shidou/sae, 19k words, rated E.

Fifteen years ago, Shidou took a pass from Sae that shattered his knee and ended his career, and Sae hasn't been able to speak to him since - and Sae wants it to stay that way. Deserves for it to stay that way. Unfortunately, the world has other plans for him, courtesy of a little art studio a five minute walk from his new post-retirement apartment. this is not a mutual fic but i'm trying to change that. it's post-canon ryusae ft. cane user shidou (!!) and emotionally constipated sae learning how to live without soccer. not quite old man yaoi but it has the spirit of it.

8. year one. snuffy & lorenzo centric, 3k words, rated T.

"When's your birthday?" Snuffy asks him carefully, moving on to the next field. "Today," Don answers immediately. "Really?" Snuffy looks at him suspiciously. "No," Don replies without hesitation, turning back to a poster describing professional tooth brushing. Snuffy tries not to look at the tense faces of the receptionist and the surgeon peering out of the room. Snuffy's first year of parenthood. what is it about snuffy & lorenzo fics that just hit so different. i swear everyone who writes for them is a genius. this fic is short snapshots of snuffy and lorenzo navigating their newly-formed parent-child relationship and it's heartwrenching and heartwarming and poignant. this writer has a few snuffy & lorenzo fics and they're all wonderful. (she's also on tumblr and writes in-depth lorenzo meta so you Know she understands him)

9. pov: you just want the world to be quiet. itoshi brothers, 4k words, rated T.

his big brother and football have become the only hope to which rin can cling to dream of better days. without them, he only and just remains that little six-year-old boy destroyed by the senseless atrocities of evil hands. hesitated to include this one because the tags are scary but fuck it we ball i do what i want. it's a rewrite of rin's backstory with a darker spin on it and it follows rin and sae's relationship through that lens. as par for the course with pre-canon itoshi studies, it does not end happily. it's incredibly well-done and it will give you Feelings. (this is one of those cases where the author drops a life-changing bombshell of a fic on you and then you go to their profile and there's no bio. there's no public bookmarks. this is their only blue lock fic. they haven't posted anything in a year. who are they)

10. peak male living space. kunigami/chigiri, 3k words, rated E.

Raichi and Kunigami had met at university; playing on the football team, sharing many lectures, and living through the shitshow that was university halls together. It seemed only natural that they’d move in together, and it had been great for the past few of years… Until Kunigami’s new boyfriend asked why he never invited him over to his place, and he was forced to deal with the realisation that he and Raichi have the most boyish disaster of a flat. part of a series but it can stand alone. t4t kunigiri smut. kunigami and raichi are disaster roommates and bachisagi play wingmen. lionel messi makes a cameo in the form of a cardboard cutout. all the kunigiri fics in this series are good but this fic in particular is just so funny.

if you notice any ships or characters Conspicuously Absent it's because they were positively dominating this list at first so i'm planning to make a separate list for only them hehe

there are many more fics that made my soul ascend from my body so i might make another of these

[lemotmo]

I'm going to try and approach this a bit differently. We have all been in a position where we desperately wanted something from a show. We can all relate to the desire for something you love to become canon. I still fret about whether or not they'll actually give us Buddie. Yes it has been sign posted but it's been sign posted for years and we're still waiting. Anyway I say that part to say this next part. They are sign posted. The canon signs are there and there everywhere. None of it is made up from nothing. Yes there are headcanons but that's true of every ship. But most of the headcanons have canon scenes that they stem from. The BT stuff is all headcanon. I keep seeing gifs of Buck with gifs of Lou from other acting rolls and them being tagged as bucktommy. Those gifs have nothing to do with 911 and aren't Tommy. None of it is based on canon. It has all come from their cameo conversations with Lou. And that genuinely dumbfounds me. Because now I see less and less Buck and it's increasingly Tommy centered.

Buck is the character the show cares about and they know that. I don't know enough about the SWAT theory to speak to it's truth or not but the timing of its renewal and him going 911 dark does somewhat feed into the rumor. I don't know, it's bad enough so many of them have become horrible towards Eddie but now they're starting to change who Buck canonically is to fit their headcanons of Tommy (the whole damsel in distress nonsense enrages me). And while I understand the desire to push for what you love, basic knowledge of the show has to play into your expectations at some point. It will be interesting(terrifying) to see how they react when his arc finishes, and he himself stated it was an arc(hello people he said this) so I'm just forever dumbfounded as to how we got here and I'm someone who genuinely tried to see where they're coming from.

*sigh* sorry for the length of this ask. Your blog is lovely.

Yes Nonny. Yes! All of this! This has been on my mind for so long now and you managed to summarize it so beautifully.

I simply do not get how we got here. A couple of months ago, everything was great in this fandom. We had no great expectations of Buddie canon, but we were happy to be on ABC so we could maybe get some more Buddie scenes. And we did get them. Season 7 was great for Buddie.

Unfortunately it also brought along Tommy. I was and still am thrilled for Buck being revealed as being bisexual. It's wonderful! And the initial thrill of it was exciting. I immediately started tying this in to Eddie. A lot of us in the Buddie fandom have long since theorised that, as soon as one of them would come out, the other would follow because it would be the only thing to make sense. Buck and Eddie have both been queer-coded for so long now and finally we would see some movement in their story.

Imagine my surprise when suddenly some people decided that Tommy was the best thing that had ever happened to Buck. It was all Tommy this, Tommy that, Tommy with the sun shining out of his ***. I was so confused. Even some of my Buddie mutuals who I had known for years, just kind of gave up on Buddie and started worshipping at the altar of Tommy Kinard.

And the fact that Lou started spouting his headcanons in those cameos definitely didn't help either. Some people really believe in those headcanons.

And listen, nothing against headcanons. I have some of my own. But there is a reason why they are called 'head'canons. It's because they are things you see and recognise in a character, but they aren't discussed in the show, so they aren't 'canon'. They remain 'fanon'.

Now, don't get me wrong, ship and let ship. But there is a difference between normal 'shipping' and liking the pair, and the total craziness the Tommy-hype has become.

I know a lot of people that are multi-shippers and I have mutuals who like BT as a transitional relationship, but ultimately still want Buddie. I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about the people who suddenly started talking down on Eddie as if he was treating Buck badly and how he was a bad father. And how, even if he were queer, Buck would never choose him over Tommy. Where did that come from? They didn't say that before. Why now?

And I ask the question: What is so special about Tommy? I keep seeing people that say Buck is in the best relationship ever. HOW? WHAT? WHERE? What do these people see that I don't see?

We have seen Tommy in a handful of scenes. In all of those scenes he has been dismissive, disrespectful and frankly not very interesting. There is no chemistry at all with Buck either. I mean, if there had been some palpable chemistry I might have liked it more, but it just seems as if Lou is going through the motions in those kisses. If they are such a great couple, where are the little couple things? Where is the handholding? The little in-jokes? Nothing! I mean, Oliver does his best to keep their scenes somewhat afloat, but Lou is clearly not even trying. So I truly do not understand this strange -almost obsessive and gatekeeping- behaviour when it comes to Lou and Tommy.

It's obvious-- and anyone with eyes can see this from miles away-- that Tommy is a narrative device to have Buck explore his bisexuality. Every single thing in the show, but also around the show, is pointing in that direction.

Think about it. There was no promotion whatsoever for BT, only for bi Buck and Buddie. They had one abysmal interview where they talked for 2 seconds about BT and Oliver looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. They have given Tommy no screentime whatsoever. He is only there when it is required for Buck's storyline. It practically screams: plot device.

Then we have Ryan giving interviews where he, once again, talks about Buck being a co-parent and how Eddie will explore himself in season 8. How he will push that refresh button and he will ultimately find the partner he needs. All gender neutral by the way.

I mean, look... I admit to having been delulu in the past over small things when it comes to Buddie. What can I say? It's been a long 6 years. But this? This is no longer about being delusional. This is full-blown 'in your face': BUDDIE IS HAPPENING! It's all right there when you look at it logically.

But yes, somehow, we are wrong because our ship isn't canon and it's apparantly homophobic to be against a canon ship?

Which... do these people know what fandom is actually about? It's about fictional people and we want to see these fictional people get interesting story arcs and we want some of them to end up together because they have such a great history and chemistry. Like Buddie.

So yes Nonny, I agree. And listen, I do too still fret sometimes that I might be seeing things that aren't there. It's in my nature as a libra to doubt everything.

But then I start putting all of the evidence in- and outside of the narrative together and... it can only lead to one thing: queer Eddie (which is about time) and eventually Buddie.

And imagine the payoff that will be. Imagine how the viewership will get a boost. So many more people would turn in. Bi Buck was big, but the fan favourite queer slow burn getting together after 7 seasons by then? The internet will explode. It will be epic.

For 6 seasons we have been rooting for these men to open their eyes and to see what is right in front of them. There were plans to go there, but FOX stopped it. Now they are on ABC and obviously ABC is okay with queer characters on their shows. I mean, look at 'Grey's anatomy'.

So yes, I proudly declare myself no longer delulu and 100% certain that Buddie is in the works. There is no more need for clown noses and clown cars. We are beyond that now. It's a matter of 'when', not 'if'.

Mind you, just my humble opinion here. But I stand with it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for headcanoning deadnames for trans characters for symbolism purposes?

im a trans guy (minor if it matters) who's been a fan of this one show for a little over a year. none of the characters are canonically trans, but there's a lot of trans allegories to be drawn from the material if you're me or my mutuals at least. the two main characters are both male and i ended up developing an au where they're both explicitly transmasc as a way for me to just explore trans themes in an alternate narrative. i haven't begun writing it yet but definitely plan to once i feel like it's solidly locked in my brain, and i've been sharing snippets & concepts every so often.

part of this was thinking of how they would've chosen their current names, and name symbolism got me considering what they would've changed them away from as well. one character i thought could've initially been named after his mother so i can draw contrasts between the two, and the name i decided on for her has a meaning that highlights her relationship with her father (and the character's relationship with his father in turn); it's also the name of the character's daughter figure in the show. a lot of the other main character's backstory kind of revolves around his dead sister, so i thought by making his deadname that sister's name then i could turn that into an allegory about transness and childhood and sibling death (and sororicide but we don't have time to unpack all that). i don't plan on ever explicitly referring to the characters by their deadname in the narration, except maybe in an ironic tone, but i think it would be cool to sort of sprinkle in references as subtext to just give the readers something more to chew on.

the thing is i've seen posts around talking about how nice it is to make trans characters/headcanons without once considering their deadnames, or how weird it is for people to consider them, and i definitely agree with the sentiment; one of the biggest goals for many trans people is for their past selves to be completely irrelevant, and i feel a bit guilty for perpetuating something so painful for the general community.

but i still don't think i'm an asshole in any way since these are literally just characters and obviously i'm not going around talking about real people's deadnames or anything. i just don't want to make people uncomfortable/trigger dysphoria if they find someone talking about deadnames for a trans charactsr they're attached to (i've definitely had that happen myself when reading trans fics, enough that i had to stop reading, and i don't know how you'd even tag for something like that). if the general gut reaction to this ask is negative then i'll probably consider just not talking about the deadnames unless someone asks about it, since they're not crucial to the plot at all, just some uhh not so fun tidbits.

anyway sorry this is so long for something i feel like might be a non-issue that i'm overthinking. if you somehow guessed the fandom have a chocolate 🫀 if you're one of my few mutuals who knows who i am from the details of the au then um pretend you didnt see this post.

What are these acronyms?

[inklore]

after a year and a handful of months of debating on if i should, or wanted to, do commissions (and with some convincing and hyping from friends) i've decided why the heck not!

so to everyone whose ever complimented me and hyped me up for my themes and graphics thank you and you're definitely another driving force in this decision.

making graphics is therapeutic to me and i take a lot of pride and joy in doing it, from seeing everyone loving the things i create. and i want to share that pride and joy even more, sooo if you've ever struggled with making a good theme, feel too lazy to make one, need a banner for a fic or masterlist, a header, or just need someone to help your graphic vision come together; i'm here to provide!

before you commission something, or just want some examples, please check out my past work and portfolio!

PORTFOLIO | PINTEREST | ART TAG | GIFS

PLEASE THOROUGHLY READ THROUGH THE RULES!!!!

✶ all payments will be made through kofi or fiverr depending on what you're commissioning. if you'd rather go through paypal that is also a valid option just message me.

when it comes to commissioning anything details matter!!! i need complete details of what you want to be created. i will not accept something like 'floral vibe' or 'something with browns'. that gives me nothing. i need a vision, i need as much information as possible, examples (but do not take them from other creators please i will decline your commission), you can take inspo or examples from my own themes, or go through my pin board. the more details the better. the greater i can make your vision come into view. this is important!!!

i will not use other peoples art. do not ask for it to be included in whatever project i am creating. everything i make is for personal use only.

you will get two redos for me to change something you don't like about the theme. a preview of the finished product will be sent your way and you can ask for something to be completely re-done, but after that no changes will be made.

please include your user or where you want me to send your graphics within your request.

there's not a time span in which you have to use the theme or graphic for, but a week would be complimentary.

you can commission as many times as you wish after i've finished the first one.

for my own personal reasons minors are not allowed to commission things.

we do not have to be mutuals, nor do you have to be following me to commission something.

you don't have to outwardly give me credit but please do not claim my creations as your own.

if you have any questions before commissioning something my messages are always open and there is never a dumb question. please feel free to ask!

✶ fandoms i will not accept commissions for: anime, supernatural, our flags mean death, good omens (because i am not in them nor have enough knowledge on how to make the vision really suit said fandoms).

a full theme includes: a navigation banner and a header.

when commissioning a theme there are a few things that need to be mentioned and answered, so please include them in your request!

what kind of navi banner do you want? (refer to my portfolio for this, or if you just want something simplistic, big, small, medium, extra, messy, chaotic, etc)

what vibe are you going for? (dark academia, greek myth, ocean, dainty, horror, etc)

colors? (a must ok i need to know, if you give me none then i'm going to do whatever and choose what i think looks best and that's also fine if you want me to have complete creative liberties)

whats your overall vision? (can be included in the vibes section but giving me more detail is better)

text. (what do you want included on it, words, titles, information, quotes, etc)

examples. (like i mentioned in the rules examples are encouraged but do not take them from other creators on here and i will not copy, or make them look like someone else's work)

what kind of header do you want? (a simple png that goes along with the navi colors and vibe, a whole other banner-esk graphic, none, etc)

✶ see the add ons section below if you want more things included in your theme.

now these add ons are only for themes. if you commission a header only, or gif, they will have their own add on options.

$1 - for dividers that match your theme in color and vibe (if you want symbol, graphic, or anything that's not color then the price goes up a dollar)

$1 - three+ icon options (want the perfect icon to fit your theme and don't want to do the searching yourself? i got you)

$2 - content warning + minor dni banners (i'll make theme specifically to match your theme, with your user, and whatever you want them to say or look like etc)

$3 - layout + navi formatting (aka i'll come up with a completely new layout format for your navigation post + your bio)

$4 - a gif header or a gif included within the navi graphic (this is the highest price because finding clips, extracting scenes into caps, making the gif, coloring it to match the theme, blending, etc, is a lot lol)

a header commission includes: only a header. it is not a theme, just a mobile header, or a header for a masterlist, or fic.

the information needed for this commission are as listed below.

what kind of header do you want? (aka what is it for. this is important because the look is dependent on this information)

colors, vibes, vision. (more detail the better)

text. (if you want text on it, what do you want it to say, so title, etc)

examples. (not needed but a plus)

gif commissions include: gifs for your fics or masterlists. not for themes or headers.

depending on how you want these little moving pictures to look you gotta give some details.

fandom, character, scenes. (don't just say 'any scene' unless you truly want me to choose whatever scene lmao)

how many? (the current cut off is six, if you want more then there's an add on)

coloring. (you can completely leave this up to me but if you want them to be a certain color then please let me know, i'll also check with you before making all of them to make sure you like the coloring)

text. (want them to say anything? a title? subtitles? dialogue from your fic? your username on them? etc)

add on: blends. (want two characters or actors from different angles, scenes, or fandoms in the same gif? i got you)

add on: textures. (if you want added details such as a texture on the gifs then this will be extra, but i need to know what kind of texture / details you want added)

fic commissions: are only done through fiverr or paypal. if you are interested in commissioning a fic or any kind of writing then please refer to my fiverr and inquire over there or message me on here. thank you!!

✶REMEMBER TO MESSAGE ME WITH ANY QUESTIONS YOU HAVE BEFORE COMMISSIONING, NO MATTER THE TIME OR SUBJECT, I ENCOURAGE IT!

contact info: on tumblr, or discord: toldbylaur.

where to commission: kofi or pm me!

[okay-babe]

Hiya Dot! Sorry for the random ask but I am so in love with your writing that it single-handedly got me into this accursed fandom, and now I'm wondering where to start with other authors. Do you happen to have any fic or author recs??

Hi there, anon! I'm so glad you asked because I definitely have some author/fic recs that I'm more than happy to share with you/anyone else who comes across this post!

Before we begin though, shout out to all of the people I mention below! I hope none of you mind being tagged/linked but let me know if you do and I'll remove everything asap :)

1. Starting off strong, we have the amazing @jyoongim! She's been my mutual since I think like day one or two of me creating this account, and I honestly cannot think of anyone more kind or welcoming. Plus, their writing is amazing! Like genuinely so good, I cannot recommend her highly enough. 2. Also, if you're into smut, I am always utterly baffled at the quality of @hazelfoureyes' work. Like, as someone on the ace spectrum, I can say very firmly that sometimes, I don't want to read smut, but even so, I will always read a new post from Hazel when I see it because they're just so well written that I simply cannot wait lol. Plus, their sense of humor is just *chef's kiss*. Love them, truly. (Note: I used they/them here because I don't know Hazel's pronouns, but if anyone does and they aren't gn feel free to let me know and I'll edit this post asap) 3. Additionally, if you like headcannon style writing @a-hazbin-reader is incredible. I've spent actual hours on her page just reading through some of the absolute art she posts there, and it is always a treat. Plus her interactions with her readers are usually either hilarious or incredibly sweet/kind, so it's a good time all around.

As for story/specific fic recommendations, I do have a few of those too!

1. The Deer Dolly series by @ohproserpine (Genuinely incredible writing and a killer story line). 2. You & Me for the worst eternity to come by Notafraidtosimp on AO3 (Definitely not your typical x reader series, but I love everything about it and would never forgive myself if I didn't use this opportunity to share it with everyone). 3. The Partners in Death... and Life series by @safination (This might just be my favorite Alastor series I have ever read, the writing is incredible and I simply cannot recommend it highly enough). 4. Even Death Can Never Part Us by JuliaRobHURTS on AO3 (This is an amazing ongoing long-fic that makes me gasp audibly every time I see that there's been an update. The way the characters are written is utter perfection every time).

I definitely forgot some amazing fics/authors here in my haste to get this posted before class, so everyone should feel more than welcome to comment some other recs if they want to! <3

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 17 - To Watch The Dying of the Day

Summary: Say, isn't it strange? I am still me, and you are still you. In this place. Isn't it strange how people can change? From strangers to friends, friends into lovers. To strangers again.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters  Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: Oh gosh, it's been so long! A mixture of burnout and chaos will do that to a girl. But it's here, coming in at a strong 7k words. It's on the shorter side, especially since my previous chapters have been anywhere between 10-13k words. But this chapter is transitioning us back into the main story. So do with that information as you will, its going to be a bumpy ride....

TW: None really, just hella angst.

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw 

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

StoryTags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, John?” Abigail’s voice echoed through the camp as the tent flaps were shoved open harshly by the young man, who only ignored her comment. He was making a beeline for the one person he needed to complete his team—the one person he knew would stand by his side to enact revenge on the men who nearly took his brother's life.

Kate was chopping celery and carrots for an afternoon stew when she heard the heavy footsteps of John approaching. His gaze was determined, each step fueled with a fiery purpose. She glanced up to see Abigail standing not far behind him, arms crossed in frustration, throwing her hands in the air as John continued to ignore her protests. Kate already knew what he was going to ask of her.

John had found Colm O’Driscoll’s hideout, and he was ready to take action.

Kate placed the knife down with a sigh. Since their return from Emerald Ranch, things had been relatively calm. At least as calm as life could get when you were running with a bunch of outlaws, hanging onto the threads of some "plan" by a man she barely trusted. When they arrived back from their trip, Sean and the boys had planned a small party for Arthur—a ‘Celebration of Life,’ the ambitious Irishman had called it. Though it was more likely just another excuse to drink beer, dance, and be rowdy.

They used the get-together as an opportunity to tell the others about their relationship. Kate drank and sang with the girls, talking with them into the late hours of the night about her time with Arthur. Their small circle was filled with ‘aww’s’ and teasing glances. Kate felt a weight lifted off her shoulders after telling them, like somehow their relationship was finally real now that the rest of the gang knew—at least the ones most important to her.

Arthur was gradually reintegrated into jobs and missions, starting with small fishing trips and eventually moving on to more lucrative endeavors like robbing stagecoaches. Kate protested at first, trying to convince him there were safer ways to make money, but she knew she couldn't take the thrill of the heist out of the outlaw so easily. Arthur found work where he could, especially when Dutch wasn’t ordering him around. All of Arthur’s worries about being replaced seemed to dissipate in the days after his return. Dutch, ever the charmer, appeared overjoyed that Arthur was making a steady recovery and happy that his son found some happiness in a woman. He couldn't resist leaving Arthur with a gentle reminder that their priority was, and still is, to make enough money to escape. Arthur assured him with a promise: he would see it done.

This morning, Dutch sent Arthur, Sean, and Micah into Rhodes to meet up with Bill. Sheriff Gray wanted to speak with them about some work, and Arthur felt mighty proud to be involved, given his month-long absence. After breakfast, Kate pulled him aside for a few quick good-luck and be-safe kisses. It had become a new habit of theirs, since alone-time was rarely granted. They always made sure to say goodbye when one was leaving for a job, sealed with a kiss and a hug.

Kate looked up at John from under the brim of her hat, wishing in that moment Arthur was there to set him straight. But she knew nothing was going to change the young outlaw’s mind.

“Kate,” John greeted with a nod, his tone indicating he was ready to say more.

Wiping her hands on her raggedy apron, she leaned against the cutting table. “Fine afternoon, ain’t it, John?” she said with a smile, squinting up at the sun.

John wasted no time. “We’re ridin’ out today, to Hanging Dog Ranch. You coming?”

“Is that so?” She sighed. “What for?” Kate’s voice carried a hint of feigned ignorance. She knew why, but she was still trying to find it in herself to say no.

Since their ride back from Emerald Ranch, Kate had wrestled with Arthur’s words. She knew revenge was foolish, but seeing the way it had changed him cut her so deep she feared she would carry that rage with her for a long time. It was the same rage she felt years ago when she lost everything. Back then, her anger often consumed her, but over time she learned how to control it, to use it to protect herself and others. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to keep her word to Arthur, but also to protect him.

“You know why, Kate,” John’s voice grew stern, pulling her from her thoughts. “Colm’s men are up there. This is our chance.”

Kate’s heart clenched. She wanted to protect Arthur, to ensure that what happened to him never happened to anyone again. But she also knew that succumbing to vengeance could destroy her just as easily as it could destroy their enemies.

“John,” she began, her voice wavering slightly, “I promised Arthur I wouldn’t get swept up in this mess.”

John’s expression softened a moment, but his resolve remained firm. “I get it, Kate. But we need you. If we don’t take this chance, we might not get another.”

Kate huffed and lowered her voice so only he could hear, “Does Dutch know about this? Doesn’t he have a plan to get back at Colm?” She tried to make him see reason in her questions.

John only shook his head. “To hell with his plans. The way I see it, Colm doesn’t see us as a threat anymore. He tried to lay a trap and set the law on us. Well, he fucked around and it's about time he found out.”

Kate rolled her eyes at John’s ambitious statement. “John, no. I can’t go through with this and you shouldn't either.” She planned to leave him with that, pulling the apron over her head and starting to walk away.

John grunted and followed behind her, his frustration growing more evident. “C’mon, Kate, quit pussyfootin’ around. We need you, and we’re losing daylight.”

Kate turned and saw behind him as the others began saddling their horses and loading their weapons. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw Sadie packing her saddlebags, and her heart began to race as Lenny waited proudly on the back of his stallion, ready to take off at a moment's notice. Charles was there too, making his way over to see what the hold-up was. She was surprised to see this was the group that would be leading the charge. But, after all, these were Arthur’s closest and most trusted comrades.

Consequently, they were also the people Kate cared for deeply and saw as her own family. They were all putting themselves in harm's way for the sake of revenge.

“What would Arthur say about this?” Kate said finally.

Charles had finally caught up to them and heard the last bit of the conversation. “Arthur would say revenge is a fool’s game,” he stated.

“Exactly, thank you Char-”

“But those are his words, not mine,” Charles interrupted.

Kate pinched the bridge of her nose as John continued his persuasion. “Arthur’s the goddamn fool. We need to strike back, now. What if they come after us again? What if this time Colm takes one of the girls, or you?”

Kate felt the weight of John’s words settling heavily on her shoulders. The thought of Colm’s men taking her or any of the other women gnawed at her heart. She couldn’t deny the logic in John’s argument, even if it went against Arthur’s wishes.

Looking past the two men, she saw Lenny waving to her as if simply asking, "What are you waiting for?" John must have told them she would be joining, as Sadie looked over in anticipation, already holding Lorena’s reins, ready to leave as soon as Kate gave the word.

“Charles,” she began, her voice deep with conviction, “you’ve got a level head. This is a bad idea. How could you go through with this?”

Her words came out with a bite, unintended, but they stung nonetheless. Charles had always been a beacon of reason, often the one she or Arthur leaned on in times of need.

Charles' response betrayed no hurt, only his own sense of determination. “These bastards deserve it. Arthur suffered enough.” 

Kate found herself seething at his words, anger bubbling up like black coffee neglected over a fire for too long. The gang knew Arthur better than she did, Kate understood that much. But nobody had watched him suffer like she had. Night after endless night, holding his broken body and cradling him as she willed with all her strength that the pain and tortuous nightmares would cease. Her thoughts drifted to the night of their shared intimacy, seeing how Colm had broken him in unimaginable ways.

Nobody understood the extent of his suffering, except for Kate.

“Sadie suffered by them too,” Charles added after a moment. 

“We’ve all suffered from the O’Driscolls!” John exclaimed with a defeated sigh. “Choose your battles, Kate. But we’re going to send a message to Colm, whether you come or not.”

The two men turned to walk away, their boots kicking up dust as they marched back to their horses, saddled and ready for battle. Moments later, a third pair of footsteps fell in time behind them.

Kate had made her choice.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The dry spell had lingered for well over a month, and the oppressive heat of Lemoyne had turned the air into a stifling, dusty haze. The town of Rhodes lay beneath a thick, barren cloud of yellow dust, each gust of wind sending particles stinging into Arthur’s throat and eyes, making them water. The winds whipped past him as he spurred Belle forward, urging her faster and faster. His grip on the reins was white-knuckled, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as he tried to steady his racing heart.

The Sheriff had caught on to their schemes, and set them up in Rhodes. Sean had paid the ultimate price with a bullet between the eyes. The image of Sean’s lifeless body was seared into Arthur’s mind, a haunting image he knew would never leave him. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the relentless memory that played over and over like a broken motion picture. Sean had been on the cusp of becoming a man, his 24th birthday just a few months away. Though Arthur gave him grief since the day he joined their gang, deep inside he saw the ambitious Irishman as his younger brother. 

The irony of the situation gnawed at Arthur’s consciousness. Sean had warned them it was a setup. He had sensed something was off from the moment they entered the sleepy town, but both Arthur and Micah had dismissed his concerns as mere paranoia. Now, anger swelled in Arthur's belly, especially toward Micah. As much as he despised the shady outlaw, Arthur couldn’t deny that he wouldn’t have made it out alive without his help. Micah recognized that Arthur’s injuries had hindered his abilities, though his accuracy remained as deadly as ever. Together, they had picked off nearly every lawman and trigger-happy drunk who stood in their way, barely escaping with Bill in tow. Arthur knew his disability had slowed him down, and he blamed himself for Sean’s loss. 

The escape was a blur of gunfire and chaos. Arthur's mind raced with the events of the ambush, replaying each moment as a jarring blend of fear and fury. Belle's hooves thundered against the ground, each stride a desperate attempt to outrun the mix of anger, guilt and shame that threatened to overwhelm him. The acrid taste of dust and blood lingered in his mouth, a reminder of the violence they had scarcely escaped.

As they galloped through the barren landscape, Arthur's thoughts turned to Kate. He knew she would be waiting for him back at camp, a small comfort amidst the chaos. But the moment of peace would be short lived, they would have to leave again, and soon. The law would catch up to them in a matter of days. 

The thought of facing Dutch made Arthur cringe inwardly. Dutch would undoubtedly demand a report of what happened, and Arthur knew it could go one of two ways: Dutch might dismiss the incident, as he had when Arthur previously warned about their increasing sloppiness and the Pinkertons closing in. Or he might tuck-tail and opt for retreat to a new hideout, favoring the path with the fewest casualties. Either way, Arthur was in for an earful back at camp. He silently hoped that someone would go back for Sean, praying he wouldn't be discarded in a mass grave. Every man deserved a proper burial, but for people like him and his gang, it was a luxury rarely granted. 

As Clemens Point came into view, a deep sense of unease settled over Arthur. The camp seemed unusually quiet, devoid of the usual bustle and chatter. An eerie silence had taken its place. He panicked for a moment, what if the law had found them while he was away?

Arthur barely had time to dismount before Abigail came running towards him, tears streaming down her face. Dutch was close behind her, his expression grim. A chill ran down Arthur's spine.

Abigail grabbed Arthur's arm, her voice trembling with panic. “Arthur, they took Jack! Someone took Jack!” she cried, her eyes wild with fear.

Dutch placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though his eyes were hard with determination. “We’ll get him back, Abigail. I promise you that,” he said firmly.

Arthur opened his mouth to explain what had happened in Rhodes, but the urgency of the situation left no room for words. His mind was whirling with this new information, trying to piece together what happened while he was away. There was a moment of silence, and Arthur’s heart skipped a beat as he realized Kate was also nowhere to be seen.

“Who took him?” Arthur said finally, his voice betrayed no hint of the unease he was feeling.

Hosea stepped forward, his expression was dire. “We believe the Braithwaites have taken Jack. They’ve been gunning for us ever since we crossed them,” he explained.

“Where is my son?” Abigail shouted. “If anything–oh God,” she choked on the words. “Where is my son Dutch!” 

“We will find him,” Dutch affirmed, clenching his jaw, eyes blazing with resolve. “We’ll make that Braithwaite bitch pay for this.” He surveyed the three men as Bill and Micah stood awkwardly nearby, unsure what to say. “What the hell happened to you three? Where’s Sean?”

Arthur took in Hosea’s words and then let out a breath as he shook his head. “They set us up, Dutch. Sheriff Gray killed Sean, nearly got Bill too. We shot up half the town trying to escape. If we’re not careful about this, we’ll surely be caught by the law.” They were in deep shit now, both families were gunning for them. They couldn't afford another casualty, let alone young Jack. The situation tore at his heart. 

Dutch’s eyes darkened, his mouth set in a tight line. Arthur recognized that look—it was the look of a man out of options. “We’re getting that boy back, Arthur, or so help me God—”

At that moment, the thunderous sound of hooves echoed down the path to their hideout. Arthur's hand hovered over his revolver, his mind still in fight-or-flight mode. As the riders emerged from the trees, he saw John leading the group, with Kate at the rear. A wave of relief washed over him; at least the law hadn't caught up to them yet. But as they drew closer, Arthur noticed Kate's clothing was stained with blood. His relief quickly turned to a mix of worry and dread.

As John dismounted, Abigail flung herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “They took him, John! They took our boy!” she cried, her voice breaking with desperation. John shot a confused look at Arthur, his own emotions swirling with shock and concern. He held onto Abigail, trying to process the chaos around him.

Dutch's voice cut through the commotion like a knife, demanding answers. “How nice of you to finally show up. Where have you lot been?”

“Taking care of business,” John replied dryly, his grip on Abigail tightening as he tried to make sense of the unfolding crisis. The air was thick with urgency and panic, even the winds seemed to hold their breath, anticipating the next move.

“What business?” Dutch spat, his agitation palpable as he glared at his returning crew members. The tension crackled like electricity in the air, setting everyone on edge.

Arthur's heart pounded in his chest, the rapid beat echoing the chaos of his thoughts. Sean's death, the ambush, Jack's disappearance, and the blood on Kate’s clothes all swirled in his mind. He moved with heavy, purposeful steps toward Kate, his focus narrowing to her alone. He tuned out the escalating argument between Dutch and John, his attention solely on the woman he loved.

“Kate,” he called, his voice rough from the dry air and his mounting anxiety.

She turned at the sound of her name, immediately reading the worry etched into Arthur’s face. Noticing her bloodied clothing, she quickly reassured him, “It’s not my blood.”

Relief flooded Arthur, and he pulled her into a tight hug, inhaling her familiar scent. The rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest provided a momentary solace amidst the turmoil.

“What’s going on?” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear as she pulled away slightly.

“Rhodes was a trap. They set the law on us, Sean’s dead,” Arthur briefly explained, his voice heavy with grief. Kate gasped softly, her eyes widening. “We just got back, and Jack’s missing. Hosea thinks it was the Braithwaites.”

Kate stood speechless, feeling the weight of the world crashing down around her. "Oh, Arthur, we have to—"

Arthur gripped her arms fiercely, his eyes burning with a mix of confusion and betrayal. Desperation etched into every line of his face. “Where were you, Kate?” he demanded, his voice laced with hurt and anger.

He hadn’t meant for the words to come out with such force, but his mind was a whirlwind of doubts and anxiety. Jack could be dead for all he knew. The thought of an innocent child being involved in this nightmare gnawed at his soul. Despite everything, Arthur blamed himself for Jack's disappearance. He cursed himself for not ensuring someone was watching over the boy when he left. Normally, there were plenty of people he and Abigail trusted with Jack, but those people had been gone nearly as long as he had. He desperately needed an explanation for her absence.

Kate pulled away from his grip but held his hands tightly, her gaze filled with guilt. Arthur’s heart began to sink, a cold dread settling in his stomach. “We were up at Hanging Dog Ranch,” she breathed. “Where Colm’s men were hiding.”

Arthur’s gaze hardened, a cold look crossing over his features. “I don’t s’ppose you were there to play hooky?” he spat, sarcasm dripping from his words. He felt the world spinning around him, losing Sean, losing Jack, and now, feeling a profound sense of betrayal from the woman he loved.

Kate shook her head quietly, her cheeks flushing pink with shame. “Arthur, I—”

Arthur’s grip on her hands tightened momentarily before he let go. “You promised me, Kate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You promised you wouldn’t get involved with Colm.”

Kate’s heart shattered at the pain in his eyes. “I know, and I am so sorry. But I thought—”

“You thought what?” Arthur interrupted, his voice rising with a mix of anger and fear. “You thought this would help? That getting yourself killed would make things better?”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling slightly. “I just wanted to protect you and the others from those terrible people.”

“That is not your job, Kate!” Arthur shouted, and Kate flinched, taking a step back from him.

Arthur let out a breath, shaking his head, the betrayal cutting deep. “You just don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand what it does to me, seeing you put yourself in danger like that.”

“I see you put yourself in danger every day,” she answered meekly, her voice wavering with a mix of fear and frustration.

“Don’t make this about me,” he said sharply. “I trusted you to keep that promise.” The life he lived, the life she had joined, was a dangerous one. And Kate wouldn’t be the first woman he lost to such violence. Born from a promise that he broke, costing the life of his family. If he had lost her and Jack in the same night, he feared what he would unleash upon himself.

“I’m sorry Arthur,” Kate breathed deeply, tears finally spilling over and streaming down her cheeks. There was an old selfish ache deep in her soul, a desperate need to make them suffer for taking someone from her. Her fear of loss drove her every thought, every action, every breath. It had consumed her, nearly losing herself during Arthur’s recovery. Kate had never known anything but grief and loss. Holding on so tightly to her sliver of happiness that she was smothering it. Her selfish need cost her Arthur’s trust. 

“Kate,” his voice was softer now, laced with deep sorrow. Arthur shook his head, “I can’t go through this again.” His eyes softened, though the hurt remained. 

Kate opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She felt a dark sense of dread, knowing that despite her intentions she had broken his trust and his heart. 

The weight of the moment pressed heavily upon them, a suffocating silence settling in. Arthur’s eyes, filled with a mix of anger and hurt, searched hers. The pain of his words, the pain of her actions, it all mingled together in a storm of emotions that neither of them could escape. A deeper love that remained unspoken.

Before she could find the words to make things right, Dutch’s voice boomed across the camp. “We’re not waiting another damn minute! Mount up, we’re riding out to get Jack back now!”

Arthur turned away, his expression unreadable. “I’m glad that you’re home safe. I wish I could say the same for Jack,” he said, walking over to mount his mare once more. The other boys were saddling up, the tension in the air thick with anticipation.

Kate stood in stunned silence, tears streaming down her face. The fear of losing Arthur, the guilt of breaking her promise, and the terror of what lay ahead gnawed at her. She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness as she watched Arthur ride off into the night, leaving her standing there with her heart in pieces.

As she watched the men race down the winding path out of Clemens Point, she noticed Abigail's trembling form. Abigail was using her apron to wipe the tears that stained her cheeks. Kate swallowed her sorrow, pushing down her own broken heart. This was about Jack and Abigail.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

“I bet this has something to do with why you got shot to hell in town.” John’s voice broke Arthur from his clouding thoughts. The trees raced past them in a blur, and Arthur hadn’t even realized his brother was riding right beside him.

Arthur’s mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and turmoil. The events of the day had left him feeling raw and exposed. The setup in Rhodes, Kate’s actions, and now Jack’s abduction—all of it weighed heavily on him. The feeling gnawing at his insides.

“I don’t want to think about that right now, John,” he answered, trying to push the memory of Sean's lifeless body out of his mind. “We have to focus on Jack.”

John’s voice rose with anger, a mirror of Arthur's own inner turmoil. “I swear, I’ll kill every single one of them.” The desperation in his voice was palpable, and Arthur could sense the fear behind his brother's bravado.

Dutch’s voice called from the front of the line, a forced calmness trying to steady the group. “Easy, John. Try to stay calm. We’ll make them pay for this.”

“What about the plan, Dutch? Isn’t this family sitting on gold?” Bill’s voice cut through the night, his ulterior concerns evident.

Hosea answered, his tone grim and weary. “I hate to break it to you, but there is no gold. I’ve turned every stone. If they ever had any, it's gone.”

“For Christ’s sake, Hosea, after everything? Another perfect plan fed to the dogs,” John retorted, his voice laced with bitter frustration. Arthur felt the same anger bubbling up inside him—another one of Dutch’s schemes that had led them into danger and kept them on the run from the law.

“We underestimated them,” said Hosea, his voice heavy with regret and concern.

“No, they underestimated us!” Dutch roared, his voice echoing through the trees. “Enough talk. There’s no point arguing how we got here. This is where we are. And we are going to kill every one of those inbred trash.”

Arthur’s grip tightened on the reins, his knuckles white with tension. The thought of what lay ahead mixed with a fierce determination to bring Jack back safely. His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat of anxiety and resolve. As they rode on, the night closed in around them, a shroud of darkness and danger. The only sounds were the thunder of hooves and the heavy breathing of their mounts. Arthur’s mind was a storm of emotions, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him.

The ride to Braithwaite Manor was filled with a tense silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. Arthur’s mind kept drifting back to Kate. They were close now, and there was no turning back. Jack’s life was at risk. The stakes were higher than ever, and the weight of their mission rested heavily on his heart. There was no room for distraction or hesitation.

Dutch’s voice broke through the silence, a final order before the storm. “Nobody makes a move until I say so. Follow my lead.”

The tension in the air was electric as they approached the manor, each man ready for the fight of their lives. As they dismounted, Arthur’s thoughts turned briefly to Kate once more. 

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Kate couldn’t sleep. The lamp was down to the midnight oil in the small green canvas tent that the Marstons called home. She had stayed with Abigail while the men were out in search of Jack. She couldn’t tell how long they had been gone; her weary mind drifted in and out of consciousness. She tried to stay alert for their arrival, or for anyone else who might try to abduct another member of their gang.

Abigail slept beside her, her cheeks tinted pink from tears. She clutched Jack's nightgown tightly to her chest, inhaling the scent of her child, her whole world. Kate understood that feeling. She looked down at her hands, the dim light flickering across her fingers. Old blood was dried into the cracks of her nails. Images flashed before her eyes of the violence that had defined her day. She had unleashed herself on Colm’s men, disregarding her promise. And consequently, she had neglected the safety of those left behind at camp.

An acidic queasiness settled in her belly. It had felt good to kill those men. By some miracle, or perhaps coincidence, she had found Arthur’s captors amongst the men hiding at the ranch. The two men had recognized her, though she had no idea how. They had never met before. But like most cocky men, they boasted about Arthur’s torture and the pain they would inflict upon her. Little did they know who she was.

Keeping them alive as the last two men standing, Kate gave them the same courtesy they had given Arthur. She made sure they would never use their arms again, and strung them up by their ankles. Finally, she sliced open their bellies, their blood draining like pigs for the slaughter. Her friends watched in cautious silence. And when she was done, she mounted Lorena, and together they left the ranch without so much as another word.

It was justice, Kate tried to convince herself. But no, it was a deep selfishness. One that an old friend had stoked like flames to a fire. Perhaps it was in her nature, to lose lives and take them. All of the people Kate was, and tried to be, were always a part of her. The mother, the nurturer, the defender, and the killer.

She regretted her actions, but selfishly, she would do it all again. The thrill of revenge had brought her a temporary sense of control, a fleeting moment where she felt powerful in a world that constantly threatened to strip her of everything she held dear. But as she sat in the tent, the reality of her choices weighed heavily on her. She wasn’t sure if she could ever reconcile the different parts of herself—the woman who longed for peace and the one who couldn’t escape the violence that had shaped her life.

Exhaustion finally overcame her. The flickering light of the lamp faded as she drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by the faces of the men she had killed and the fear of what might come next.

When Kate awoke the next morning, the first light of dawn seeped through the tent’s seams. She reached out instinctively, but the space beside her was empty. Abigail was gone. Panic gripped her heart as she sat up quickly, straining to hear the muffled voices outside the tent.

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Arthur stood at the back of the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces around the small wooden table where Dutch sat, the tension palpable in the air. Dutch was deep in thought, the weight of leadership pressing heavily on his shoulders as the gang awaited his orders. Abigail stood silently next to John, her face a mask of fury and desperation. Her tears had dried, replaced by a seething anger at the men she had trusted to protect her family, now arguing over their next move.

The Braithwaites didn’t have Jack. They had passed him off to a man named Angelo Bronte. Arthur’s mind raced with strategies for their next step. Bronte was supposedly in Saint Denis, the heart of the new modern America, where law was heavily enforced, and policemen patrolled every corner. They needed to be cautious. Any misstep could end with them at the end of a rope, and that wouldn’t help Jack at all.

As Arthur idly rubbed his wounded arm, the pain a constant reminder of his recent ordeal, he replayed the events of the night over and over in his mind. They had stormed the Braithwaite manor, killing everyone who stood in their way. But they had been too late. Dutch had shot Catherine Braithwaite without hesitation and ordered the house to be burned to the ground. An entire empire, a long-standing family, wiped out in an instant. 

He was lost in his thoughts when a gentle touch on his arm brought him back to the present. Turning around, he found himself face to face with Kate. The memory of her actions, the betrayal he felt, and the look in her eyes were too much to bear. He quickly averted his gaze.

“Arthur,” she began quietly, her voice trembling with worry. “Where is Jack? Is he—”

Arthur shook his head, cutting her off. “They didn’t have him,” he said curtly.

“W-what did you find?” she stuttered, her voice edged with panic.

He knew he was being cruel by withholding details, but the turmoil inside him made it difficult to be gentle. With a sigh, he turned to face her again. “They handed him off to some Bronte fellow. Jack is somewhere in Saint Denis.”

“I don’t understand, why would they do this? What do we do now?” she asked, her voice rising in desperation.

Arthur gestured towards the group of men who were still arguing heatedly. “They’re working on it,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Feeling incredibly defeated, Arthur’s thoughts were a blend of frustration and sorrow. He had thought things were getting better. After nearly dying from sepsis, he had started to find comfort and joy in Kate’s presence. But now, everything seemed to be falling apart. Sean’s death had barely been processed, overshadowed by Jack’s disappearance. His recent fight with Kate had left a gaping hole in his heart, the urge to mend things with her gnawing at him. But there was no time for feelings right now.

The gang was on the brink of a precipice, and Arthur knew they needed to act quickly and decisively. As much as he wanted to fix things with Kate, Jack’s safety had to come first. Pushing down his own emotions, he focused on the task at hand, knowing that every moment they delayed could bring them closer to disaster.

“It’s gonna work out, John,” Hosea’s voice joined the commotion, his tone reassuring. “Jack will be fine. Just listen to Dutch.”

Dutch’s voice cut through the din, authoritative and calm. “I don’t expect you to understand this, but I need your trust. Your word, now more than ever. No more running off behind my back. I know you were trying to do the right thing—”

“If I don’t get that boy back safe, I’m—” John shot a glance at Abigail, who stood trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “She’ll kill us all.”

“Looking at this logically, that boy is fine. They only took him to scare us. Nobody takes a child to harm him,” Dutch continued, his words meant to be comforting but failing to ease the tension.

“It’s true, John,” Hosea chimed in, placing a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. “Arthur, what do you think?”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head slightly. They were all trying to be strong for John, but deep down, they were just as scared. They’d seen what this world could do to children. The cruelties of their life were too real, too close. There was no guarantee Jack was safe.

“The boy will be fine,” Arthur lied, trying to steady his voice. “But of course, Marston’s scared rotten. We killed all those people, stirred up all that trouble…for nothing.”

Dutch scoffed from his seat. “No. No, not for nothing. For living. We get that boy back, and we go. It’s about time we leave this place. Trust me.”

Suddenly, Lenny’s voice boomed from the camp entrance. “Dutch! We’ve got a problem!” He shouted, rifles raised and pointing at two strangers who walked into camp with their hands held high.

Arthur’s mouth went dry. It was the Pinkertons. Agent Ross and Agent Milton.

“Not a problem, visitors. We come with a solution,” Milton said coldly, his demeanor relaxed and confident. His gaze found Arthur’s. “Ah, Mr. Morgan. Nice to see you again.”

Instinctively, Arthur stepped in front of Kate, shielding her from whatever was about to unfold. The other gang members began to surround the two agents, their suspicion evident. Dutch betrayed no hint of surprise, remaining seated comfortably.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?” Dutch said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but this is a civilized land now. We didn’t kill all them savages only to allow the likes of you to act like human dignity was not yet invented,” Milton explained, his disdain palpable. “This thing? It’s done,” he spat.

Dutch finally rose from his seat, confronting the agent. “This land was never civilized. It’s consumed with man’s love for greed.”

“And that lets you take what you please? Kill whom you please and hang the rest of us? Who made you the messiah to these lost souls you’ve led astray?” Milton retorted coldly.

“I’m nothing but a seeker, Mr. Milton,” Dutch replied.

“You’re nothing but a bunch of killers. But I came here to make a deal; you come with me and I’ll give the rest of you three days to run off and disappear. I’m giving you one last chance to live like decent human beings.” Milton’s voice rose, addressing everyone in the gang.

A bitter chuckle rose from Dutch’s throat. “Ain’t that a fine thing? You risked death by coming into a den of murderers and thieves to have me. And to give them the chance to live and love?”

Kate remained quiet behind Arthur, her hand ready to draw her pistol at a moment's notice. But she sensed that this man, this detective, was telling the truth. Why would he risk so much for one man unless he was out of options?

“I don’t want to kill all these people, Dutch. Just you,” Milton answered, his resolve unwavering.

Dutch raised his hands, a hint of mockery in his voice. “In that case, I’d be happy to join you, Agent Milton.” As he stepped closer to the detective, everyone simultaneously began to draw their pistols.

Kate watched the moment unfold with genuine concern and admiration. These people, Arthur’s gang, were willing to risk everything for one man. Their loyalty and dedication ran deeper than she could ever imagine.

It was Ms. Grimshaw who leveled her shotgun and gave the final orders. “I think it’s time our new friends leave.”

Agent Milton raised his hands once more as Lenny and Javier began to escort them out of camp. “You’re making a big mistake, all of you!”

“The only mistake is how you keep following us. Good day, sir,” Dutch said, turning away, suddenly unbothered.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. And when I return, all of you will die. Run away from this place, you fools!” Milton’s tone carried a desperate warning. As he turned to leave, his gaze locked with Kate’s for a moment. He narrowed his eyes, trying to piece together her familiar face, but Javier’s gun pushed him along.

“How dreadful,” Dutch chuckled as he returned to his seat.

Arthur approached Dutch quickly, his steps heavy with the weight of the situation. “What now?”

“We get out of here. Have the women start packing. I’m sending you and the others to look for a new hideout. We’re running out of time,” Dutch said quietly, his urgency clear.

As Arthur turned to carry out Dutch’s orders, his eyes met Kate’s once more. The pain and fear were mirrored in their gazes. There was no time for reconciliation now. They had a mission to complete, and the stakes had never been higher.

“Arthur, maybe we should consider—” Kate began her voice quiet, searching for the right words to address their precarious situation.

Arthur spun on his heel so fast it made her dizzy. “Don’t. Don’t you even suggest it. You don’t have a say in this anymore, Kate.” His rage towards the Pinkertons and his anxiety about the lives at stake spilled out in hot bursts towards the woman he loved, and he couldn't stop the fire from spreading.

“Excuse me?” she responded, her voice a mix of offense and hurt. “I only want what's best for the gang.”

“The best thing to do now is leave. Go help the women pack,” he ordered, turning away from her.

“When does it end, Arthur? This cat-and-mouse game you have with seemingly every lawman in this country. How many more people have to be killed for it to stop?” Kate’s voice wavered with her fading strength. It was all too much to handle; everything was changing so fast. And now an innocent child was involved. She didn’t know what to do.

Arthur’s voice roared back, “I don’t know! Make up your goddamn mind, Kate. You go back on your word and put a target on your back. And now you want to lecture me on my poor choices? If you’re tired of running, you can leave. I won’t stop you.”

He left her with those words, his steps heavy and final. The men took off without a moment's hesitation, Ms. Grimshaw dishing out orders to begin loading the wagons. Kate felt a bitter moment of déjà vu, back to the day at the Downes ranch. She had scolded him for his actions, as if she were one to reprimand him. Kate had glimpsed the kind of man he truly was that day—the hardened outlaw, the merciless killer. She knew there was a kind heart inside him, and she had fallen in love with that part of him. Convinced herself that she could persuade him to leave it all behind, to give up that title for something softer. Arthur wanted it too, but only now was she beginning to understand the giant inside him. The man who had never known peace, who spent every moment fighting for his life and the lives of his family.

Arthur was consumed by his loyalty, as Kate was consumed by her grief. The realization hit her hard, and she felt a deep, gnawing sorrow. She watched him mount his horse, his back tense with determination and anger. The bitter truth settled over her like a shroud—no matter how much they loved each other, the world they lived in was tearing them apart.

A/N: I hope this chapter was alright! To be honest I went back and forth over this conflict for a while, and I think that’s where the birth of my writers block began. I wasn’t intending for their fight to become so heated, but then i was like “you know what? Their situation is a crock of shit, it can’t all be sunshine and rainbows.”

(Also trying to squeeze this in while simultaneously returning to a major plot point of the game was really hard haha)

So yeah, i may have gotten a bit carried away. But fear not, my summary for this chapter was incredibly dramatic. They’re not breaking up! They just got to figure themselves out, and come to understand one another. I want to make it clear that Kate has just as many flaws as Arthur, and that she suffers in silence too. God these two really need each other 😭

I think this was my first time writing some serious angst that didn’t involve one of them nearly dying (lol). So let me know how I did! It’s been awhile since I updated this story, and sometimes things can get lost to the tricks of time. If you notice any inconsistencies or plot holes please don’t be shy to point them out to me! 🙏❤️

[ckret2]

The most unpleasant breakfast.

I feel like this picture is a perfect summary of the fic so far.

Chapter 5 of The Pines Capture Human Bill Cipher But Can't Tell Anybody Because They Don't Know Whether Killing Him Will Restart Weirdmageddon (title TBD). Masterpost here. Updated 8/7/2024 for TBOB compatibility!

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The group asking for a seat at the truck stop diner was an odd sight: three adult men; two children; and then one disheveled barefoot lunatic in a cartoon pony toga, handcuffs, a chain restricting one arm, and the dirt-smeared remains of a butterfly marker mask. But truckers and odd sights were the only things you saw at 3 a.m. in a Roadkill County truck stop that was old enough to still have functioning pay phones, and the handcuffed guest wasn't blinking SOS in Morse code, so the weary party was escorted to the round corner booth without question. They sandwiched Bill between Soos and Stan and silently awaited their menus.

"Hey, I'm Dani, I'll be taking care of you tonight." A waitress passed out menus to the group, hesitated uncertainly with a couple of paper kids' menus in front of Dipper and Mabel, and handed them over when Mabel made grabby hands for the accompanying four-pack of crayons. "Can I start you off with some coffee, or...?" Dani's gaze fell on Bill and her face lit up. "Oh, hey! Toga Lady! Hi!"

Bill gave her a puzzled smile and raised brows. "Hello?"

"Oh, yeah dude!" Soos laughed. "Wendy got a picture of you the last time you came by. You're totally a local meme now."

"Okay, I've gotta know." The waitress gestured at Bill's ensemble with her pen. "What's your story?"

"Well—" Bill opened his mouth, and froze; and the whole table went still as they simultaneously had the same realization.

If anybody revealed Bill's identity, in Gravity Falls, the epicenter of Weirdmageddon, they'd have a mob on their hands. At worst the town would rip Bill to shreds, and at best they'd throw him in a cell so they could schedule his shredding for a pleasant Saturday afternoon when more people could watch.

Bill couldn't risk the possibility that he'd die for good, and the humans couldn't risk the possibility that he'd be re-released as a triangle.

None of them could reveal anything.

And all of them knew it.

"Party," Bill said. Warming to the cover story, he went on: "This is my party uniform. A little anachronistic, but what can I say? There's nothing I like better than being the center of attention at a wild party!" He cast a sideways glance toward the Stan twins. "Until the fun police break it up."

Ford grumbled, "Partying wasn't the problem. You were going to burn down the town."

"You get so worked up over a little bonfire, sheesh." Bill rolled his eyes, leaned toward the waitress, and said, "These geek types, I tell you. Some people wouldn't recognize a good time if it appeared to them in a divine vision."

"Maybe if I ever had a divine vision..."

Bill shot Ford a dirty look. They quickly broke off their mutual glare, conscious of Dani curiously watching, and Bill breezily explained, "He had a bad trip and still blames me for it."

Dani laughed. "You're crazy! What's your real name, Toga Lady?"

Bill hesitated. "Guess!"

"What?"

"Guess! It's a game. You guess mine, I'll guess yours."

She looked down at her name tag. "I already told you my name's Dani."

"But did you tell me it's Danielle Miranda?"

Her eyebrows shot up.

Bill beamed. "I'll give you three guesses! While you're thinking about that, could we get a round of coffee, and... do you serve anything more toxic than mildly spoiled apple juice? No? Just coffee."

"And a chocolate shake," Mabel threw in.

Bill's eyes lit up. "Make that two."

Stan snapped, "I am not paying for you to get a chocolate shake." Bill sighed.

Once the waitress was gone, Bill said, "Trauma still disrupts humans' long-term memories, right? Have the locals forgotten my name yet?"

"Yeah, no, everyone remembers," Soos said. "I know two different Williams that got their names legally changed."

Bill groaned. "Great. Terrific! Fine. I don't even care. My last pseudonym was getting stale anyway, it's about time I find a new one. Do I look like a Silas?"

The others stared at him. Stan said, "What?"

"A Silas, do I look like my name could be Silas."

"Sure, that sounds stupid enough for you."

Bill shot Stan a dirty look. "Fine, you try. I've spent the last couple of days getting killed, tortured, drugged, beaten, and starved—"

"Whoa, wait," Soos said, "you've been what?"

—so all I'm coming up with is 'Not-Bill' and 'the letter A.' Somebody else think of something."

Stan let out a loud sigh. "Who cares? Bob."

"No."

"Will."

"No, and you sound stupid."

"Hey—!"

Ignoring Stan's irritation, Bill looked around the table. "Anyone else?"

The others at the table considered the question. Soos said, "Ferdinand. I think Ferdinand is way cool."

"Coming out of you, that's not the high recommendation you think it is, Questiony."

Soos winced. "Ouch."

"C'mon, give me something that sounds a little bit like me."

Dipper said, "Troy Angle?" Mabel laughed.

Bill didn't. "Troy again."

Ford ventured, "Xanthe?"

"Ha. Sure, just call me 'yellow hair,' why not. I like the direction you're thinking—"

Stan—whose barely-suppressed rage at this whole situation had been steadily building back up since Bill called him stupid—snapped, "Why are we looking for a name he'll like? Why does he get any say in this! I say we call him whatever he can pronounce through a mouthful of broken teeth! Because when I'm through with this sonovab—"

Bill blocked his view of Stan's threatening fist by holding up his menu. "But Stanley's got a point, I need a simple name. How many Americans know how to spell Ξανθή?"

"Get this stupid thing out of my—"

Mabel, who'd been mulling over the whole "yellow hair" idea, stood and slammed her hands on the table, interrupting the brewing argument. "GOLDILOCKS!"

Bill erupted into a peal of laughter that made the rest of the table flinch. His handcuffs clattered as he smacked his hands on the table and he leaned toward Mabel. "Yes yes YES! Perfect! Ha!" It was like a light switch had flipped on in Bill, re-energizing him, and suddenly he was brighter than he'd been since before his capture. "Funniest coincidence, I—well, forget it, you wouldn't get it." Eyes crinkling in genuine amusement, Bill said, "But I like you, kid. You're the one with the fun ideas!"

Mabel blinked in surprise, any pleasure at the unexpected compliment dampened by the knowledge that being liked by Bill was never a good thing. "Oh. Yep," she said flatly. "Fun's my thing."

Miffed, Dipper said, "Hey, I made a pun."

"I don't like puns."

Ford said, "If you'd please stop trying to win over my grand-niece with flattery..." but fell silent as Dani came back with drinks.

She passed coffee around, set a chocolate shake down for Mabel, set a second one down for Bill—"On the house"—and winked. "Is it Rumpelstiltskin?"

Bill cracked up again. "No, but give me three hours and a particle accelerator and I could teach you to spin straw into gold!"

"Worth a shot! Okay, is everyone ready to order?"

There was an awkward pause. Soos finally said, "Oh man, we all got to talking and completely forgot to look at the menu. Can you give us like five minutes?"

"Sure. Just wave when you're ready." 

The group steeled themselves to the task of picking a meal, which felt far too mundane for such a bizarre night. Dipper frowned at the paper kids' menu he'd been handed. "Hey, Soos. Can I look at your menu when you're done...?"

Wordlessly, Bill stole Dipper's menu and crayon box and slid over his adult menu.

"...Thanks."

Bill had already dumped out the crayons and started drawing triangles on the menu. "Don't mention it!"

By the time Dani returned, Bill had covered a quarter of the menu in tiny doodles of his own triangular face, reluctantly scratched them out after Soos pointed out he could get arrested for those, and covered half the rest in countless eyes. Soos ordered a burger, Stan ordered bacon and eggs, Ford ordered an omelet, Dipper ordered an omelet too not because Ford did but because it sounded good and maybe he wanted to try one okay that's all, Mabel ordered rainbow sprinkle chocolate pancakes, and Bill ordered a banana octopus pancake and a side of bacon "as floppy as you can make it" over Stan's objections to letting Bill get a side item.

"And raw bacon. Got it." Dani closed her notebook, gave Bill a considering look, and said, "Is it Blondie?"

"Ha! No! But you've been a good sport so I'll give you a hint! It's something in between your first two guesses."

"Huh..." Dani considered that a moment; then noticed Bill trying to pick up his shake with handcuffs on. "Do you... need help with those? I think the attached gas station's got bolt cutters."

Firmly, Ford said, "We've got bolt cutters at home." Bill gave Dani an apologetic shrug.

As soon as Dani was gone again, Ford leaned forward. "All right, Bill. If you're going to be in our house for who-knows-how-long, we need to establish some ground rules."

"Boy, do we ever," Bill said, with the confidence of somebody who assumed he'd have an equal say in deciding what the rules were.

Ford went on without acknowledging Bill. "For now, we can lock you back in the cellar—"

"Cellar's right under the gift shop," Stan pointed out. "I was thinking a storage closet. Just stuff him in there and pile a bunch of furniture in front of the door."

"You know, Stanley, I think that would be safer," Ford said, like he was trying to pretend he liked the idea based on safety rather than based on how satisfying it would be to make Bill as uncomfortable as possible. "Although I'm sure Bill knows he'll just be putting himself in danger if he makes enough noise to catch anyone's attention—so there's rule number one, no sounds. And once I've done some repairs, we can move him to the bunker..."

"No, I don't think so," Bill said. "I don't like that at all."

Coolly, Ford said, "Well, Bill, you're our prisoner, so we can do what we want, you don't get a say in it, and you don't have to like it. In fact, the more you dislike it, the more I think I do like it."

Stan laughed, elbowing Ford. "Took the words right out of my mouth."

Bill said, "But that's just the thing—I do get a say in it! I'm as worried as anyone else about what might happen if this body is killed. But there are fates worse than death. Like boredom, for instance! You know what I'm talking about, right?" He gave Mabel an appealing look.

She doggedly avoided making eye contact, slurping her shake.

Bill shrugged and returned his attention to Ford. "You know and I know you'll only keep me alive until you think of a way to kill me that I can't come back from—and that gives me an advantage. It means I've got nothing to lose. If I'm not living a life that's at least barely tolerable, then your only way to stop me from choosing death on my terms instead of your terms is by sticking me in an artificial coma." His smile stretched wider. "And are you really, really sure I don't know a way to kill myself in my sleep?"

Ford and Stan's scowls deepened the longer Bill spoke. Stan muttered to Ford, "It's not too late to take our chances killing him the old-fashioned way."

Ford shook his head. "What do you consider intolerable conditions."

"Being locked in a little cell with nowhere to stretch my legs, no entertainment, and no company. Abandon me in your bunker? I'll bash my skull in."

Bill declared this with such vehemence that it momentarily gave Ford pause; but he asked, "And if we lock you in the cellar?"

"Then I scream for help until someone calls the cops, and we all get to learn what they find more convincing: 'You've gotta believe me, this lady is secretly Bill Cipher in disguise,' or 'Help me, officer, these lunatics think I'm some kind of demon pyramid!'" Bill rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking for much. Just a little entertainment. Only enough to make this place more appealing than dying! A few rooms I can move freely in, the occasional conversation, a window or two I can look out of..."

"In other words," Ford said, "if we don't want you to do anything drastic, we need to give you a slight chance to escape."

"See, this is why you're the smart one!" Bill graced Ford with a brilliant smile. "And in return, you've bought yourselves time to look for a guaranteed way to finish me off. It'll be like a game: can you figure out how to get rid of me before I find a way out?"

"I stopped playing games with you a long time ago, Cipher."

Bill leaned across the table toward Ford, ignoring that he was at risk of shoving his elbow into Stan's chest and that the kids had started leaning over the table too as if they were prepared to lunge at Bill. "We never stopped playing. You just stopped having fun."

Their negotiations were interrupted by Dani's return. She distributed their meals, then said, "Okay, I've got two guesses. They're dumb, though."

"I'll allow it!"

"Rapunzel or Goldilocks."

"Hey, guess number four! Smart girl! Give her a nice tip, Stanley."

Stan grumbled, "Stop trying to spend my money."

Dani laughed. "You're joking!"

"No, really! Goldilocks!"

"No, no way. You're totally lying."

Studying her face to gauge how much of her skepticism was sincere, Bill amended himself, "Okay, okay, you're right—first name Goldie, last name Locke. Funny though, right?"

"I didn't think I'd get it. Goldilocks the Toga Lady. Ha! You guys enjoy your meals."

Once she was out of hearing range, Bill muttered, "Tabitha, I should have gone with Tabitha. That's a way more believable human name than Goldilocks. I could pull off a Tabitha."

Ford cleared his throat to catch Bill's attention. "All right, Bill, here's your situation. You're trapped within a small geographical radius and surrounded by enemies. You have no money, no identification, and no connections. The last time we saw you, you were pleading for rescue through a book—"

"'Pleading' is so pejorative! I was offering mutually beneficial deals, but you were too busy taping judgmental selfies in my book to—"

"—SO, wherever you came here from, you clearly can't go back there. And if you still have any powers at all, they're obviously dampened or we'd be dead by now. Your options are limited even if you do escape—so before you try, think how much less latitude we'll give you once we catch you."

"Sounds like somebody's about to agree to my terms."

Ford glanced at Stan, to see if he wanted to voice any objections; then Soos, as the current owner of the shack; then the kids, with a silent apology for what this would mean for their summer; and when no one protested, Ford said, "You'll stay in the main shack. You can go anywhere that isn't closed behind a door—that means the kitchen, the living room, the R&D room, and the attic. You don't get to enter any room behind a door without supervision. You don't get access to tools, poisons, or anything you could potentially use as a weapon. No phone, no computer, no borrowing anybody's cellular phones. I suppose there's no harm in letting you use the TV." He glanced around at the family. "Does that all sound agreeable?"

Nobody was thrilled with it, but nobody protested.

Bill said, "Question."

"What."

"How will disputes over what to watch on TV be resolved."

"Everybody in the house gets priority over you."

"You're being petty. We can't even vote on TV selections?"

"Fine, let's vote. Who's in favor of being petty and never letting Bill choose what to watch?"

Everyone but Bill raised a hand.

Bill laughed. "Okay, I walked into that! But I want books."

"Fine. You can have books."

"And writing materials."

"Under supervision only."

"Sheesh, paranoid. Okay. And a radio."

Ford considered that.

"Come on, you don't think I could get into trouble with a radio."

"You can use the record player."

"Nobody uses records anymore. I want a CD player."

"Fine. You can borrow a CD player."

"Fine." Satisfied, Bill picked up the maple syrup bottle and poured way too much on his pancakes.

Mabel cast a quick, envious glance at Bill's banana octopus. It had chocolate chip eyes and was way cuter than she'd expected.

Bill caught her glance, gave her sugary pile of sprinkles and chocolate an equally covetous look, and said, "Want to go half and half?"

She shoved her plate over. "Like you wouldn't believe!"

Dipper hissed, "Mabel," and Mabel flinched, guiltily glancing toward Ford to see if the Head Bill Cipher Expert had any objections to the pancake swap. Ford grimaced, but said nothing. Mabel had already agreed, Ford couldn't think of anything Bill could have done to an untampered-with plate of pancakes, and if Ford objected on principle he'd just end up making himself look like the bad guy—which he had a sneaking suspicion Bill would immediately pounce on.

Meanwhile, Bill certainly hadn't waited to see if Ford approved. He mercilessly sawed his mushy cephalopod in half, the swap was made before anyone could protest Mabel sharing her bounty of sugar with the worst person in the universe, and Bill gleefully added more maple syrup to his new source of sweet sensory overload. He scooped up a forkful of pancakes, stuck it in his eye, then jerked his head back at the pain and stared in confusion. He tried the other eye before he remembered his mouth.

Mabel played with the banana peel tentacles on her half-octopus. At Dipper's grimace, she said, "It's fine, he'll be fine! Octopuses grow back if you cut them in half."

Soos had worked through his burger like popcorn at a movie while he watched Ford and Bill's hostage negotiations. Now that the important decisions had been made and Soos was down to fries, he said, "So, how do we keep Bill out of all the other rooms? Am I gonna have to put locks on every door tomorrow? Because if we just say 'don't go there,' Bill will be like, 'okay,' and then do it anyway, you know?"

"Yeah, Stanford, how are you gonna keep me out of your rooms?" Bill was twirling a piece of bacon around his fork like spaghetti. "I hear I'm pretty sneaky." He stuck the fork in his eye again, flinched, and gave it a disappointed look.

"Well—" Ford glanced around to ensure no one was nearby, leaned closer to Bill, and lowered his voice. "I've actually got a clever idea about that."

Instantly intrigued, Bill leaned in closer. "Oh, do you?"

Like he was inviting Bill in to hear a secret, Ford reached past Stan to put a hand on Bill's shoulder—and said, "Amnesia Limina—"

"You—!" Bill tried to jerk out of Ford's grip, but was blocked by a wall of Soos. Soos caught on and grabbed Bill's wrists before he could shove Ford's hand away.

"—Stupidi Digiti—"

"I hate you."

"—Occultus Locus."

A bright red light flashed between Ford's fingers. Bill's eye twitched. He jerked out of Soos's grip and shrugged off Ford's hand. "When did you learn how to play dirty?"

Dipper had watched with such fascination that he hadn't even noticed a chunk of omelet fall off his fork into his lap. "Whoa, what was that?"

"A curse," Ford said. "Cast it on a door, and no one who interacts with it will know how to open it. Cast it on a person, however—and they'll forget how to open any door or window. We don't have to worry about locking Bill in if he doesn't know how to use a doorknob, do we?"

Bill asked, "What's a doorknob?"

Stan cracked up. Ford grinned at Dipper and gestured at Bill. See?

"Seriously, what's a doorknob? I know every word in the English language, I'd know if 'doorknob' was a word. Is it a wart? A kind of fungus?" Bill sighed irritably. "Where did you come up with that! I thought you forgot that curse years ago."

"I haven't forgotten anything you taught me," Ford said, clearly offended at the suggestion.

"No? Then why'd you waste all that time installing a retinal scanner on your lab door?" As it dawned on Bill that he no longer understood what retinal scanners had to do with the function of doors, he muttered to himself, "Why did he install a retinal scanner."

"I'm not a fool, I knew if I'd cursed the door you would have removed the curse as soon as you possessed me."

Bill laughed. "You idiot! Don't you know the curse can't be lifted by anyone but the person who placed it?"

"It. Can't?" Ford sat there, experiencing the unfamiliar sensation of being the student called on in class who'd read the wrong pages instead of the assignment, even though in his heart he was sure Bill must not have taught him that part of the spell. "What if that person dies?"

"Responsibility for the curse passes to the next of kin! Lucky for you, or this fork would already be in your throat—although I haven't completely ruled that out. Maybe one of your family will be more reasonable about the situation than you."

The rest of the table loudly assured Bill that they would not be more reasonable. Ford gestured toward them. "I don't think so. None of us are foolish enough to fall for your tricks anymore. You aren't going anywhere until we say so."

Bill ignored the rest of the table, gaze fixed on Ford. "Don't be so sure, Stanford Pines. You aren't the first cocky mortal to hold me and you won't be the last! I'll get out of here, and when I do—oh-ho-ho, I'll make you regret every single timeyou ever thought of crossing me."

Ford raised a brow. "I 'won't be the last'?" Stan laughed again, elbowing Ford. Bill cringed, face heating up.

The kids grinned. "Wow, Bill," Dipper said. "Pretty big of you to admit what a loser you are."

Bill rounded furiously on Dipper. "I'll show you a loser—" He lunged across the table toward him.

"Hey!"

"Get over here, you—"

"Everything good so far?" Dani asked.

The table froze. Bill had a fist curled in Dipper's vest, Soos had an arm around Bill's chest, Stan had his hands around Bill's throat, Ford was pointing a knife at Bill's face, and Mabel was prepared to bite Bill's wrist.

Bill slowly let go of Dipper. He gave Dani a thumbs up. "Everything tastes fantastic!"

"Great!" Dani moved on.

The guys slowly let go of Bill and sat back. Mabel gently bit Bill's arm to ensure he knew she meant business.

He didn't even acknowledge her. He'd fixed his glower on Ford again; and when Ford met his look, Bill pursed his lips and spat a thick, milkshaky wad of phlegm onto Ford's omelet.

Stan rounded on Bill so fast he kneed the table. "You little—!"

Ford put a hand on Stan's shoulder to stop him from making a scene. Calmly, he cut around the chunk of soiled omelet, scooped it up, and dropped it in Bill's milkshake.

A crooked smile broke through Bill's scowl. "You know—" he hooked a finger around his milkshake glass and tugged it closer, "this is the most fun I've had in a very long time." He squeezed one eye shut and made direct, defiant eye contact with Ford as he drank the shake.

Mabel and Dipper exchanged a look and cringed in disgust.

####

When they left, in lieu of the extra tip Bill had wanted Stan to give the waitress, he turned over his paper menu and drew a map to an eighty-year-old buried cache of stolen jewelry just a fifteen minute walk from the diner.

He'd finished his milkshake, egg and all.

####

(if you enjoyed, I'd love a comment! Thanks!)

[worm-in-a-trenchcoat]

TODAY WAS SO FRICKING AWESOME!!!

I went as Ghoulia today, and Garret came over to ME and ask to take a picture with me! I almost cried 😭. Later I bought Scarily Ever After Clawdeen (one of my grails) and got her signed!

I met so many cool MH cosplayers (including the cutest Frankie cosplayer ever omg), and I met some mutuals from TikTok! I was alone at the con today and they let me tag along with them for the rest of the day (we ended up staying until the literal very end of the con lol)!

Having people to hang out with really made today so much more fun and less overwhelming for me, I had such a great time!

We entered the “Freaky Fashion Show” as a group and won the “Freaky Fabulous” award. We had to split it five ways (a Draculaura cosplayer joined us for the contest) and I took the pencil since none of the other prizes would fit in my suitcase anyway lol.

The mututals I met!! They were so nice and we had so much fun together! And they’re cosplays were so amazing!!!

-

I’ll probably make a couple more posts with more pics because tumblr will only let me post so many pictures at once, so sorry I’m advance if it gets kind of spammy 😭

[theink-stainedfolk]

Writer Questionnaire Tag

Thank you @drchenquill @the-golden-comet and @paeliae-occasionally for the tag

how long have you had your writing tumblr/writeblr? a fast and loose estimate is fine!

It's been at least 6 months or more I believe.

what led you to create it?

I actually had it from before but i never really posted anything. The thought that there might be people willing to read my works more than my own family and friends led me to create it. I was done shying away.

what's your favourite thing about the writeblr community?

I absolutely adore the supportive and inclusive nature of the writeblr community! It's a space where writers from diverse backgrounds and genres come together to share their passion for storytelling. I love how everyone encourages and uplifts each other, offering constructive feedback and celebrating each other's successes. The community's enthusiasm is infectious, and it motivates me to keep writing and improving my craft. I also appreciate the wealth of resources and knowledge shared within the community, from writing tips and prompts to editing advice and publishing insights. It's amazing to see how writers willingly share their expertise and experiences to help others grow. Most of all, I cherish the sense of belonging and connection that comes with being part of this community. Writeblr feels like a virtual writing group, where we can discuss our projects, share our struggles, and rejoice in our triumphs together

what's one thing you'd like your mutuals to know about you?

That i really love talking about my WIPs and OCs aand everything related to my story. I feel happy, seen and appreciated. If you like anything i woorte, please don't hesitate to ask or just tell me how you feel.

is there anything you'd like to see more of on your dash?

Uh..memes? More aisan drama related things? More HSR stuff everything about my interests etc.

which wips or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Very wrong question lol. I've been going back and forth between my WIPs. But the most recent one I've done, or am thinking about is The Masque of Murder .

how long have you been working on them?

Hahaha.... Since months, years and i still haven't even written a chapter for some of them. I hate myself for that. But since The Masque of Murder is recent, it's been a week or so.

do you remember what inspired them/ what got you started?

Yeah i remember reading a manhwa which had this crazy but mad genius doctor as a minor villan. It got me thinking that it was a waste of his abilities and damn good looks and he would have been surely protected by the plot armour had he been the main character instead. This forced me into making it lol.

how much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

🎵Every hour, every minute, every second. And night after night, I'll thinking 'bout you right, 7 days a week.🎶

name any characters you created. side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who've never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you'd like!

Uh... every single one of them? I created everyone, if that's what you're asking haha.. I'm not sure if i understand it correctly but i created everyone on my own. I'll mention the one that comes to my mind first then.

Side character- Emrys from In The Silence, Strength

Protagonist- Dr. Phineas Abel Thorncroft from The Masque Of Murder

Antagonist- Dante from Beyond The Pages (but he is also the protagonist)

And i can't really remember the last two.

when someone asks the dreaded, "what do you write about," question, what do you usually say?

Yknow, fantasy stuff with magic and murder mystery with actual murder and blood and stuff and all that hahah none of the stuffs that you like or understand or are interested in right? Hahah it totally doesn't have queer peoples. Just fictional stuff you don't wanna know hahaha.

Deadass.

who's the most unhinged?

Dr. Phineas Abel Thorncroft (from The Masque Of Murder), Acheron (from Legacy of Creation), Dante (from Beyond The Pages) and Eitenne Lumiere( from Wicked Games, Wicked Fates) from what i remember .

who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Vesperine, Cleo, Pareen

do you ever cringe at them?

Hahaha... sometimes..

how much control do you feel you have over your characters? do they ever "write themselves," refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn't expect? to what degree? are some less cooperative than others?

I feel like i have 70% control and 30% is something they do it themselves because i give them the freedom to do so. Because that is the story of my character and not of me, even if I am the one who wrote it. Sometimes the decision i make for them is not what they'd do.

do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? and do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? for example, as asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on ao3, etc.

Yes i absolutely love it please ask. Doesn't matter how just ask♡♡♡

what makes you want to follow another writeblr account? do you follow 'em as you see 'em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? do you follow based on wips, or vibes?

I take time scoping out the blog to make sure i align with it's content. And i follow based on both, wips and vibes but mostly vibes.

what makes you decide against following?

If i don't align with the content or i don't fond the story interesting, i don't follow.

do you interact with non-mutual often?

Not often but i do.

do your mutuals' characters occupy space in your noodle?

There are so so many characters of my mutuals that i love love loveee but my memory rn isn't functioning at its best so i will just write whom i can remember rn.

The Madness, the lady and that guy from Foliè written by @drchenquill, my friend. Whose writing always leaves me with surprises and cliffhangers. She supports me so much i almost feel guilty 💕💕💕💕 i love you so much💖💖💖

@paeliae-occasionally Xanren, Marsh and Paeliae. I love their stories it captivated me. I hope you can tag me on their journey 👍, @cssnder, my first mutual whom i talked with so much courage that i almost didn't open tumblr the next day due to embarrassment and nervousness. Her works are like renaissance paintings, truly mesmerizing and beautiful. Thus Saith The Lord is truly a work of art and i hope i get to read it soon.😭 And also, @roarintheheavens , my new friend, I'm so happy. Vron Carson, he is very interesting and i can't wait to know more about him. And of course, @the-golden-comet, I'd very much like to read more about peter hart.

Just because i didn't mention everyone doesn't mean i don't appreciate your works, it's just that i haven't read them yet. I hope you all can send it to me. I'll definitely read it.

I'll tag @finickyfelix @willtheweaver @ascotwriting @agirlandherquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @illarian-rambling @winglesswriter @graveyardshift111

[emilykaldwen]

"Blocking isn't some personal insult. Its a method of saying; hey, we clearly shouldn't interact, so I'm gonna build this soundproof wall between us to make sure we can't."

Except that's not what the people you associate with do and encourage you and others to do by extension. I really liked your writing, but it's disappointing to see the type of people you've chosen to buddy up to, who use blocking as a way to weaponize social media and make pariahs out of certain people in the fandom who don't bow to their whims. I hope they don't burn you the way they've burned so many others, but with their track record, I'm not holding my breath.

Okay let's do this. I'm tired. I would like to go back to sleep. Get off my lawn, etc etc.

I have been dealing with anons harassing me since I started posting HotD stuff back during the Season 1 show run. I got hateful anons saying terrible things about Abby back in December. When I interacted with NONE of the people that I currently interact with today. This escalated when I properly began posting Maiden in the summer of last year, and then escalated in the fall. After receiving some truly foul anons in regards to my writing, my OC, and my work, including one telling me to kill myself, I shut anons off. Because what the actual fuck. I have been on the internet for 25 fucking years and this is the first time I have EVER dealt with such bullshit.

Before these anons ramped up, I, like many people, blocked. A lot. I blocked mostly people thirst reblogging stuff about the actors that would cross my dash or in the tags because it made me uncomfortable, I didn't want to see it. I blocked a lot of blogs that were posting these weird reader x canon character thirst lists that I just found bizarre and didn't want to see scrolling through a character tag. That, friends, is what the block button is for. I block people with takes that I disagree with as well, I'm someone whose pretty liberal with my block button. I block things I don't want to see on my dash. It's honestly as simple as that.

No one has fucking told me to block anyone. I am actually deeply fucking insulted that I, a grown ass adult who is nearly forty, needs to be told to block someone/someones when people are setting up blogs called 'ihateemilykaldwens' and trying to terrorize me, and my friends and mutuals, and then try to frame another one of my mutuals for being responsible for it in the process. I only just recently started speaking with "the individuals" I've chosen to associate with long after I have blocked the people you're saying are being bullied.

And if this is about my post the other day about the culture I see: It was never actually about anyone specific, it was genuinely trends I have seen cross my dash as well as discussions with friends in other fandoms. That's all. If someone(s) thought I was talking about them specifically: Dude, IDK what to tell you. That's a you problem.

So let's stop playing coy. I'm tired of it.

THIS. IS. A SMALL. BLOG. I do not pass a block list around and TELL people or encourage them to block them, nor have I ever have it done to me. And even IF someone said 'omg you should block all these people' uh, no? I have free will and can make my own judgements?

Anon, if this situation is upsetting to you, either come off anon in the DMs and talk to me, or you are welcome to unfollow me. I don't care, and I mean that in the nicest possible way.

Because the people I've blocked on my own make others feel the way you're claiming they make you feel.

Because we all know who everyone is talking about. And I'm done. This is 12 year old behavior and I don't interact with minors.

I'm going back to bed. Whatever is in the fucking water, I want none of it.

[cloudcountry]

i have too many mutuals to tag so yk. i cant tag all of you guys, all i can do is hope that you all see this and know how much i care about you.

when i arrived here on tumblr i wasn't expecting much, it seemed to me like everyone had their friend groups already, and i felt like the odd one out. even though i spent those first few days posting my writing and figuring out how to format things, i still felt like an outsider looking in. it didn't feel like i was really participating.

and honestly, i'm not sure when it started. i'm not sure when being here began to feel like a home away from home, like a space on the internet that was my own and that i could shape however i wanted. i'm not sure when it occurred to me that you guys had a hand in shaping it, too. you showed me the characters you loved and the things that reminded you of me, you placed them on my blog like paintings in a museum, for me to look back on whenever the nostalgic urge hit me. you actively tried to get to know me and form connections with me, even if i scared some of you (which im 100% certain i did.) thank you for taking courage to talk to me, i'm thankful for all of you.

there was a point when i was scared too. it was really hard for me to reach out to people myself but i ended up doing so anyway. (raptor, rinna, and sippy, thank you for welcoming me so warmly. i haven't forgotten it.) i know my blog blew up really quickly, given how much content i was posting at the time, but at the end of the day i still don't like thinking of myself as someone famous or a super recognizable blog in the twst fandom. because at the end of the day, i was just someone doing what they loved.

i'm glad i was given the opportunity to start writing when i was young. i'm glad i kept at it, and i'm glad i shared so many stories with my friends on the playground. i'm glad i honed my writing all throughout school, and i'm glad i still practice today. because if i hadn't picked up the pencil to write that first fanfiction of mine, none of this ever would have happened. and i hated writing as a child, so that could have happened. there's probably another timeline where that did, but we aren't here to talk about that hypothetical auburn.

we're here to talk about me and you guys, because you've given me the precious gift of your time. you've invited me into your lives and let me be a part of them, even if it is only through the screen. you've thought about me while going about your day, and i have thought about all of you. we are connected, in this universe where there was every possibility that we never would have met, and i think that's beautiful. i will forever be grateful that my love for writing can make people smile, that it can make them laugh and cry and scream. i will forever be grateful for the gift to make others feel, and for you all for sharing that with me.

thank you. even if you aren't a mutual, your support has touched me. thank you for reading what i create, thank you for commenting your thoughts, thank you for talking to me and engaging in the fandom community. i hope every single one of you has a wonderful 2024, and that we can make each other happier and keep pushing towards our individual goals with each passing day.

[deobienthusiast]

this christmas | jacob bae

• pairing: gender-neutral!reader x christmas shop worker!jacob bae, mentions of reader x kim sunwoo, and small mentions of chanhee

• word count: 6.4k words

• genre: fluff, slight angst

• rating: PG

• warnings: there’s a slight mention of wanting to be dead, hatred of christmas, i made sunwoo an asshole

• notes: my secret santa fic for the lovely @snowflakewhispers! i hope you enjoy it so! i really enjoyed writing this and sunwoo i desperately apologize for portraying you this way🥺

• tagging: @deoboyznet @zzoguri @hyungseos-cafe @userjuyo @hongyangi (if you’d like to be on a tag list, let me know)

To say Christmas was your least favorite holiday would be an understatement. The kids running around acting like gluttony-craved little animals, families fighting over toys, traveling. The part about Christmas that you hated the worst? Couple activities.

Seeing happy couples frolicking about in the ankle deep snow. Listening to Christmas carolers, looking at Christmas lights, getting each other cute little couple gifts. Absolutely not. You weren’t always this way. You used to love Christmas. In fact, you adored it! It was your favorite holiday. The opportunity to spend time with loved ones, eat delicious food and sweet treats, snow, gifts. Who wouldn’t love Christmas?

The holiday became even more special when you met your ex, Sunwoo. He was a ball of energy. He held this swagger and exuded confidence. Every person who ever came in contact with him would swoon over him. He just had that effect on people, and boy did he know it. Sunwoo would come off as cocky. He constantly expected people to melt to the ground when he was around. When he didn’t get his way, it was an absolute nightmare.

This behavior should’ve been your first red flag, but honestly, you were so enamored by him that you looked right past it. Your friends tried to warn you, but unfortunately they never got through to you. You should’ve listened. You definitely should’ve listened. Maybe then, the last Christmas you were together wouldn’t have hurt so much. Maybe, you could’ve prevented your heart from breaking as deep as it did. With school ending for Christmas break, you were taking it upon yourself to visit your somewhat-loving boyfriend who lived across the city. Trudging through the cold snow, up the steps to his apartment, you felt a warmth fill your heart at the fact that for the first time in a couple weeks you’d be spending your favorite holiday with your favorite person.

His door was cracked open, something you constantly got on him about as he didn’t live in the best neighborhood, so you let yourself in. Immediately, that warmth you felt was gone. Vanished into the cold, winter air like water when it hits high heat. Clothes were thrown all across the small apartment. Some of his, and some of someone else’s. Now, you’re probably thinking…did you confront him? Did you trash the place? Did you break down in front of him and beg for answers? Well the answer to all those questions, no. You did none of those things, rather you left the small little gift you got from his favorite gift shop on his side table in the living room, and left. You hoped that just leaving would make what you found out hurt a little less. That maybe sparing your heart any more pain would help you. It didn’t. Your Christmas break was miserable. Friends leaving messages in attempts to find out what happened with Sunwoo when he showed up to your mutual friend's annual Christmas party with a new girl on his arm. Seeing him post pictures of them going sledding, decorating his little apartment and his Christmas tree that looked very similar to a Charlie Brown Christmas tree made you sick. You vowed to protect yourself and your heart. Writing off Christmas was the best way to do it. You stopped celebrating. You stopped visiting family and friends, and you just stayed on campus to focus on school. You hated Christmas. Until this year.

Determined to bring back your Christmas spirit, your mother forced you to come home for Christmas. She claimed your one bad memory shouldn’t cloud your love for the holiday and wanted you to be home with loved ones to help you get back to that happy place. You did not want to be home, but when your mother makes up her mind on something there is no turning back.

Your old clunker of a car drove soundly on the salted roads. The snow this year had been even worse than previous years, prompting the city to work overtime in clearing roads for the holidays. You never really trusted their work anyway, so you still drove carefully and slowly so as to not die. Apparently the other people on the road behind you didn’t like that. As they passed you, thoughtfully giving you the finger in an obscene gesture of hatred, you fiddled with your radio. You did not want to listen to another Christmas song.

The car ride was almost unbearable. You couldn’t find a single station not playing Christmas music, so you weren’t in the most jolly mood when you arrived at your parents. Waiting outside in what had to have been the most ugly Christmas sweater you had ever seen in your entire life and a plate full of cookies, your mother smiled widely. She was so happy to finally have her only child home for the holidays, even if said child was Ebenezer Scrooge Jr.

“Sweetheart, welcome home!” Your mother exclaimed happily.

Giving her your best smile, you let her pull you into a hug. The bright green tinsel decorating her ugly sweater rustling against you.

“Hi mom.”

She pulled away, shoving the plate of heavily decorated sugar cookies into your hands. “Take those back to your roommate. I know how much Chanhee loves my sugar cookies.”

A genuine smile made its way to your face at the mention of your best friend. The only bright spot in your life. He was your savior after you broke up with Sunwoo, and another person who was convinced that you would find your Christmas spirit again.

“He’ll be over the moon, mom.” You told her as she pulled you into the house.

The heat hit you like a freight train, as both the fireplace and heater were running at full force. You were surprised your mother wasn’t dying of heat exhaustion with the three shaven sheep wool sweater she had on. You set the cookies down on the table, looking at all the Christmas decorations she had taken the time to precisely lay out. The garland adorning the fireplace was set with care, four stockings laid out. The fourth one was for Chanhee as he usually accompanied you when you traveled, but couldn’t this year. The Christmas tree looked like a holiday bomb. Decorated in green, red, and silvers, the tree looked good. You couldn’t deny that. You did notice, however, that the topper was missing.

“Mom,” You trailed off. “Where’s the angel?”

She chuckled. “Your father dropped it when he went to put it on. Her glass snowflake shattered, so we have to go to the little Christmas store downtown.”

You frowned. “Mom, everything is closed because of the weather.”

Shaking her head, she spoke. “This place is open every day no matter the weather when it’s the holidays. The family wants it to always be accessible for people during the holiday season.”

You went to nod as she spoke again. “You’re coming with me.”

Letting out a huff, you headed upstairs to drop off your suitcase. Opening your bedroom door, you shoved your suitcase off to the side. The room looked the same as it did when you graduated. Your mother hadn’t touched a thing. Pictures of you and your friends, family members, Sunwoo.

“Why haven’t I taken those down?” You asked yourself.

Walking over to the board, you stared at the pictures of you and Sunwoo, letting your fingers run across them before tearing them off the board. The sound of ripping paper as the picture was pulled through the tack made you smile only slightly, crumbling the pictures up in your hand to throw them away. You unpacked your suitcase, putting all your clothes in drawers as you thought about how you could get out of going to the Christmas shop downtown. Some of your ideas spanned from faking an illness, to making Chanhee fake an emergency. Each one was worse than the last, and you figured going just to get a tree topper wouldn’t be so bad. Accepting your fate, you sat in your room, scrolling through social media as you inevitably waited to be dragged to hell.

You were wrong. You were so so wrong. Your mother had you walking around this store for almost two hours, with the basket she had, being turned into a cart to fill with more than just a new Christmas tree topper. You were starting to get annoyed. Your mother had no plans of leaving any time soon, so you ventured off. You rounded a corner you hadn’t been down yet, running your hands over the ornaments that looked like colorful food items.

“I personally like the oversized ice cream cones. They are kind of unrealistic though. Who takes a bite out of their ice cream?” A soft voice said from behind you.

You whipped around, your eyes landing on a guy with quite the facial features. He was handsome, that’s for sure. His almond-shaped eyes bored into yours as he smiled, effectively taking your breath away.

“Do you work here?” You asked, and you mentally facepalmed yourself.

What a stupid question? As if the red and green outfit paired with a santa hat and elf ears didn’t give it away.

He chuckled. “No, I just like dressing up as one of Santa’s little helpers in my free time.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his joke.

“My family owns the business, so I work here to help them.” The boy said.

His tone was very soft, almost as if he was afraid to speak any louder. He had a calming presence about him that spread throughout the store. You have to admit, despite not even knowing his name, you did enjoy being around him. It was more interesting than just dragging along behind your mother, that’s for sure.

The boy gave you a small smile before holding his hand out. “I’m Jacob. Jacob Bae.”

You smiled, gently gripping his hand. The handshake was firm, yet soft. His skin was smooth with just the slightest bit of a tan. He had a natural warmth to him that spread throughout your body when his hand touched yours.

“Do you run the store by yourself?” You asked Jacob.

He nodded his head. “I have a brother, but he’s busy with his own things. My parents bought the store when we were both little, and then when I got old enough they decided to just let me run the store by myself.”

“This doesn’t get boring?”

Jacob chuckled again, and you couldn’t help but blush. His laugh gave way to the most breathtaking smile.

“I wouldn’t say boring. Slow, yes, but definitely not boring. There’s not a single thing about Christmas that is boring to me.” Jacob exclaimed with a smile.

You rolled your eyes slightly. “I could give you multiple reasons why Christmas is boring.”

The boy let out a little giggle, looking away at a small family picking out a pretty antique ornament.

“I get the feeling you aren’t a big fan of Christmas.” Jacob said softly.

This time it was your turn to let out a small chuckle.

“You have no idea.” You muffled out under your breath.

You heard a cart making its way around the corner of an aisle filled with toy soldiers and nutcrackers as you let out a sigh. Your mother’s head reared around the corner as she smiled.

“Look at all of this beautiful stuff I found. This store is amazing!” Your mother said rather loudly.

You covered your face as you watched Jacob round the counter to begin checking out your mother.

“Mom, you are being so loud.”

“Oh hush. I’m just enjoying your beautiful store.” She said, directing her attention towards Jacob.

Jacob gave her a wide smile. “I appreciate it! We love spreading Christmas cheer.”

Your mother began to unload the cart of Christmas decorations onto the conveyor belt as Jacob began to scan the items. Your mother made small talk with the boy, asking him about his parents, his brother, etc. You stared at your mother, realizing that she really visited this store more than she let on. The personal questions and conversation she was having with the boy you were meeting for the very first time made you frown. You have been missing so much due to your own heartbreak, you could’ve been meeting new people, making new friends.

“Jacob, do you have any plans for Christmas? I know your family is traveling to see your brother.” Your mom asked.

You lifted your head, clearing the negative thoughts that were starting to creep in. Jacob shook his head with a smile.

“Working.” He said softly.

“On Christmas?” You asked, surprising not only your mother but yourself considering you would rather work on Christmas than celebrate it.

Jacob nodded. “Someone’s gotta keep the store open. You’d be surprised at the amount of people who come in for last minute items on Christmas Eve and Christmas day. When every other store is closed, we’re their last resort.”

You frowned. You don’t know why, but you felt bad about the fact that Jacob would be working on Christmas instead of taking the day off. Your mother continued to chat with Jacob, letting him gently bag each item, taking the time to wrap the more delicate ones in pretty tissue paper decorated with candy canes. Your mother took the bags from him, handing them off to you as she pulled out your father’s credit card to pay the bill. Jacob had graciously given your mother a nice discount, noting that she is always his favorite customer making you wonder just how often your mother visits this store. She grabbed the final bags, heading for the door as you followed her before stopping.

“Hey, Jacob. Do you want some company here? You shouldn’t be alone on the holidays. Maybe I could come help you?” You asked softly.

He replied just as softly. “I’d love that.”

You gave him a smile, as you headed out the door to catch up with your mom.

Now that you had something to actually look forward to, the rest of the day dragged on. You didn’t think it would ever end, but when you got up this morning you were in an incredibly good mood. Your parents couldn’t help but point out how chipper you were this morning either.

“Someone has you really happy today,” Your mother started.

With a nod of your head, you grabbed a muffin for a quick breakfast. “I’ll be gone for most of the day. I should be home before dinner.”

Your parents could only nod, happy that you would be at least getting out of the house instead of spending the entire vacation locked in your room.

The car ride downtown to the small Christmas shop was short, but with how much you were anticipating seeing Jacob again, it made the ride seem all that much longer. When you pulled into the parking lot, you parked next to the only other car there.

The roads were almost completely empty, aside from people pulling sleds in the deep snow on the sidewalks. You turned your car off, getting out and locking the door behind you as you headed towards the entrance of the store.

You noticed Jacob laying out empty cups by a small hot chocolate station. He laid out candy canes, whipped cream, and marshmallows, setting them all up in a certain way. Smiling to yourself, you opened the door to the shop as you let the little overhead bell ring above you, alerting Jacob of your arrival.

He turned from his spot by the hot chocolate station as you waved.

“Hey! You made it!” Jacob said excitedly.

You giggled with a nod as Jacob reached an arm behind the counter. He pulled a green Santa hat with fancy, red decorations adorning it with him as he handed it to you.

“Since it’s your first day, I won’t make you wear the elf ears. However, I can’t say no to the hat. This is nonnegotiable.”

He hands the hat to you as you quietly put it on before striking a pose.

“How do I look?” You asked.

Jacob could only laugh. “Do I dare say it was made for you?”

You and him laughed as he led you around the store. He let you in on different products, the stuff that sells the best and the worst, the regular customers (no surprise your mom was on the list), and so much more.

“The store will be slow most of the time. I usually take that time to just sit in the back until the bell rings.” He said.

You looked at the door behind the counter as you spoke. “What’s in the back?”

Jacob grinned. “My little hideaway. You might like it; not as much Christmas back there.”

His comment made heat rise to your neck and cheeks as he continued to explain stuff to you. You tried your hardest to focus on what he was saying, but you would be lying if you claimed that you heard anything that came out of his mouth. Jacob was just too damn handsome for his own good. He wasn’t necessarily the tallest, but he definitely wasn’t short. He had broad shoulders that lead down to a slim waist and long legs. His face had a more squared off look than an angular one. His jawline was impeccable. He had full lips that were constantly hidden by the beautiful smile he was consistently flashing to everyone. You couldn’t lie, though. The best thing about Jacob, in your opinion, was his kindness. You hadn’t known him long, but his heart was so pure. He was nothing but kind to everyone he came in contact with, and you came up with all of this information in just one and a half days.

“So that’s pretty much all there is to it. A pretty easy gig, right?” Jacob asked.

You just stared at him for a moment before shaking your head slightly, snapping out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Sure sounds like it.” You replied.

Jacob stared back at you, a sly smile making its way to his face. “Well, let’s get you settled on the register then.”

Jacob led you back through the store, which seemed a lot bigger inside than it looked on the outside. You let him lead you again as he pulled out a stool, motioning for you to sit. He showed you all the usual steps to do in order to check out a customer before officially opening the store.

The day went by rather slow. You and Jacob really got to know each other due to the slowness. He told you more about his family, more about his brother, who he looks up to a lot.

“He’s my best friend. We are inseparable when we’re together. We talk everyday when we’re apart.” Jacob told you with a smile.

The statement made you smile. Being an only child meant that you had to get creative when it came to finding people to talk to every day. You loved your parents, but you could only talk to them so much in a day.

“Do you have siblings?” Jacob asked.

You shook your head. “I have a best friend named Chanhee. He’s like my brother. We talk all the time, he’s my roommate, we have all the same classes. I adore that boy.”

Jacob nodded with a small smile, continuing to watch out the shop windows for a customer as you just continued to watch the gingerbread clock tick away ever so slowly.

As the day came to an end, you helped Jacob box up certain things. He packed up the hot chocolate station, making you a cup for the road before setting everything in the back room. Jacob helped you close out the register, and you helped him sweep up the fake snow that had fallen off the fake Christmas trees in front of the store. He grabbed a ring of keys before pulling that hat he had on for his head, revealing his dark brown hair that fell every which way after being confined in a hat all day long. You both walked to the door, letting Jacob set an alarm hidden behind a picture frame before he walked out with you behind him. He turned to lock the doors before walking you to your car.

“Aside from it being really slow, which I apologize for, how was your first day?” Jacob asked sweetly.

You smiled at him. “I had a lot of fun, Jacob. You kept me good company.”

Jacob smiled at your statement. “Hopefully I’ll see you back here again then.”

“Definitely.”

Jacob opened your car door for you, allowing you to get situated before closing the door gently. You watched him trudge through the slightly fresh snow on the ground to his own car. He got in, quickly turning it on before looking out his window to wave to you.

The week before Christmas went exactly like this. You would get up in a good mood, grab a muffin, drive to the Christmas Shop, and sit for six hours with Jacob. You had to admit; you were having a lot of fun. He was funny. Really funny. He didn’t try too hard. You remembered always forcing laughter when it comes to Sunwoo and his jokes. They were okay, but they weren’t knock-your-socks-off funny.

Something else about Jacob? He was an incredible singer. During a particularly slow part of your fourth day working at the Christmas shop, Jacob brought you to the back room. It was almost like a small in and out apartment. There was a pull out couch, a flat screen tv, and a coffee table neatly set up. There was a counter against the back wall that held a mini fridge, a microwave, air fryer, and a coffee maker. In the corner not occupied by anything, was a beautiful dark redwood acoustic guitar. He left the back door open to keep an eye on the front of the store as he strummed a beautiful tune, singing ever so softly to you. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Why haven’t you taken on a singing career?” You asked him curiously.

Jacob smiled as he continued to softly play the guitar. “As much as I adore music, I never really felt like I was destined for that kind of life. I like what I’ve got going here.”

“Just working at a Christmas shop? This is what you like?” You asked, a tilt of your head to emphasize your questions.

Your question caught Jacob off guard. What you didn’t know was that no one in his family would ever hold him back, but he would hold himself back. He had his reasons for not wanting to pursue a music career despite everyone telling him to. He had never ever talked to anyone about said problems. You, however, seemed different. He wanted to tell you everything. Instead, he stuck with asking some hard hitting questions himself.

“Why do you hate Christmas so much?” Jacob asked.

Your head straightened at his question. You had never had someone straight out ask you about your dislike of Christmas.

“I don’t.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow as he stopped playing. “You don’t?”

You shook your head. “I don’t particularly like Christmas, but I don’t hate it. I know I say I do, but I don’t think I ever really could. Plus working here with you has made me regain some love for it.”

He grinned at your comment before lifting his index, wiggling it at you. “While I appreciate the compliment, you aren’t getting off that easily.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you took a deep breath. “I didn’t always hate Christmas. In fact, I used to love it. The decorations, the weather, the movies. All of it. Then I met my ex, and things changed.”

You looked at Jacob who had a solemn look in his dark brown eyes, silently begging for you to continue.

“He became my entire world. I would have done anything for him, but clearly he wouldn’t have done the same. It’s stupid really. All my friends told me he was bad news and I never listened. I believed him over them. I always took his side and two holidays ago, our first Christmas together, he cheated on me. Come to find out he had been for a really long time,” You stopped to take in a breath, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. “I was devastated. He ruined my Christmas, and I let that suck the joy for the holiday right out of me.”

Jacob handed you a tissue as you dabbed at your face. You shook your head.

“I’m so stupid.”

“No you’re not. There’s nothing stupid about being in love with someone. What’s stupid is said person being dumb enough to actually take advantage of you. You deserve better.” Jacob said quietly.

A small, shy smile made its way to your face.

He watched you before speaking again. “I’m sorry that that happened to you. You deserve so much better, truly. If it makes you feel any better, I adore spending this little bit of time that we spend together. You make the day more fun. I have someone to talk to, to share stories with. I don’t have to talk to the toy soldiers anymore. I felt like they might have started to talk back had you not asked to help out.”

You let out a loud laugh. “It does make me feel better. Actually, working here makes me feel like I’m getting my Christmas spirit back. I have had the absolute best time this vacation. Which is a first for me because I was really expecting to just shove my face with my moms sugar cookies and drown myself in hot chocolate while watching sad romance movies.”

This time Jacob laughed out loud.

“Your mom’s sugar cookies are amazing!” Jacob let out.

You both laughed at his statement as a comfortable silence fell over the both of you. The day went by pretty fast after that. You both did your normal closing routines, becoming a good team when it came to picking up the store. This time, you set the alarm and locked the door. Jacob, like he did every night, walked you to your car to make sure you were safe.

As he opened the door, he spoke. “I have another question.”

You nodded, urging him to continue.

“I really like doing this with you.”

You smiled, before teasing him. “That’s not a question, Jacob.”

Jacob chuckled. “You’re right, and neither is this.”

As soon as you noticed him leaning in, your eyes closed. You braced for impact and it was the softest impact ever made. His lips were almost feather-like, they were so soft. Your mouth moved in sync with his as you brought your hands up to the back of his neck, willing him to move closer. Jacob’s hands landed at your waist, doing exactly what you hoped for as he pulled you closer.

Jacob pulled away first, letting you both catch your breath as your eyes fluttered open. You felt like you were flying right now. Jacob’s kiss had riding a high you had definitely never experienced before. Your eyes trailed up to his as he gave you a shy smile.

“That wasn’t a question. You are correct about that, but I definitely liked it.” You whispered into the cold air.

He chuckled as he stepped back from you. He gave you another kiss, this time on the cheek as he whispered a soft goodbye to you before heading towards his car. You watched him walk away before yelling out to him.

“Jacob!”

The boy stopped in his tracks, turning around almost instantly.

“Do you want to join my family for Christmas dinner tomorrow?”

A smile broke out onto his face as he nodded. “I’d love that!”

You couldn’t help but let a big smile make its way to your face as you lit up. He gave you another wave before getting into his car. Watching him pull out of the parking lot, you felt oddly giddy over the fact that you were actually looking forward to a Christmas event for the first time in almost a year.

Just like every morning so far this week, you woke up in a very good mood on Christmas day. You ran down the stairs, ready to eat breakfast, open your gifts and get the day started. Your parents handed out gifts, setting them in groups in front of each of you. Tearing into your gifts, you neatly piled everything up before heading upstairs. You felt a tad bit guilty considering you rushed through the gifts, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were so excited to see Jacob. You wanted this dinner to be perfect. After what’s been growing between the two of you to the kiss just last night, you wanted to see where this would go. You had never felt this way about anyone.

The shower you took was long, considering you practiced what you were going to say to Jacob over and over as if you were giving a speech after winning the nobel prize. You were nervous to say the least. After turning into a raisin due to standing in the shower for so long, you finally got out to dry yourself off. You went through your skin care routine as usual before walking into your room. The air hitting your skin was cool as you picked out an outfit.

As you laid the clothes out on your bed you noticed a photo on your photo board. It was hidden behind photos of your cousins and friends. It was a picture of you and Sunwoo, after your first date. He had insisted on taking a photo to capture the moment because he felt as though he had ‘never met anyone like you’. You had hid the photo after what he did to you, but now, you didn’t want to hide it anymore. You pulled the tack that was holding it off the board. The photo slid before you caught it, letting your fingers run over the photo. For once, you didn’t feel sad looking at the photo. In fact, you didn’t feel anything.

You brought the photo with you and laid it on your bed. Throwing your clothes on, you grabbed the photo and headed to the office your parents had. There was a small paper shredder underneath the computer desk that you pulled out and plugged in. The machine started to hum as you looked over the photo again. You weren't the same person in this photo anymore, and boy was Chanhee going to be so proud about what you were about to do.

“Goodbye Sunwoo.” You said to yourself.

You dropped the photo into the top of the shredder, listening to the machine growl and grind the photo up. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You let out a content sigh as you unplugged the machine and headed back downstairs to spend time with your parents.

The day dragged on for you, and to be honest, you hated it. When late afternoon rolled around, you started to get butterflies in your stomach. Your mother was putting finishing touches on Christmas dinner when there was a knock on the door. You jumped up from the couch, practically gliding to the door as you pulled it open. Jacob held a bouquet of pretty flowers in his hand as he smiled. He was looking insanely handsome, but you could tell that he was also extremely nervous. Well that made two of you.

“Hi,” You breathed out.

Jacob’s face lit up at the sound of your voice. “Hi.”

You two just stood at the door, basking in each other’s glory before you heard your mom speak.

“Well don’t make him freeze. Invite the boy in!”

You snapped out of your little school girl crush trance as you stepped off to the side, allowing Jacob to enter. That’s when you noticed the wrapped gifts he was holding off to the side of himself.

He handed you the roses, leaning down just slightly to peck your cheek as he whispered to you. “You look beautiful.”

A shy smile popped up on your face as he pulled back to hug your parents. Your mom took the gifts from him, laying them on the coffee table. She pulled him into the dining room, practically pushing him into a chair as you followed. You sat across from him, while your parents continued to run around the kitchen to finish everything. Jacob turned to watch them before turning back to you.

“Do they need help?” He pointed towards your parents.

You shook your head with a laugh. “Not at all. Trust me, they’re fine.”

Jacob nodded. He looked over at you before speaking again.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you. I know that’s crazy to say, but that kiss was magical.”

You leaned forward, practically laying on the table in an attempt to get closer to Jacob, and he was doing the same thing.

“I’m glad you said it. I’ll be honest with you, though. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met.” You told him.

Jacob leaned closer as his eyes flickered down to your lips. You couldn’t fight back the smile as you, too, leaned in closer. Just when it seemed your lips were about to touch, your mother called out.

“Jacob, sweetie, I hope you’re hungry! I made a lot of food.”

You let out a little sigh of frustration as you and Jacob backed off of each other. Your mother and father began carrying food out to the table as they laid it all out in front of you two. The next hour and a half was absolute torture for you. The only thing you could do was sneak adoring glances at Jacob from across the table as your parents chatted his ears off.

If you thought the two of you were being subtle with the glances you were totally wrong. When dinner was done, your father brought Jacob into the living room so you could help your mom clear the table. You watched your dad grab a gift that Jacob had brought as they both talked, smiles on both of their faces.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you and Jacob are dating?” Your mom asked from behind you, hands shoved into soapy dish water.

You turned to her. “Dating? Mom, Jacob and I aren’t dating.”

She chuckled. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Letting out a sigh, you leaned into one of the counters across from her, effectively blocking your view of Jacob and your father.

“We aren’t dating. We’ve kissed, though.”

Your mother gasped excitedly, pulling her hands out of the water to clap. You laughed as she created tiny bubbles in the air from the suds clinging to her skin.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to meet him. I was always hesitant to introduce the two of you because of, well,” Your mom trailed off.

She didn’t need to finish for you to know who she was talking about.

“I know. I’m glad you introduced us this year though. For the first time in a long time, I’ve enjoyed Christmas.” You told her.

She smiled as someone knocked on the counter. You both turned towards Jacob who had a wrapped present in his hand.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I got you a gift.” His hand reaches out to you in an attempt to extend the Christmas present.

Your mom smiled. “I’ll give you two a minute.”

As she slipped past Jacob, he watched her leave before looking back at you.

“Go ahead. Open it.”

You chuckled at his urgency as you tore the wrapping paper, giving way to a blank cardboard box. You set it on the counter, opening the top of the box. Your eyes widened slightly as you pulled styrofoam out of the box.

“Jacob, you didn’t.” You whispered as the boy smiled.

Pulling the styrofoam apart, there was a beautiful, antique snow globe sitting in front of you. The bottom of the snow globe was gold with red and silver accents. A molded design of Santa and his reindeer going across the gold base. The globe itself was crystal clear, and it had the Christmas shop planted in the middle of it with a tiny gingerbread man standing outside waving. When you shook it, the globe lit up in all sorts of pretty colors as the snow fell around the structure. You had been eyeballing the snow globe since you walked into the shop, constantly mentioning how pretty it was. The kicker was that with it being an antique, it was pricey. So you opted for admiring it from afar.

“I figured I owe you one. You kept me from going insane. I’d never admit this, but you’re right. It does get boring there when it’s slow.”

You giggled. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Jacob stepped closer. “Well, you kept me company. You are definitely not boring.”

Looking up from the snowglobe, you smiled at the boy. “Jacob, this is beautiful and amazing. Thank you.”

He nodded. “You’re amazing.”

There was no hesitation this time as Jacob leaned in to kiss you. He brought his hands to your waist, not wanting to be any farther apart from you than he already was. Your hands rested on his chest as you pulled apart, leaning your forehead against his.

“Now I feel bad,” You stated, making the boy look at you with a confused look. “I didn’t get you anything.”

He threw his head back with a laugh. “You most definitely got me something. This has probably been the best Christmas I’ve ever had, and that’s because of you. So thank you.”

“So,” You said, bringing your hands up to wrap around his neck. “I guess this means we’re dating now?”

Jacob chuckled. “Woah! At least let me take you on a date first.”

He pecked your lips before pulling away, keeping a firm grip on your hand. You grabbed the snowglobe as he led you into the family room where your parents were. Sitting on the couch, he wrapped an arm around you as he pecked your forehead. You smiled to yourself as you snuggled into the boy’s side. This Christmas was definitely going in the memory books.