#sometimes i won’t be able to fall asleep and i will just quote “from a mikes hard lemonade no sir” on repeat

[impulsivedecisionsat3am]

everyone shut up and watch my favorite part of trail to oregon

[kill1bill1]

Today I woke up before the sun and I spent my time reading in the dark, reading anything I can. Old journal entries, reviews of my favourite books, essays written by girls I've never met, and I think about how badly I need a hobby that doesn't involve consuming words.

I'm thinking about this quote from Eileen: “Here is how I spend my days now. I live in a beautiful place. I sleep in a beautiful bed. I eat beautiful food. I go for walks through beautiful places. I care for people deeply. At night my bed is full of love, because I alone am in it. I cry easily, from pain and pleasure, and I don’t apologize for that. In the mornings I step outside and I’m thankful for another day. It took me many years to arrive at such a life.”

I think about these words a lot, they echo around my mind in mornings like these when I’m able to watch the sneakiness of light growing behind my window blinds, the way it eventually spills into my bedroom like overflowing molten gold. My blankets are tangled in the shape of me, my book is strewn about haphazardly from falling asleep reading. I like looking at the cracks in the spine and the fold in the pages, signs of my existence tainted on something tangible, something that will outlive me. Everyday, I look forward to making coffee, drinking this bitter elixir. I like rituals, I like the certainty of tomorrow's coffee. I understand now of the sweetness of mundane life if only I choose to pay attention, and I wish that I can always be this mindful everyday of the things I have and the things I do.

So, this is how I have been spending my days. I drink iced black coffee, I eat words, I peel mandarins, I play solitaire and I scribble on my journal until the tip of my pen wears down and my handwriting is a cryptic alien code that only I can decipher. I'm writing a lot because I'm trying my best not to get too caught up in my own head. I’ve learned that sensitivity is a good thing. I care for people deeply and I experience joy with overwhelming intensity, but then again I experience sadness and shame with the same level of intensity, and sometimes it's too heavy and I don't want to shoulder it. With writing everything I’m feeling, I can observe these feelings as a neutral outsider. I like to pick apart my emotions and compartmentalize them, I’m an archivist in the library of my own psyche. I’m obsessed with understanding myself better by intellectualizing my feelings, raw and unprocessed, like dissecting an alien specimen, taking out an organ and slowly turning it around to see it clearly under the light.

I’m not perfect at this, but when I sense the brewing of a negative feeling and this familiar twist in my gut, I will try to fight for control over my emotions so that it won’t continue to nib at me. The first step is to confess what it exactly is that I’m feeling and the next is to categorize it into one of two groups: primary emotions, which are the raw emotions felt in direct response to something that just happened, or secondary emotions, the emotions that are felt about another emotion. Emotions are a funny thing. Primary emotions cannot be felt for more than 90 seconds at a time, but I have moments of such emotions being so intense that they overtake me and I lose mental clarity. On the contrary, I’ve had secondary emotions that I leave alone because they’re tiny and don’t bother me that much in the moment, but they will continue to trail after me like a pestering ghost, only to grow more bothersome. So, whenever I feel bad, I will take a step back and try to analyze my feelings. If I realize that it’s just a primary emotion, I will simply accept it and let myself feel the feelings out. If it’s a secondary emotion, I will deal with it by continuing to write.

I realize now that my anxieties and secondary emotions are mainly due to confusion, and keeping this all locked up inside my skull will just lead me to spiral. I'm trying this thing where if I feel confused about something, I will write about it blindly with no clear end goal. It doesn't matter to me what it is I'm saying in the moment, sometimes I can't even see anything but the blur of my hands moving, the violet ink of my pen. So long as I empty out my thoughts onto something external and separate from my body, the truth starts to take form to me like a person emerging from a landscape of mist.

I took a Cognitive Science class and something that I think about often is the Extended Mind hypothesis and the question of where exactly the mind ends and the world begins. While it may be easy to say that the boundary of the mind is the skull, this hypothesis raises that our mind is not confined solely to the brain but that it actually transcends beyond the human body and reaches out into the world through making use of external tools to perform better, cognitively. It’s like doing math without a pen and paper, where our mind’s capacity is limited and juggling symbols in the blackness makes us prone to mistakes. So we use this tool that exists outside of our body to offload information, and in doing so, this tool intertwines with and becomes part of our mental processes. That must mean that the tools we use are also part of our minds. I like this idea because it means that my journal is a part of my mind, almost an extension of me like a connected limb. I use it as a tool to help me navigate confusion over feelings of shame and anger and guilt, and I also like to copy fragments of information I’ve gathered from books and articles, unloading them like furniture in an extra storage unit. The comforting thing about it is that I can always go back to it and be reminded of things that I would have otherwise forgotten, all those important pieces of information I swore I wouldn’t forget but end up getting lost in the labyrinth of my mind. It’s as if some of my thinking is stored in this journal, taking the form of words and scribbles. It brings me solace to know that when I’m dead, a part of my mind will continue to live on in this earth.

[ha-youwish]

This is not a vent post, it’s a book recommendation and self-analysis kinda. Please consider reading this, I won’t blame you if you don’t.

Last year around this time, my granddaddy passed away. Usually, online and in formal spaces I would call him my grandfather, but that’s not what I call him and I will not limit myself for this post.

Last year around this time I was beginning my second semester of college ever. I was not doing so well. My grades were low because my attendance was abysmal and my work outside the class was shit. However the previous semester I had taken a class that I was able to stick around for more than the rest.

This class was studying how different major religions and cultures coped with death and how they thought of the afterlife. I bought the books for that class with financial aid and never read them.

Just now I got done reading one of the books, When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Harold S. Kushner, never read it until I found it sitting around today.

It’s a relatively short book, under 200 pages, about how Kushner deals with the question “Why do bad things happen to good people?” from his place as a rabbi.

Now I don’t have any sort of relationship with god. i’m not strictly atheist or anything but i tend to believe in whatever religion people want me to believe in if they ask me to pray for them or a family member.

when grandaddy died, i had nothing to fall back on. granddaddy was extremely religious and generous, i am so incredibly grateful he was involved in my life and there for me. but people from his church said it was a part of god’s plan or that there was a reason he passed when he did and when i was in such a low state at college already.

i moved away to college and the landlord sold my home. i was in an unfamiliar uncomfortable place where the only place i felt fully comfortable was now completely inaccessible. my mom moved in with grandaddy and took care of him before he passed. it was tense. he was kind but old and stubborn and so is everyone else. the drain of taking care of someone can be worth it, but that doesnt mean its not there.

i was, and am, dealing with severe depression surrounded by other gloomy people who didnt make it much better. i never went to class and i had, and have, crushing guilt that i was wasting the time and money of my family.

and then granddaddy went to the hospital. and then he died. and its unfair.

all of it is unfair, and if it was a part of gods plan then hes fucking unfair too.

now, i have not necessarily moved on. my fingers shake still if i think about it too long. i dont even know if im going to post this because of how exposed and raw i feel. but its important to me that somehow in some way this gets expressed and that someone other than myself will read it.

your suffering was unfair, whether it was a lot or a little. the world is unfair. we all know it. i hope you know that you will never be able to look into the eyes of someone who has never known suffering, and i hope you can find some comfort in that connection.

this book is from the point of view from a religious man. it talks a lot about a god i dont believe in. but the way it talks about suffering and how it effects people makes it helpful for me to parse my own feelings and thoughts.

so feel free to replace god with whatever you want, with humanity and spirit and the universe and everything good. here are some quotes, alt text included:

- sometimes i convince myself that what i feel is nothing more than chemicals, that the regret i feel from not driving home the day before and visiting before he passed was just something my mind is doing.

i once stayed up late at grandaddys house after he passed and i was shoved right back into school like my life hadnt just gotten its shit rocked.

my mom was in her room asleep, but i really couldn’t take it anymore. we stayed up late just talking through how we felt after i had cried to her. and to be completely honest, hearing that she had regrets and wished for just a little more time fucking sucked. knowing the people around you are going through it sucks, even if it was to be expected

but we connected over that long early morning. we resolved almost nothing. i felt the same as i did before and granddaddys still dead and buried. but it was easier to go on after that.

another quote, a tldr if you don’t want to read the book but want to understand what he gets at, in the end of it all.

i dont think i can forgive other people for being unfair, not without effort. but i think i can forgive the universe because the unfairness is proof that people have choices. shit happens, you choose what to do after it.

for a lot of people, mourning and religion bring them the strength to move on, as he talks about in the book. things dont get better because of prayer that god will fix everything or the universe will set itself right again or you can escape through fantasy books to another world,

they get better because something gives us strength to get up again and keep moving. to kushner, thats god and people who came together to support him. to me, i dont know yet, i dont know if i’ve really started to pick up my life yet. but i think this book helped me start to see the bigger picture

[lire-casander]

i hear your name in every word i say

surprise! i bet you didn't expect me to post today, did you? well, @wtfuckevenknows @moviegeek03 and @laelipoo did (because you're such enablers and you know it!), but i wanted to keep this as much a secret and a surprise as i could because i didn't know whether or not i could be able to post this in time.

special thanks go to @morganaspendragonss and @de-ligts for the fastest beta-reading in the whole world. you guys rock!

if you're reading on a computer, please roll over the spanish texts to find the translation. if you aren't and need translation, please let me know and i will do my best to come back to you with it asap!

the title and quote from last part of this story come from hanson's song every word i say. but there are more songs by them that have inspired me to write this story, especially underneath, a song to sing, save me, never let go, and with you in your dreams. if you've been around long enough, you probably know by now that they're my comfort band, and they've got a song for every single emotion out there. name one emotion, i can easily quote a hanson song back at you.

you will also find quotes from ronen and rafael's exclusive interview with entertainment weekly.

i hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as i've enjoyed (and cried) writing it. i started this without having watched the finale, so at some point it might be a bit off, but no matter what, this is what i would have liked the wedding and the vows to go. just like i did a couple of years back, this story is written for me. i've tried to convey all i felt while watching this season, discovering new sides of my favorite characters and facing some things, such as grief and pain and self-growth alongside them. sometimes a person needs to do something that's deeply and intrinsically for themselves.

this is one of those times.

i love you all. thanks for being here with me this time around, and here's for another revolution around the sun!

i hear your name in every word i say

masterlist of fics here

sitting all alone in this place

even though we're here face to face

there is nothing gone

but there's something wrong

can't you see that i'm stuck here underneath

TK never thought he’d be in this situation on his wedding day. If he’s being honest with himself, four years ago he wouldn’t have even believed he was worthy of love, much less worthy of being loved so much that someone might want to tie the knot with him. But it’s not the wedding he’s worried about. They’ve postponed everything on Carlos’ request, and they will find another venue and another date that’s not so close to Gabriel’s passing, so it doesn’t hold bad memories for Carlos and his family. He knows Carlos asking for a bit of time and space doesn’t mean he doesn’t love TK anymore; he’s grown confident enough in the love they share to be aware of that. But there’s more to it than just Carlos dealing with his feelings, and TK can’t help it.

He’s worried about Carlos. That’s what true love, soulmate-level love, does to a person.

When there’s an illness, the family has some time to get used to the idea. Not to accept it, because nobody’s wired to accept death without fighting it. But the little time the illness grants gives a little perspective, precious minutes to say goodbye, to honor that person. But when death falls upon people like a stone thrown into a river, there’s no time for anything but crying, no space for anything but anger.

TK knows it well.

Carlos hasn’t been sleeping at all. TK gets it — when his mother passed, he’d fallen into unhealthier patterns than not sleeping. But it’s one thing not to sleep a wink at night and then fall asleep briefly on the couch, and a completely different thing to not want to sleep. Gabriel’s loss is still recent, merely hours, not even a full day; it’s expected that his family won’t be able to function properly yet. But Carlos’ attitude is different. Carlos isn’t just angry.

Carlos is plotting vengeance.

And it’s not that TK doesn’t get it. He does; oh, boy, does he. It’s that he knows the toll it will take on Carlos’ soul — Carlos, who has never intentionally harmed anyone, is now planning an intervention, thinking about going full Rambo on some suspect they’re not even sure is the one behind the shooting. TK doesn’t know how to help his fiancé without causing more damage that could probably be permanent. He’s aware of the stubbornness of grief and the insanity of mourning.

Neither suits Carlos, but TK can’t do anything about it without breaking the trust that he’s promised to keep.

keep reading on ao3

[pure-kirarin]

Driving with One piece characters

Hey guys I wanted to write some blurbs and got carried away haha. This is only part 1 and I will make another part. I want to thank @donvampiro for her funny comments as well. Some were inspired by her ! Characters : Sabo - Ace - Law - Koby - Zoro - Usopp - Franky - Shanks - Kid

Sabo

-Tells you to drive slower but when he's driving alone he drives super fast and exceeds speed limitations. -Tries to give off a good example. Key word is "tries". -This man goes f a s t -Criticizes traffic laws all.the.time. When you get your driving licence he tells you the famous "Traffic laws are one thing, reality is another." -He is very protective of you. It's a bad idea to practice driving with Sabo. -He gets super anxious around you, I quote, "his baby" being on the streets with crazy people out there, driving without any sense of safety. -If he gets stopped for exceeding the speed, he accelerates and says “Please don’t do that Y/N.” -Fuck the authority.

Ace

-Honestly ? It's a miracle that this man got his driving licence. -Might fall asleep on the wheel. -Has many fake driving papers since they always get confiscated. -He was practicing driving without a licence since he was like twelve. -Failed the theoretical test six times. -Broadcasts music on maximum volume -Never learn to drive with this man, he is a public danger. -Never ever ask him why he did something, he drives by instinct. -He wouldn't be able to explain how to cross a roundabout "well...You just like...go in ya know ? Just like this, watch n' learn baby." -Learn what exactly ? To this day, it's still an unsolved mystery... -Almost runs into someone and his excuse is like “Oops ! sorry dude ! Didn’t see ya comin’ !” -Y/N : *stares with a judgemental look* Ace: What ? It’s not like I killed him or something ! And hey it wasn’t my fault he didn’t have to be there.

Law

-Drives a maserati -Amazing driving skills. -The perfect balance of knowing the traffic laws and having experience on the streets. -Parks the car perfectly in the parking space. -He WON’T park the car unless there is an identical distance [5 cm] from all the sides. He is a bit OCD not gonna lie. -Reminds you to put on your seat belt : safety comes first. -His tattooed fingers on the manual gearbox is honestly a kink I didn’t even know existed. -He changes the manual gearbox with a few fingers and that’s so fucking sexy. -This man runs on caffeine and doesn’t get enough sleep so he might doze off sometimes. -Never has music on when he drives and that makes him look like a psycho. If he puts on music, then it’s some kind of soft jazz.

Koby

-Respects traffic laws religiously. -Doesn't drive extremely slow and respects speed limitations. He never got a fine ! -If he ever got into an accident, it's 99% chances that it was the other driver's mistake. He still apologizes for it tho. -Learning to drive with Koby is somehow stressful, he gives good theoretical advice, but he is also very anxious when you're the one driving. -He warns you about a speed bump like 1 km before. -"Turn signal babe, don't forget the turn signal ! It tells the driver behind you your direction" the proceeds to tell you about the traffic laws for the 10th time in thirteen minutes.

Zoro

-This man doesn't have a driving licence. Giving him one would be creating a disaster. -If the stars were alined and he got a driving licence it was by some miracle -(or maybe the inspector was in a really good mood that day) -please don’t leave this man unsupervised. -Groans and honks the car horn at every single inconvenience. -That includes someone overtaking his car. -And of course the one we’re all waiting for : he gets lost even with GPS. He has 0 sense of orientation. -If you “learn” driving with this man, there are more chances that you’ll be the one teaching him. There is no learning to be done. -He's never on the streets without a sake flask.

Usopp

-”If God Usopp is the one teaching you to drive, you’ve got nothing to worry about !” with a thumbs up. -”And thaaaaaaat’s… how you get into an accident !” “Well, Usopp, I wasn’t trying to get into an accident you know…” -He gets really nervous whenever you’re the one driving “We are going to die, we are going to die, we are going to die. AHH ! slow down, slow down ! I’m never coming with you again.” -One good thing about driving with Usopp is that whenever you get arrested for exceeding speed or not following traffic laws he always finds a way to not pay the fine or get his licence confiscated. -And that’s by lying of course. “Didn’t you know that I am actually your boss’s cousin ? I’ll let it go this time because you’re new here.”

Shanks

-Reckless driver himself but gives amazing advice. -If you learn with this man, be prepared to become a blushing mess as he gets really touchy. -Guides your hand softly on the wheel when you’re turning and the turn is too tight. -”Relax doll, your hands are too stiff on the wheel. Driving is about confidence.” - charming smile. -Excuse me ? How to relax when you have Red hair Shanks as your special driving teacher ? -Whenever other people honk at you for being too slow, he lowers his window and goes “Easy on her ‘kay ? She’s still learning.” -”Good girl, that was a really good start. Soon you’ll drive even better than me !” -He is very encouraging and patient. He laughs it off whenever you make any mistake. -Knows the best shortcuts for any road !

Franky : -SUPPEEER good teacher. -He has the coolest car ever. He probably made it himself. -He always picks up people that do auto-stop. -Probably puts on some country music (don’t ask me why, I have no idea.) -Gives good advice and tips about parking your car perfectly. -Compliments other people’s driving skills and cars whenever he’s driving. -When you are the one driving, he makes sure to accommodate the seat to your size. -If you’re too small he adds a little cushion. -He is very chill and doesn’t stress you. Tells you that it’s normal to make mistakes when you’re a beginner. -Tears of pride when you get your driving licence from the first try !

Kid

-Refuses to put a seat belt on and his excuse is “It’s fucking squeezing my junk” -Another public danger is spotted. -And yet another fake licence holder. -Screams, honks, groans a lot. -He has no patience. -Broke the manual gear several times. -Whenever someone overtakes his car he sees it as some kind of threat or challenge. “I’m gonna show ya who drives faster, motherfucker.” -He basically teaches you how not to drive : how to exceed speed, how to overtake a car on the right, how to create a disaster. -Never stops at the “stop” sign. -takes so much space whenever he parks his car. He literally takes space for two cars. -Probably has a truck driving licence. Chances are he threatened the inspector to get it. -Louder for the people in the back : You're going nowhere with this man.

[kaeyasaki]

👀 — :; ass or tiddies

-> jjk characters and whether they’re more of an ass or tiddies luvvvrrr

-> an :; i luv tits but i’m more of an ass girl and this is my way of venting that out yes,, gn!reader because everyone has either nice ass or tiddies or <both3 all consensual behaviour

-> ft :; gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, nobara kugisaki, nanami kento + maki zenin

-ˏˋ gojo satoru ˊˎ-

greedy mf loves both. one is great but two is perfect. he doesn’t mind either to be honest but he’ll gladly take both options up if he can. he loves laying on your tits while you play with the hem of that stupid eye mask he wears, he’ll rant to you while looking up at you as he lays on your chest. he claims it’s his ‘comfort pillow’ and he absolutely needs to lay on them at least once everyday or he won’t be able to function. loves playing with them while the two of you are just laying down too. he doesn’t care what size they are, he just likes the feeling of your warm and soft flesh in his slightly calloused hands. as for your ass, he loves when you sit on his lap because you ass was made to fit his lap; he insists it was anyway. he 100% slaps your ass lightly whenever he walks past you too, he does it for both a reaction from you and because again, he likes the contact between his hand and your skin. loves resting his hand on it while you’re by his side and is shameless in squeezing it while out in public. keep your man on a leash, it’s what he deserves.

-ˏˋ itadori yuuji ˊˎ-

if you asked itadori for his physical type, you know he’s quoting ‘body’ by megan thee stallion. he doesn’t care much for sizing though, because your ass is great either way in his eyes. rather than just tapping your shoulder like a normal person, he’ll poke your ass to get your attention even though you tell he’s weird for it. he cant help it though, you’re really out here with an ass that nice? whats he supposed to do? like gojo, he also likes it when you sit on his lap because you just fit so nicely on there. his lap is ‘your throne’ as he tells you every time he has you sitting pretty on it. LOVES when you wear his sweatpants too because you look so good in them. they’re a little baggy because he’s a growing boy whose forever going to updating his wardrobe for sizing, but they still look good on you. the material always hugs and hangs in all the right places and he feels a sense of pride wash over him when he sees you wearing his sweatpants because your pretty ass is in them.

-ˏˋ fushiguro megumi ˊˎ-

he’s down bad for your tiddies for sure. it’ll take him a while to admit and display this admiration for them but eventually he’ll give and and show you that he loves laying on them and he likes holding them under your shirt too. they’re always warm and they ‘heat up his hands’. you could be laying in bed and he’ll crawl in next to you just to slide his hands up your shirt to hold them. he will fall asleep like that and his hands will absolutely stay attached to your pretty tiddies because your warmth is unmatched. he also loves burying his face in them. they’re for sure his favourite surface to lay on and he swears he could stay forever head buried in your chest. he honestly passes out whenever he’s really in contact with your chest, he can’t help it though. it’s not his fault they’re so soft and warm they’re practically inviting him to fall asleep whenever he’s somehow in contact with them. but, while he loves holding them, his favourite thing about them is the way they press up against his when you’re cuddled up to him. he gets both the warmth of your chest pressed up against him and the pleasure of getting to wrap his arms around you, it’s for sure his favourite position to hold you in.

-ˏˋ nobara kugisaki ˊˎ-

of course she loves both. a real baddie can appreciate both ass and tiddies to the max and nobara is no exception. loves laying her head on her ass while the two of you are laying down. she’ll be staring up at the ceiling ranting about how prices on the new balenciaga coat she wanted have gone up while he head is resting on your nice ass. she also likes being the big spoon sometimes because she’s obsessed with the way you perfectly slot into her figure, she is certain the two of your bodies are like a of set of lock and key. as for you tits, she also loves to bury her face in them, she’ll come in and find you laying on the bed onto the floor into your chest and remain there until she’s gained enough energy to sit up. if you play with her hair while she’s like this, it’s practically guaranteed she’ll fall asleep. she actually likes it when she passes out on your chest because she claims they’re always the best naps of her life whenever she does. also thinks everything you wear looks so good, they just sit so pretty she’ll always be shopping for you because she knows you’ll look good in all the shirts and such she’ll be buying you.

-ˏˋ nanami kento ˊˎ-

a refined man who has a weakness for ass. his go-to thing to grab for when he needs to destress. he loves kneading it gently and that’s great because not only does it help his destress but it’s relaxing for you too. he’s like your own personal ass masseuse which makes you the luckiest person in the world. to have the nanami kento weak for your ass is a huge accomplishment and it’s not like he can be blamed for it because it’s just so perfect. he likes it when you sit on his thigh, but when you’re facing sideways so you can lean into him. he likes this because not only can he see your pretty face, but he likes resting his larger hands on your ass while the other holds your waist in place. when the two of you are in bed to sleep, he’ll always have at least one hand on your ass because by now it’s natural instinct to just let it rest there. working with gojo is constantly stressful so it’s always mandatory his favourite de-stressor is always close to him which happens to be your ass. he’s always gentle with it though, that’s unless of course, you permit him otherwise.

-ˏˋ zenin maki ˊˎ-

tits. just tits. maki is obsessed with yours and she can’t be blamed. loves the way they press up against her when she holds you, but adores it when you hug her from behind and have them press up against her back. when she’s particularly tense from either stress or general tiredness, she appreciates it’s when you cuddle her from behind because she swears the knots in her back loosen immediately. that being said, she likes it when she’s laying on her stomach and you’re laying on her back with your chest resting on her too. they bring her a nice sense of both warmth and comfort and she looks forward to days where the two of you can just unwind and laze about together like this. when sleeping, maki likes being both the big and the little spoon, she’s totally adaptable especially because she knows she can be in contact with your chest both ways. big spoon maki likes it when you let her hug her arms around your chest and little spoon maki immediately relaxes at the feeling of them pressed against her. no matter what way the two of you fall asleep, maki can go to bed each night affirmed she’s going to sleep well.

[izukult]

little things with denki kaminari

happy birthday to my love. latest in this series here

—whenever one of you is listening to music, you always share earbuds (or at least offer). you have a shit ton of playlists for situations (bus rides with loser, people in class won’t stfu and we have to act like we care¿?, bored asf) etc. it’s also customary for you to have at least one song rec for each other a day.

—bro this motherfucker has bit you before? how odd.

—he really, really loves to talk. so no matter how talkative or how quiet you are, you two are constantly interrupting each other and it always makes him laugh.

—denki has no idea what to do when it comes to relationships. not one thought is running through that mans head and it shows. when you two first get together, he has genuinely no idea what to say. he’s smooth and casual when he’s not thinking about it, but the second he processes the fact he’s your boyfriend and he’s supposed to be boy friendly, he’s clueless.

—he literally quotes romance movies to try to sound cool. it’s so bad. he sounds awful. it’s horrible. it’s ugly. please, kaminari, i’m begging you. be quiet. it’s kinda cute tho tbfh

—also! he gets so flustered. he would never show you but like when you send a text that’s even remotely romantic he’s done for. that one video of the girl holding her phone to her chest and kicking the bed? that’s him tbh

—after every fight, near miss, or villain encounter all he ever wants to do is spend time with you. even if you’re both just sitting there silently, it calms him down so much.

—speaking of, he freaks out really easily. and he finds so much comfort in you. and he wants to do the same for you. he has a list of things he knows make you feel better. be like that for him or ur a fucking loser

—you’re a big motivator in his training. after all the shit he’s seen, he’s got a lot of valid fear and trauma. so he doesn’t want you to ever have to go through that type of thing, even if you were training to be a hero. he wants to be able to protect you, so he pushes himself super hard to learn how to channel his electricity.

—did you know kaminari skateboards? well, he does! and he is itching to teach you. you two love to go to this little park at night, only lit by street lights and the city. his hands are on your waist as you wobble on the board and he’s laughing at you. teaches you about footing and all the terms (“i’m not gonna be dating anyone who stands goofy, you hear me?” clearly he doesn’t actually give a shit.). once you’re pretty good, he buys you a board as a gift.

—denki is a pretty chill dude. he doesn’t get offended much and when he does he’s never really angry about it. but if someone even looks at you wrong he’s laughing almost politely and flicking his wrist back and commenting some snarky insult about that person not really to them but definitely loud enough for them to hear.

—he sneaks into your room every night to fall asleep with you. you fake being annoyed when he comes in and runs his mouth for fifteen minutes, but you don’t actually care. kaminari sleeps with his head covered in pillows, so i imagine he shoves his head into your neck or back, and wraps his arm completely around you once he actually falls asleep. very cuddly dude. once you complained about how it was too hot at night because of him, and instead of letting up he bought you a 75 dollar desk top power fan and told you problem solved.

—movie nights every thursday. you tried to argue it should be saturday for months, talking about sleep schedules and responsibilities the next morning but he does not care. it’s thursday’s, you will enjoy it. srz

—he unironically wants you guys to get one of those big shirts you can both wear. every time a birthday or holiday or anniversary comes up and you ask what he wants, he tells you that shirt. he begs for you to wear one with him. one time he was sobbing over something completely irrelevant and you asked him if there was anything that would make him feel better and through tears he said “big couple shirt” and cried harder when you said no.

—he wakes you up with a shitty pickup line every single morning. sometimes he looks them up, sometimes he makes up shitty ones specific to you.

—you two have matching bracelets. you made them together one night, he bought a bunch of beads and shit and insisted that you make them. he made yours, you made his. so yea basically you walk around with a shitty yellow and black bracelet that says denki (self projecting as i literally wear that bracelet right now)

—no matter where he is, he always makes sure a spot next to him is available for you, just incase you show up. he wants you to feel included and even if he’s silent about it, he makes sure you’re always comfortable.

—he makes you recreate funny couples photos all the time. like the reaction meme looking ones. his favorite (which is also his lock screen and his profile picture) is the one with that couple making out on the fence and the girls holding the guy up lol. also loves to take really uncomfortable ones that look like posed white people family photos and you’re both just doing thumbs up and standing too far away from each other.

—y’all are so funny for real. like constantly laughing, always having fun, just so comfortable?? such a good relationship i’m ngl would die for it

—he gets a star projector and makes you stare at it with him for hours. for the first thirty minutes he aggressively shushes you if you try to say anything. loves it.

—he’s really good at balancing being a good friend / conversationalist / person to be around and being affectionate. he’s pretty good at gauging what you need when you need it. he’s such a good boyfriend yea <33

[godoflobsters]

The Brothers and Dateables With a Tattoo Artist MC

My own MC was a tattoo artist before she came to the Devildom, so I thought I’d write up some head cannons with a tattoo artist MC.

MC is gender neutral!

Mammon

Nobody can convince me that the “Brothers Under a Pact” squad wouldn't be the first ones to get tattoos from MC, and Mammon would definitely be the first

Definitely likes to brag about it too

Don't remind him that there are countless people in the human realm that you tattooed before him or he will pout

People tend to think that Mammon is cheap and would try to talk you into giving him free or cheap tattoos, but he couldn't stand to be like that towards you especially regarding something that you’re so good at

Our first man works his butt off every time he wants to get some new ink from you

Likes to give you a big ole tip every time

Gets fidgety when he has to sit still for too long so you two have to take breaks often

Prefers small/medium sized tattoos rather than really big ones

One time after he started getting tattoos from you, he was at a modeling gig and they tried to make him cover them up with makeup, he quit and that magazine went bankrupt not too long after...dont fuck with the avatar of greed

Once your shop starts taking off in the Devildom, he and Asmo try to convince you to do a shoot for Majolish(They definitely didn't pull some strings to get Majolish to do a whole segment about you and your business)

Beelzebub

The second brother to get a tattoo from MC

Refuses to get any food related tattoos: he doesn't want to accidentally take a chunk out of himself when he gets blinded by his hunger

This man has a very high pain tolerance and sits like a rock while you're tattooing him and you love him for it

He definitely needs snack breaks during longer sessions though

Has a memorial tattoo for Lillith over his heart that matches with one on Belphie

While making this list I was randomly blessed with the mental image of Beel with abuncha old school American traditional tattoos and you can pry that headcannon from my cold, dead hands

Mammon likes to brag that he has the most tattoos from you, but Beel might give him a run for his money, he doesn't mind Mammon’s bragging most of the time though, so he just lets him believe whatever he wants this time

Simeon

But Simeon has never been all that great at following the rules that they set for him

The first of the dateables to get a tattoo

He wasn't actually planning on getting a tattoo at first, but one day he overheard Luke trying to scold you for all of your tattoos(definitely before the incident with Beel and Lucifer in the underground tomb) and that was the only push he needed to jump on the “tattoos from MC” train

There is a lot of rhetoric in the Celestial Realm about how “Your body is a temple and you should not mark it”

He’s still not willing to stray too far from his roots though, so he’d probably get something with vaguely religious undertones

Absolutely delights in the shocked look on your face and the sheepish questions on whether angels are allowed to do this

Once he’s finally convinced you that you're not damning him to fall by tattooing him, the process goes by very easily

He is very easygoing and open regarding designs and he handles the pain very well

He absolutely loves to show his tattoo off, even when he goes home to the Celestial Realm and receives his reprimands from Michael

Leviathan

The third brother to get a tattoo from MC

Didn't want to get a tattoo at first, all of that physical contact and pain on top of it? No way

But then Mammon, Beel, and even Simeon all got one and he got jealous

You're HIS Henry, why are THEY the ones who get to wear your art? He might’ve been able to deal with his dumb brothers, but SIMEON TOO?

You gotta sit down with him and have a nice long chat about it, making sure this is something that he would actually want to do and not just his envy talking

Spoiler alert: It was definitely just his envy talking

He realises that he is actually oddly attached to the idea of getting a tattoo from you now though, so he comes up with designs and draws them on himself until he is certain that he won't regret it

Would get something tiny and probably gaming related

Definitely very squeamish about the pain aspect but the design that the two of you came up with is very simple and small, so he is able to make it through without fainting

He absolutely loves his new tattoo...but he is never doing that again

Belphegor

Fourth brother to get a tattoo

Has wanted to get one ever since Beel showed him the tattoo he got in memory of Lillith, but things were very...not good...between the two of you at that point

Finally worked up the courage to at least ask if you would be okay with it after the two of you made a pact

Beel, forgetting his super high pain tolerance, told him that it getting a tattoo doesn't hurt at all, so he was in for a big surprise when he went under the needle for the first time

Whiny at first, but he manages to stay very still for you

Has a memorial tattoo for Lilith over his heart that matches with one on Beel

Will definitely start to doze off during long sessions

Convinced Satan to get a matching Anti Lucifer League tattoo with him(definitely doesn't try to convince you to get one too)

Make sure that he does not, under any circumstances, actually fall asleep while you're tattooing him. He did once and he rolled over in his sleep, almost ruining an entire tattoo

Ever since that time, Beel has come with him to his sessions so you could focus on your work and he can focus on keeping Belphie awake

Satan

Gets his tattoo not long after Belphie

One of those people that think every tattoo needs to mean something so he takes forever trying to pick out something that he wants

Would probably get some sort of quote or design inspired by his favorite book, something that really resonated with who he is as a person

Was somehow convinced by Belphie to get an Anti Lucifer League tattoo

Does he regret it whenever he realizes that he now has a portion of his skin dedicated to Lucifer of all people? Possibly, but he definitely won't say anything about it to you

Loves to look at you and just admire your tattoos, asking the stories behind each and every one of them that he can see

He might be a bigger fan of literature than the fine arts, but that doesn't mean that he has any less of an appreciation for your work

Definitely pulls some strings and gets one of his friends who owns an art gallery to display some of your work there

Can set you up with all the connections that you need to make your mark on the Devildom art world

Lucifer

The last of the brothers to get a tattoo

In the beginning he has no intentions of getting a tattoo, he does have alot of respect for your talents and how hard you work for them though

As an art lover and artist himself, he will most certainly commission you from time to time and hang your work in his study

He won't admit it, but seeing your art and thinking of you when he's stressed with work is very soothing

He eventually decides to let you tattoo him only if it’s in a place that is easily covered by his clothes, considering how he dresses that leaves you with pretty much his entire body to work with

Sometimes when he has some time off he will grab a sketchbook and join you if he finds you in the common room working on a design, you share a comfortable silence, with the only sounds be the crackling of the fireplace and the scratching of pencils on paper

The kind of person that wants a tattoo but has no idea what he actually wants, but hes picky as fuck so he will turn down every single idea that you give him for weeks

He is lucky that you love him

Whenever you two talk about placements, if you mention anything on his back to cover up the scars from his wings he will almost back out entirely

Almost

Afew months later he’ll put his pride aside come back, admitting that your ideas would be perfect and that he wants to go through with it

During the session he has way too much pride to admit that he was feeling any pain

That is until you have to start going over the scars

As soon as the needles hit scar tissue he starts to fall apart; tears, shaking, the whole nine yards

It takes you quite a few sessions to finish since he cant handle such long sessions on that portion of his back

The summer after his new back piece is finished, he goes with you and his brothers back to Diavolo’s beach, this time he takes his shirt off in front of everyone for the first time since the fall

He wears your art with such pride that he lets everyone keep the memory, he even lets Asmo keep the pictures he took of all of them up on Devilgram

Diavolo

Wanted to be the first to get a tattoo but Barbatos said no

If you want to continue your career in the Devildom for the duration of your stay, he will buy you a building to work from and any supplies to get started since you had to leave your stuff in the human realm

Diavolo has rooms in the castle filled with the art that he's collected over the years, so when he sees that you're an artist he gets so excited

Before he finally gets tattooed by you, he buys a lot of your artwork and hangs it up around the castle

It takes a few years to propose the idea again to Barbatos in a way that wont make the butler’s hair fall out from stress, but he finally relented under one condition: it has to be in an area that is still hidden while he’s in his demon form

He decides that his legs would be the perfect place to indulge in your artistic talents while also keeping Barbatos’s controlling side at bay

Hes another one that knows he wants a tattoo but no clue what he wants to get

Unlike Lucifer though, he is a true open canvas

He truly adores your art so he wholeheartedly trusts you with his body and knows that he will love anything that you do for him

He knows that this is most likely very nerve wracking for you considering his position so he tries to reassure you and make the process very easy for you

You still put everything into designing him something fit for a king

He’s the type to prefer large pieces that span over entire sections of his body rather than abuncha small/medium sized ones

Another fidgetter, he’s really not all that accustomed to pain so he doesn't have a high tolerance for it

Likes to treat you to dinner at Ristorante Six after each of his sessions

Tips like the absolute king he is, you could probably pay a couple months of rent back at your apartment in the Human Realm just from his tip

Once his tattoo is finally finished and healed, he will find every excuse that he can think of to invite you and the brothers on outings to places where he is free from scrutiny to wear shorts and show off your artwork

Barbatos

The last of all of the boys to get a tattoo

It was a complete shock to everyone when he came to you and asked if he could make an appointment to get tattooed by you

“Everyone” being you, Diavolo, and Lucifer because nobody else knows that it happened and he would like to keep it that way

Another member of the “I’ll get one as long as it’s somewhere nobody will see” club...so basically not his face

Before the two of you get to talking about designs, you expect him to go with something small and simple, maybe an elegant little teapot or something along those lines

Then this man comes to his consultation and throws you for a loop talking about a sleeve

Very picky, he has high standards for himself and what's on his body

Knows exactly what he wants but does his best not to stifle your creativity during the design process

You learn ALOT about just who lurks behind Barbatos’s mild-mannered butler facade during his sessions, he’s surprisingly upfront and honest whenever you have him under the needle

Solomon

Can't get a tattoo

This man has pact marks for 72 demons all over his body, there is simply no more room

Any open space he has is being saved just in case any other demons *cough* Lucifer *cough* ever decide to come around to making a pact

Collects your flash and hangs it up around his room

If you take Diavolo up on his offer to set up a shop in the Devildom, he will make sure to tell all of his pact-mates about you, hype up your work, and get you a lot of business in the door

Sometimes he will commission art from you and use magic to make your art temporarily appear on his skin over the pact marks

Once you become a sorcerer and have a better grasp on your magic, he helps you experiment in creating magical inks and enchanting tattoos

Asmodeus

The only one that actually doesn't want to get a tattoo

He doesnt think that tattoos would fit in very well to the image that he has for himself

And not being able to show off every inch of his beautiful skin while its healing is a no from him

Since he likes to test out his new makeup and skincare products on you, sometimes after he has had his way with your face he will let you draw on him with skin safe markers

would definitely be a wimp about the pain

Will spam pictures to his Devilgram of his fancy new temporary tattoos and you drawing on him

Will definitely try to bring you some of his flings to get his name tattooed on them, you will have to reprimand him every single time and eventually he will stop

If you're not the type to keep up with social media, he’ll offer to keep up a Devilgram account for your shop

If you're ever attempting to draw and you have a very specific pose in your head that you can't find a reference for, he will not hesitate to get up and start posing for you

Luke

He is baby and cant have any tattoos until he's older

His mind frequently bounces back and forth between the whole “your body is a temple” rhetoric that he was taught growing up and “wow that's so cool!”

After Simeon got his tattoo Luke became a lot more enthusiastic and curious about your job though

Will occasionally ask if he can have one of your flash sheets so he can color your pictures

These very often end up on the fridge in Purgatory Hall

Sometimes they even make their way to the fridge in the House of Lamentation too

Will this make the brothers jealous? Yes. Do you care? No.

Luke loves you and looks up to you so much that he goes through a little phase of wanting to copy you, yourself and the entirety of Purgatory Hall can expect loads of temporary marker tattoos

[mosswillow]

Your room (Dark!Peter Parker x Reader)

Word count 3.3k

!!!!! This is dark! And explicit 18+ only !!!!!

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, oral (female receiving), spankings, punishment, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, smut, vaginal intercourse.

Summery: Your life is bland and boring but not for long. What happens when you catch the eye of a certain super hero?

Your room has always reflected you as a person. In highschool you haphazardly filled the walls with quotes and posters. Your room was messy in the typical way teenagers rooms tend to be, but also like a typical teenager was filled with feeling and hope. In college you filled your space with pictures of you and your friends taken on a polaroid camera. Everywhere you looked had your life staring back at you. Now as an adult the pictures from college are tucked away in a box. Your room is simple and boring. Most people think of you as minimalist but you don’t do it to be trendy, you just have no passion. You’ve spent the years after graduating college working a job you hate in a lab, running the same tests over and over again. You’ve always wanted to be a scientist, working on something new and exciting. You’ve applied everywhere but you rarely even get an interview. Your dreams, unfortunately, will never happen for you. Sometimes you wish for someone to swoop in and take you for your bland life but you know that will never happen. Watching your friends get dream jobs and buy homes while you waste away has crushed your spirit. You’re tired.

---

“Hey Y/N, we’re going out tonight.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, you never come with us.”

“Ok sure.”

Your coworker is right that you never go out anymore and so several hours later you walk into a bar, grabbing a drink and finding your coworkers. The bar is bustling with activity and you lose track of time. You usually curl up in bed with a book on a friday night but you’re glad you came. You used to go out all the time in college and miss being social. Going out is good for your mental health and you decide to make more of a point to spend time with people.

You say goodbye to your still partying co-workers and head home a little past midnight. You start your walk and cut through an alleyway, wanting to get home before you vomit from the alcohol.

“Hey sweetheart. What are you doing all alone out here?”

A large man steps out of the shadows and walks toward you. You ignore him, keeping your eyes focused ahead and pick up the pace.

“Oi, I’m talkin’ to you,” He lunges forward and grabs your arm.

“Let me go.” You try to walk away but he holds onto you still, pushing you against the wall and landing a bruising kiss on your lips. His breath smells rancid and you feel bile rise in your throat. You cry out for help and the man is suddenly pulled away from you. You watch with disbelief as Spider man throws the stranger against the opposing wall.

“She said to go away buddy.”

The man slowly stands up and runs away. Spider Man shoots a web at the running stranger and he falls over, immobilized.

“You ok?” Spider Man turns to you, cocking his head.

“Yes, thank you Spider Man.”

“I’ll come check on you tomorrow”

You watch spider man pick up the stranger like he’s nothing and swing away. You walk the rest of the way home and lie in bed, unable to fall asleep. The next morning there’s a tap on your window and you look out to see Spider Man on your fire escape. You briefly wonder how he knows where you live but quickly brush off the thought and open your window.

“You sure you’re ok?” He steps towards you, looking you over.

“Just a little shaken up.”

He walks to your kitchen, filling a glass of water and handing it to you.

“This is too much, really I’m fine. You already saved me.”

“Drink the water,” He commands.

You sigh and drink it.

“That’s a good girl. Now get back to bed.”

You set the glass down and stare at the stranger you let in your home. Alarm bells start ringing.

“I’d like you to leave.”

“I’ll leave once I know you’re doing as you're told.”

Your heart beats rapidly and you take a step back.

“I appreciate that you saved me and came to make sure that I’m fine but I’m now asking you to please go.”

Spider man crosses his arms.

“I’ll call the cops” you say.

“And say what?”

“That there’s an intruder.”

Spider man sighs and walks to your window, standing at it.

“Get in bed and I’ll go.”

You walk to your bed and get under the covers.

“Good girl. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

As soon as he’s through the window you jump out of bed and lock every door and window, double checking your work. You get back in bed and let out a sigh of relief, finally able to sleep.

You wake up to tapping on your window. Spiderman is back. You make your way to the window but don’t open it.

“Let me in.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with you in here.”

Spider Man shakes his head and leaves without a word.

The next few weeks are filled with anxiety. You see flashes of red in your peripheral vision everywhere you go. Spider man is stalking you. You consider telling police but don’t think they’ll believe you. It sounds crazy, even to you. If it weren't for the bruises from the assault in the alleyway you would think you had imagined the whole thing. You stop leaving your apartment unless necessary and never go out after dark.

You get a voicemail one day.

“HI, this is Rebecca Johnson from Stark Industries. We’re looking for someone to fill a position in one of our labs. You had submitted an application previously and we wanted to reach out and see if you’d like to interview for the position. Please call back at your earliest convenience.

You squeal in delight, doing a celebratory fist pump. Stark industries is a dream job. You immediately hit redial and set up the interview. This would change everything. Just one year working at Stark would open up endless possibilities for you and that’s if you ever want to leave. You could afford a nicer apartment with more security. Maybe you will finally feel safe. You remind yourself that it’s just an interview and you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself.

---

You look up at the tower and take a deep breath. It’s intimidating, going for an interview at Stark tower. It’s been so long since you’ve interviewed anywhere let alone somewhere so big. You tug at your blouse, second guessing your outfit, maybe you should have worn something different. It’s too late to go back home and change. You walk in, mustering up all the courage you can and talk to the woman at the front desk.

“Hi, I’m here for an interview. Y/N Y/L/N”

“Oh yes, they’re expecting you. Here’s a temporary badge. Go to the 80th floor and take a seat.”

You take the badge and follow the instructions. You’re surprised to find yourself in what looks like private quarters. There’s a small couch near the elevator and you sit and wait.

Tony Stark himself appears in front of you and your mouth flies open. You stand quickly and hold your hand out.

“Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Tony looks you up and down, clicking his tongue.

“Likewise, follow.”

You half walk, half run behind him, getting in the elevator and taking it down a floor. You arrive at a state of the art lab and workshop and Tony leads you to a desk.

“The whole workshop will be open to you. This is your desk.”

He starts walking again and you keep following him back to the elevator and to another floor.

“Here’s where you’ll live. I’ll leave you with the contract and you can call my assistant if you have any questions.”

He hands you a tablet and walks out.

You look around the room dumbfounded. You thought you were just here for an interview. You guess this means you got the job. You swipe through the contract and your eyes widen at your salary. There are a few things that make you uncomfortable though. You’re required to live on site and there’s a curfew. You have to sign a NDA about anything you see in the tower. You also can’t decide to quit without permission, which you’re not sure is even legal. You call the number to Tony’s assistant.

“This is Rebecca.”

“Hi, this is Y/N. I’m looking through this contract and it says I have to live on site and there’s a curfew?”

“Yes. That is non negotiable. Living on site will give you access to the workshop 24/7. There will be times when you will work through the night. The curfew is for security as the tower is locked down every night.”

You would rather have your own place where you can come and go as you please but you’re willing to live here if you have to and the reason for a curfew makes sense. The tower has top of the line security, which is something that’s really important to you. You don’t usually go out late anyway and if you do decide to be out late you can crash at a friends house or get a hotel room.

“And the avengers? Will I have to work closely with them?”

“You might meet them or see them at some point but most likely not.”

“I know this sounds weird but I don’t want Spider man to know I’m working here.”

“Mums the word.”

“What exactly will the job entail? I see there’s a NDA.”

“You’ll be an assistant in Tony Stark's personal workshop and will work closely with him. He appreciates privacy.”

“I see, and the part where I’m not allowed to quit?”

“He just wants to make sure you’re serious. Tony picks his assistants personally and requires loyalty.”

“Ok, thank you.”

You hang up and sign the screen. When you open the door there's a man standing outside. He’s not a tall man, standing a few inches taller than you. However, he is muscular and something about him commands attention. You feel an immediate pull towards him.

“Oh, hi I’m Peter Parker.” He holds out his hand.

“I’m Y/N”

“I also work with Tony and live right next to you. I’ll be your direct boss.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Parker.”

“Peter is fine. I won’t keep you any longer, I just wanted to introduce myself.”

You immediately get to work rearranging your life. By the end of the weekend you’re completely moved into your new place and on monday you start your first day on the job. It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of, full of state of the art technology and free reign to do whatever you want. You walk into work every day with a smile.

You work alone most of the time, Tony and Peter working awkward, sporadic hours but you enjoy it when you do get to work with them. Tony is funny and brilliant, you learn more from him than from any college class. Peter is smart and sweet. He helps you with your work and makes sure you’re always taken care of, sending you back to your room if you’ve been working too long or making you take breaks to eat. You find yourself starting to develop feelings for Peter and your heart swells when he asks you on a date. Life is good and only getting better.

You meet Peter outside of your door and he takes your hand. The two of you walk to a little italian restaurant and Peter takes your menu, ordering your food for you. It’s very forward for a first date but you like the confidence. After dinner he walks you back to your door and kisses you. You see something in his eyes when he pulls away, possessive and dark. It makes you feel uncomfortable but also excited. Nobody has ever looked at you like that.

Over the next few weeks Peter becomes more and more comfortable around you, becoming more physical. It’s small things, like pushing your hair back when talking or touching you gently as he walks past. He asks you out again, this time wanting to cook you dinner and you decline, suggesting a coffee date instead. You don’t feel comfortable enough with him to be alone in his room. He clenches his jaw when you tell him, obviously upset you won’t come over but agrees.

A few days later you decide to go out with some old friends and crash on one of their couches. When you get home the next day Peter is standing outside your door.

“You missed curfew.”

“I know, I went out with friends and crashed on one of their couches.”

Peter clenches his jaw.

“Don’t let it happen again.”

“It shouldn't matter if I want to stay the night somewhere else.”

“Well it does.”

You roll your eyes and unlock your door quickly, locking it behind you. The two of you have only been on one date. His behavior is a red flag and you decide to take things slowly.

The next day you decide to go out for coffee, pulling on a simple tee shirt dress and some flip flops. The elevator won’t let you down.

“Your privileges have been revoked.” Peter says from behind you.

You jump. “Why?”

“You know why.”

He stalks toward you, pushing you up against the elevator.

“I don’t feel comfortable with this Peter. You need to back away from me now.”

Peter takes a step back.

“I’m sorry but right now I don’t want any sort of relationship outside of work.”

“That’s not going to work for me.”

Something in Peter's eyes terrifies you. You need to get out of here. You try the elevator again but it still won’t open.

“I quit.” you yell at the elevator, feeling more danger every second you’re stuck in the hallway with Peter.

“You can’t quit baby.”

“There’s no way it’s legal to force me to keep working even if it’s in the contract.”

“There’s nowhere to go. You’re not getting out of this building and even if you did you’d have to find a lawyer to take your case.”

“You can’t do this, I'll tell Tony.”

“Who do you think suggested this in the first place? Most of the Avengers have gotten their partners this way. I was waiting for the right person and I knew you were them the moment I saw you.”

“Why would Tony help you trap me here? You’re just a lab assistant.”

“Oh no honey, I’m much more than that.”

He steps toward you, caging you in.

“You think it’s a coincidence I saved you in that alleyway?”

“Spider man?”

Peter gives a grin. He leans in and smells your hair.

“No.”

“I’m sorry it’s happening this way, I wanted to break you down slower. You’ll have a really good life, we’ll live together and work together. You’ll have everything you could need or want.”

“I want to leave.”

“You’ll change your mind, you just need a little motivation.”

Peter pulls you to his room and opens the door, pushing you into his apartment. You try to run but he easily catches you, picking you up and throwing you on his bed.

“Why are you doing this? Why me?” you scrabble to the far side of the bed.

“You’re mine.”

Peter's phone rings and he picks it up.

“Hey, yes I did... I know It wasn’t the plan, I had to improvise… Ok, see you in a few weeks.”

He hangs up and gets on top of you. you spit in his face.

“I’m not yours freak. Let me go.”

“You won’t be allowed to act like that moving forward. Now lie still.”

“Get off of me.”

Peter gets off briefly, flipping you over his lap and pulling up your skirt. He lands a smack on your bottom.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this. You’ve been so bad baby.

“Not letting me in your apartment.”

Smack.

“Telling Rebecca you didn’t want me to you started working here.”

Smack

“Staying out all night.”

Smack.

“Shutting the door in my face.”

Smack.

“I liked you Peter, If you had just acted like a normal person we could have continued a relationship.” You say through tears.

“I don’t want a relationship, I want to own you.”

He lands another blow on your bottom and grabs your underwear, pulling them down and off of you. You try to wiggle away but he’s so strong and easily holds you down with one arm. He moves his hand between your legs and towards your sex, pushing a finger in and out.

“You’re wet for me.” He says smugly.

You close your eyes and turn your head away. You’ve stopped resisting and he lets go.

“There you go.”

He kisses your neck and cheek then grabs your chin moving your face and kissing you gently, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He pulls back and you hear him unbuttons his pants, pulling them down. You open your eyes and move away from him, pushing your back against the headboard. You watch as he holds his erection, slowly moving his hand up and down. He moves towards you and grabs your ankle, pulling you down the bed and positioning himself in between your legs. He holds onto your hips and kisses your inner thigh, moving toward your mound until his mouth is on your clit, kissing and licking. You arch your back and throw your head back, fighting against the rising orgasm. Right before you come he pulls back, smiling up at your dazed face. He rises up and slowly pushes his dick into you until you’re full. You whimper as he brings his hand down to your clit, stimulating it.

“That’s right baby,I know what you like.”

You can’t think about anything else anymore, only the orgasm that threatens to take over.

“Come Baby”

You reach out, grabbing his arms as you come. He grabs your shoulders and thrusts deep, filling you with cum before collapsing next to you, pulling you into the crook of his arm.

“Can I go back to my room now?” you ask.

“You won’t be leaving this room until I can trust you.”

“I won’t say anything. You won. You got what you wanted so just let me go.”

“You still don’t get it Y/N. You’re mine now. I know this is a hard adjustment but everything will be fine as long as you follow what I say.”

“And if I don’t obey you?”

“You’ll be punished.”

“Fuck you.”

Peter sits up next to you, grabbing his pants off the floor and pulling his belt out of the loops.

“I guess your first lesson starts now.”

---

You look around the room you live in. It’s no longer the empty minimalist space it was before you met Peter. Now it’s filled with him. Everywhere you look there are reminders of him. The shower has his body wash and razor. There are pictures of him hanging on the walls. Everything you own has been bought for you by Peter. He dictates what you’re allowed to wear, where you’re allowed to go, who can talk to. It’s all him. Every part of your life revolves around Peter to the point where you don’t know what you would do without him. You wake up to him, go to sleep to him, think about him constantly. You’re even sometimes woken up in the middle of the night to him touching you, wanting you. At some point you stop pretending you don’t want him back. You hate it but it’s true.

Your room has always been a reflection of you as a person.

[crash-cinematic-universe]

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 

1. 

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 

“That would be nice,” He said softly. 

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 

2. 

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

3. 

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

 “What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.” 

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 

 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

4.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

5.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

[pebbsie]

hiii Pebbs my dear! can i ask the following for the OC asks? i also tried to pick one from each category, hehe:

😭🍩🍃✏️☁️💚

thank you so much Lale, sorry these all ended up so much longer then I meant them too, but I had to much fun answering them ♡❀

😭 - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

Shes somewhat like Franky when he hears a touching story and starts sobbing uncontrollably but instead of overflowing tears she’ll have tears in the corners of her eyes, some may roll down her cheeks depending on how bad and/or moving what someone said was. When it comes to her own personal feelings it takes a lot of pushing for her to finally break, and she doesn’t like full on crying in front of people, but Shanks will put his cloak around her and usher her somewhere where they can be alone and she can feel comfortable to cry and they’ll talk about what’s bothering her

🍩 - favourite sweet treat?

She loves macarons, it’s the one good she didn’t have to quit when she developed an allergy to wheat. If she’s especially craving sweets, she likes ones that have a thicker layer of cream in the centre, her favourite flavours are lavender, green tea and chamomile with honey, she especially loves to enjoy them with a nice hot tea as well, though she doesn’t like any sugar in her tea at all… she doesn’t want the sweetness to take away from the flavour of the tea

🍃 - do they enjoy being in nature? what is their favourite outdoor activity?

She loves to be out in nature, when the Red Force reaches a new island often Shanks will take her out to look through the plant life, he loves seeing her devil fruit at work, she’ll study new plant life closely and despite being able to sprout the herbs for the ship, she loves to collect them… loving the fun of gardening and watching her plants grow on their own without using her devil fruit though she does have to use it sometimes like when Yasopp accidentally overwatered her cactus she’s able to revive the plants giving them the nutrients they need so she’s never to fussed, though she did end up writing a plant care guide for the men

✏️ - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

This one had me stumped for a bit, I ended up picking three quotes of flowers I felt resonated with my insert, her deep love of plants and people, she would use plants for metaphors and a way to express deeper meanings of life and advice to people, makes her even more of the flower maiden

“Flowers always make people better, happier and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul.”

“Even the tiniest of flowers can have the toughest roots.”

“In joy and in sadness, flowers are our constant friends.”

☁️ - a soft headcanon

When all the crew is past out drunk and if no one is up or sober enough to help her carry everyone to their beds, she’ll get some blankets and pillows, making sure everyone is covered and has something comfy under their head, they’re her found family so she loves them dearly and wants to take care of them, will also make breakfast that morning or most likely afternoon due to them drinking so late, they will be most likely be sleeping in. The crew is kind of like a bunch of big brothers to her except for Shanks and will return the favour, though she isn’t drunk she will sometimes fall asleep in her herbalist workshop at her desk, she gets so into her studies that she’ll end up resting her arms on the table and laying her head on them, meaning to rest for a moment but ends up falling asleep, to which they’ll cover her with a blanket, if it’s Shanks he’ll just carry her back to their shared room

💚 - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

When Shanks pulls her into his lap, wrapping his cloak around her, she feels safe and warm in his embrace, if there’s something specific on her mind Shanks won’t push her to talk but encourage her to be open with him and let her know he’s there to listen when she’s ready. Sometimes she can’t pinpoint why she’s feeling this way, sometimes it’s just her depression, which either way Shanks is there holding her close whispering sweet nothings to her. If she’s out with the rest of the crew if she’s feeling down simply leaning against Shanks and hearing the laughter of the men and their overall conversations helps ease he heart a bit, Benn will bring her a cup of hot tea while Lucky makes her some macarons or if she doesn’t want something sweet some sashimi, while Yasopp tells her stories trying to get her to laugh, all the while she’s sitting on Shanks lap, the red haired man holding her close and letting her know how loved she is on that ship

[firstfullmoon]

what are some quotes that are so visceral they feel like a gut punch to you?

“A man's heart is a wretched, wretched thing. It isn't like a mother's womb. It won't bleed. It won't stretch to make room for you.”

— Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns

“At the trial of God, we will ask: why did you allow all this? And the answer will be an echo: why did you allow all this?”

— Ilya Kaminsky, “A City Like a Guillotine Shivers on Its Way to the Neck”

“I want someone to tell me what to wear in the morning. I want someone to tell me what to wear every morning. I want someone to tell me what to eat, what to like, what to hate, what to rage about, what to listen to, what band to like, what to buy tickets for, what to joke about, what not to joke about. I want someone to tell me what to believe in, who to vote for, and who to love, and how to tell them. I just think I want someone to tell me how to live my life, Father, because so far I think I’ve been getting it wrong.”

— Phoebe Waller-Bridge, from Fleabag

“Les femmes de notre famille, nous sommes engluées dans la colère J’ai été en colère contre ma mère Tout comme tu es en colère contre moi Et tout comme ma mère fut en colère contre sa mère Il faut casser le fil.”

(The women in our family are all stuck in anger I have been angry at my mother As you are angry with me And as my mother was angry at her mother The thread must be broken.)

— Wajdi Mouawad, Incendies

“I know what I want: an ugly, clean woman with large breasts, who tells me: what’s all this about making things up? I won’t have any dramas, come here immediately!—And she gives me a warm bath, dresses me in a white linen nightdress, braids my hair and puts me to bed, very cross, saying: well what do you want? you run wild, eating at odd times, you could get sick, stop making up tragedies, you think you’re such a big deal, drink this mug of hot broth. She lifts my head up with her hand, covers me with a big sheet, brushes a few strands of hair off my forehead, already white and fresh, and tells me before I fall asleep warmly: you’ll see how in no time your face is going to fill out, forget those harebrained ideas and be a good girl. Someone who takes me in like a humble dog, who opens the door for me, brushes me, feeds me, loves me severely like a dog, that’s all I want, like a dog, a child.”

“I can feel myself holding a child, thought Joana. Sleep, my child, sleep, I tell you. The child is warm and I am sad. But it is the sadness of happiness, this appeasement and sufficiency that leave the face placid, faraway. And when my child touches me he doesn’t rob me of my thoughts as others do. But later, when I give him milk with these fragile, beautiful breasts, my child will grow from my force and crush me with his life. He will distance himself from me and I will be the useless old mother. I won’t feel cheated. But defeated merely and I will say: I don’t know a thing, I am able to give birth to a child and I don’t know a thing. God will receive my humility and will say: I was able to give birth to the universe and I don’t know a thing.”

— Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart

“I know that my phrases are crude, I write them with too much love, and that love makes up for their faults, but too much love is bad for the work.”

“I’m restless and harsh and despairing. Although I do have love inside me. I just don’t know how to use love. Sometimes it tears at my flesh.”

“But when winter comes I give and give and give. The excess of me starts to hurt and when I’m excessive I have to give of myself.”

— Clarice Lispector, Água Viva

“And that was what I felt when reading your book: that solitude.” “Imagine the solitude of the person who wrote it.”

— Clarice Lispector, from an interview

“suppose the body did this to us, made us afraid of love—”

— Louise Glück, “Crater Lake”

“When I put my hands on your body, on your flesh, I feel the history of that body. Not just the beginning of its forming in that distant lake, but all the way beyond its ending. I feel the warmth and texture and simultaneously I see the flesh unwrap from the layers of fat and disappear. I see the fat disappear from the muscle. I see the muscle disappearing from around the organs and detaching itself from the bones. I see the organs gradually fade into transparency, leaving a gleaming skeleton, gleaming like ivory that slowly resolves until it becomes dust. I am consumed in the sense of your weight, the way your flesh occupies momentary space, the fullness of it beneath my palms. I am amazed at how perfectly your body fits to the curves of my hands. If I could attach our blood vessels so we could become each other I would. If I could attach our blood vessels in order to anchor you to the earth, to this present time, I would. If I could open up your body and slip inside your skin and look out your eyes and forever have my lips fused with yours, I would. It makes me weep to feel the history of your flesh beneath my hands in a time of so much loss. It makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side to create a series of gestures, to reach up around my neck, to draw me nearer. All these memories will be lost in time like tears in the rain.”

— David Wojnarowicz, from The Half-Life

“A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.”

— Gillian Flynn, Sharp Objects

“and cain said, There’s an idea I can’t get out of my head, What’s that, said abraham, There must have been innocent people in sodom and in the other cities that were burned, If so, the lord would have kept the promise he made to make to save their lives, What about the children, said cain, surely the children were innocent, Oh my god, murmured abraham and his voice was like a groan, Yes, your god perhaps, but not theirs.”

— José Saramago, Cain

“I’d like to jet-ski / straight out of this life because right now I am / way attached to real things like for instance / people how they are all so tender how they / love to just go walk around and someof them are / wearing pink now and it hurts me and they / bathe their dogs”

— Heather Christle, “This Is Not The Body I Asked For”

“The idea of deserving love. And then watching love being given to people who did nothing to deserve it.”

— Anaïs Nin, from her journal

“And he cries and cries, cries for everything he has been, for everything he might have been, for every old hurt, for every old happiness, cries for the shame and joy of finally getting to be a child, with all of a child’s whims and wants and insecurities, for the privilege of behaving badly and being forgiven, for the luxury of tendernesses, of fondnesses, of being served a meal and being made to eat it, for the ability, at last, at last, of believing a parent’s reassurances, of believing that to someone he is special despite all his mistakes and hatefulness, because of all his mistakes and hatefulness.”

— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

“The veals are the children of cows, are calves. They are locked in boxes the size of themselves. A body-box, like a coffin, but alive, like a home. The children, the veal, they stand very still because tenderness depends of how little the world touches you. To stay tender, the weight of your life cannot lean on your bones.”

“Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined.”

— Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

“I know we’ve just met but I feel like maybe / you’d feed me and tuck me into your big bed / and only touch me as you covered me with the comforter.”

— Kim Addonizio, “Party”

“The body has no thoughts. The body soaks up love like a paper towel

and is still dry.”

— Kim Addonizio, “Body And Soul”

“I don’t know how God can bear / seeing everything at once: the falling bodies, the monuments and burnings, / the lovers pacing the floors of how many locked hearts.”

— Kim Addonizio, “The Numbers”

“I keep wishing for you, keep shutting up my eyes and looking toward the sky, asking with all my might for you, and yet you do not come. I thought of you, until the world grew rounder than it sometimes is, and I broke several dishes.”

— Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Minnie Holland

“The unknowness of my needs frightens me. I do not know how huge they are, or how high they are, I only know that they are not being met.”

— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit

“I used to be a hopeless romantic. I am still a hopeless romantic. I used to believe that love was the highest value. I still believe that love is the highest value. I don’t expect to be happy. I don’t imagine that I will find love, whatever that means, or that if I do find it, it will make me happy. I don’t think of love as the answer or the solution. I think of love as a force of nature - as strong as the sun, as necessary, as impersonal, as gigantic, as impossible, as scorching as it is warming, as drought-making as it is life-giving. And when it burns out, the planet dies.”

“As for myself, I am splintered by great waves. I am coloured glass from a church window long since shattered. I find pieces of myself everywhere, and I cut myself handling them.”

— Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping

“I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED GENOCIDE TO STOP I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED AFFIRMATIVE ACTION AND REACTION I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED MUSIC OUT THE WINDOWS I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED NOBODY THIRST AND NOBODY NOBODY COLD I SAID I LOVED YOU AND I WANTED I WANTED JUSTICE UNDER MY NOSE”

— June Jordan, “Intifada Incantation: Poem 38 for b.b.L.”

“Maybe when I wake up in the middle of the night I should go downstairs dump the refrigerator contents on the floor and stand there in the middle of the spilled milk and the wasted butter spread beneath my dirty feet writing poems writing poems maybe I just need to love myself myself and anyway I’m working on it”

— June Jordan, “Free Flight”

“It’s not that I gave away my keys. / The problem is nobody wants to steal me or my / house.”

— June Jordan, “Onesided Dialog”

“What reconciles me to my own death more than anything else is the image of a place: a place where your bones and mine are buried, thrown, uncovered, together. They are strewn there pell-mell. One of your ribs leans against my skull. A metacarpal of my left hand lies inside your pelvis. (Against my broken ribs your breast like a flower.) The hundred bones of our feet are scattered like gravel. It is strange that this image of our proximity, concerning as it does mere phosphate of calcium, should bestow a sense of peace. Yet it does. With you I can imagine a place where to be phosphate of calcium is enough.”

— John Berger, And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief As Photos

“I wept and wept. I had come to believe that if I really wanted something badly enough, the very act of my wanting it was an assurance that I would not get it.”

— Audre Lorde, from “Zami: A New Spelling of my Name”

“You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. / Only the sun has come this close, only the sun.”

— Shauna Barbosa, “GPS”

“It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way. (...) To make up for it. To make up for the fact that it’s me.”

— Suzanne Rivecca

“I hope it’s love. I’m trying really hard to make it love. I said no more severity. I said it severely and slept through all my appointments. I clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. I’d rather quit. I’d rather be sad.”

— Richard Siken, Self-Portrait Against Red Wallpaper

“We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven, which brings us back to the hero's shoulders and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.”

— Richard Siken, “Snow And Dirty Rain”

“Love, for you, / is larger than the usual romantic love. It's like a religion. It's / terrifying. No one / will ever want to sleep with you.”

— Richard Siken, “Litany In Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out”

“The hardest thing still remains. It remains the hardest, to bear all the tenderness and only to gaze on.”

— Ilse Achinger, “Mirrorstory”

“i killed a plant once because i gave it too much water. lord, i worry that love is violence.”

— José Olivarez, “Getting Ready to Say I Love You to My Dad, It Rains”

“Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women; kitchen of lust, bedroom of grief, bathroom of apathy. Sometimes the men - they come with keys, and sometimes, the men - they come with hammers.”

— Warsan Shire, “The House”

“I’ll take care of you. / It’s rotten work. / Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

— Euripides, Orestes, tr. Anne Carson

“We have this deep sadness between us and it spells so habitual I can’t tell it from love.”

— Anne Carson, The Beauty of the Husband

“There is no question I am someone starving. There is no question I am making this journey to find out what that appetite is.”

— Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays

“I wish I could peel all my sadness in one long strip off my skin & toss it in a bucket. No one would have to carry it. It would just sit there & be punished. It would just sit there & think about everything it’s done.”

— Chen Chen, “Elegy For My Sadness”

“There is too much or not enough room in my stomach for everything we will do to each other.“

— Adriana Cloud, “Bento Body”

[youresog0lden]

Call Out My Name || S.R

Word Count: 2.1K 

Summary: being kidnapped was never easy and neither was being in love

Tagging: @doctorthreephds​

Warnings: cursing, kidnapping, nightmares, mentions of being kidnapped. 

Masterlist

Based off this post

I never thought it was going to be like this. To end up in the situation, in which a sadistic man kidnaps three federal agents, holds them hostage and makes them spill their darkest secrets. In which I also didn’t know that I was going to tell the only person I’ve ever loved that I loved him, in front of the girl he was in love with and, it is true I am completely and hopelessly in love with Spencer Reid. From the countless times we spent night on his or my couch watching Disney movies together or, when we would talk about stupid memories from our childhood, to times when he would cry to me about being scared of what his future would be like. I never in a million years thought I would be sitting on the floor hands tied together, feet tied together, tears spilling out of my eyes, and seeing Spencer and JJ sitting on the floor the same way. Broken glass and the numbing of my wrists were the only things I could feel right now. I wanted so badly to scream and shout. I wanted so bad to escape but being held at gunpoint won’t let me be able to do that. I wish I would’ve stayed with Emily, but I insisted I came with them. Is that selfish of me? It might be but it would be better than being here. 

“Okay so who’s going to start. We don’t have all night agents.” his voice was harsh. “Hmm, you.” he points his gun at JJ. 

“Start spilling or-” he takes a minute to look between Spencer and I. “He’s dead.” his gun pointed at Spencer. My eyes went wide, looking around for anything, anyway to get out of this. 

“Doll, we don’t have all day. I’m starting to get impatient.” I look the guy in the eyes before taking a deep breath. 

“My deepest secret is that I wish I never joined the BAU.” 

“Hmm. Not good enough, elaborate.” he smiled a crooked smile. I look at Spencer as he furrows his brows at me wondering what she was talking about. 

“I wish I never joined that BAU because I wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone I shouldn’t have.” 

“Who.” he jabbed, I looked at Spencer, then at JJ, then right back at Spencer. The ringing sounded throughout the room. I hear Spencer let out a yelp, when the bullet barely missed his leg and went straight to the floor.

“Spencer. I’m in love with Spencer.” she cried my eyes rushing to look anywhere but his right now. My eyes went wide as I felt a few tears prickle. I sat there just looking between them watching Spencer just sit there and stare at JJ with so much disbelief in his face. I mean who couldn’t the girl he was in love with just told him she was in love with him.  

“Good now-” before he could say anything another ringing sound was in the room. The smoke was filling the room, seeing it come from Spencer's hands, holding a gun. 

“Come on let’s go.” JJ said, lifting up Spencer and walking out holding him up. I let out a long awaited sigh and stood up walking to the exit. I watch the swat team come into the building along with the medics. I take a step out into the cold winter air letting it hit my face. 

“Y/N are you okay?” Emily walked up to me, putting her hand on my shoulder. 

“Ye-” I watched them hugging tightly. “Yeah, sorry I’m fine. I just think I really need some sleep.” I sighed. It didn’t take long before everyone was walking back to the jet, happy that no one got injured badly. Everyone sat on the plane making small talk, trying to defuse the tension. I just sat there staring at the ground, trying to get my mind off of what just went on. JJ was in love with Spencer and I couldn’t tell. I mean she did tell me her and Will were having some troubles right now, and her and Spencer had been hanging out a lot, and the way she looks at him. I’ve seen it somewhere I just can’t pinpoint it. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the look of hope, the look of being in love with someone. It’s the look I’ve given Spencer a thousand times. I was supposed to be a profiler and I couldn’t even see this coming. I felt my eyes get watery once again so I lay against my hands and try to go to sleep. 

After some much needed sleep, I feel someone trying to wake me up. I let out a loud yawn and meet the eyes of the one and only Luke Alvez. 

“It’s time to get up. We’re home.” I nod, grabbing my to-go back and walk off the jet. I don’t say anything to the team but a wave goodbye and quickly walk to my car. I sit in my car for a second before I can’t stop the tears. They start coming out, letting out loud sobs, and whimpers. I felt hopeless, I had no chance of being with him. I start my car, my hands shaking as I get to the apartment complex. Starting a long and treacherous night. I get to my apartment and unlock the door before sliding against it and bringing my knees up to my chest, letting out loud sobs. 

12:00 P.M 

My head was spinning, my throat was dry, my heart was heavy. I sat at the table looking through all the team photos, the photos of Spencer and I. Everything seemed so off recently and I was never able to tell. Going through the photos made my heart hurt more and more. Photos of Spencer holding my hands, kissing my cheeks, and holding me. It doesn’t take long before the tears start up again, and I’m all alone in my thoughts. 

1:00 A.M 

I’ve tried to sleep, but every time I fall asleep I see him, and her, and that place and I wake up screaming, with no one to hold me. To comfort me when I need it. I think about calling Spencer but I decide against it. He probably has a lot going on too. So I’m trying to go to sleep again. 

2:00 A.M

“Stop, please stop. I need him here.” my body was twisting in my sleep, sweat drenching off of me. 

“Please, kill me. Not him, kill me instead.” tears we’re on my cheeks. 

“I don’t think so, doll.” I jumped up, crying harder. 

3:00 A.M

My neighbors checked on me. They said I woke them up screaming and needed to make sure I was alright. I told them I was fine, just a bad dream and I’m sorry for waking them. I didn’t want to chance that again so I sat at my couch and stared at my t.v. Nothing was playing, no sound was coming from the apartment. It was cold and irey and I didn’t know why. 

4:00 A.M

My eyes are getting heavier, but every time I close my eyes I see him and the shop again. I see Spencer smiling with her. Everything just seemed to be about him, but now my eyes feel heavy and I’m fast asleep. 

11:00 A.M 

I woke up to someone shaking me awake. When my eyes do finally open then I look up to see a very worried Spencer looking over me. 

“What- what are you doing here.” I groaned sitting up. 

“We have a case, Emily tried to call you, so did JJ.” I winced when her name came out of his mouth. He didn’t say anything but it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I um-” I was looking around my room for my phone, trying to find it. “I don’t know where my phone is.” I sit on my table, trying to fully wake up. 

“ ‘s okay. We all had a rough day yesterday. Emily said and I quote ‘I get it if you guys want to take some time off. That is understandable.’ but you never texted her back or me. I tried to call you. I was worried. I didn’t get to talk to you after… everything.” he looked at me. 

“How are you doing.” his hand went to my arm. I sigh at the touch, I wanted so badly to be mad at him but he’s here right now.

“It was a rough night. I couldn’t really sleep without-” I cleared my throat. 

“Without having this nightmare.” I looked into his eyes.

“What kind of nightmare.” he rubbed his hand up and down my arm. 

“I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“Y/N just talk to me.” he sighed softly. 

“I had a dream... we were back in that place but it was just us and the unsub.” 

“Us?” 

“You and me.” 

“He- he was trying to kill you, I begged him multiple times not too, but he didn’t care he shot you dead and told me it was my fault. All my fault and that I didn’t tell him a good enough secret.”  I cried. 

“Hey, Y/N. You’re okay. I’m here.” his hands wrap around my waist.

“I’m right here.” 

“Then I- I had another dream.” 

“Okay, tell me about it.” 

“He made you choose.” 

“He made me choose? Between?” I looked at him for a second. “JJ and I.” 

“That’s crazy why would I have to choose-” he stopped mid sentence and looked at me. It was like everything from the past night had finally made sense. 

“Do you love me?” his eyes snapped to mine. I looked down, his hand moving to my chin to lift it up. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yes.” it was barely audible. He let out a little smile.

“Why are you smiling.” 

“I just- I never thought someone like you would fall for someone like me.” 

“Are you crazy.” my eyes finally met his. “Spencer you are charming, caring, one of the sweetest people I have ever met. You care for everyone and anyone. You have one of the biggest hearts out there. You are so so smart, and anyone would be more than lucky to have you. Especially JJ.” my last part was quiet but I know he heard it.

“Why would I choose JJ.”

“Because she is so much smarter, prettier, can handle so much more than me. She is so much of a better person than I am.” I look down once again. 

“Y/N I don’t ever want to hear that. You are one of the sweetest people I know. You always put someone else before yourself. You are so beautiful, and you are so strong. If you weren’t as strong as I know you are you wouldn’t be doing this job. Y/N please don’t ever doubt yourself because I love you. I know I don’t act like it sometimes especially yesterday but we all had a lot going on. I just needed to sort out my mind. Y/N maybe if you asked me ten years ago who I would choose you or her. I might choose her, but today if you were to ask me who I would choose it would be you. No hesitations. I’ve loved you for the past five years. Every time I needed someone who was the person by my side. When I needed a shoulder to cry on one who was there. When I was scared for what was going on, what was going to happen to me. Who was the one by my side. When I just needed some food and wanted someone to talk to, or what about when I wanted to watch Star Trek and everyone else said it was too nerdy and you sat there and told them how good the movie was. Who was there. Because it wasn’t JJ, it wasn’t Derek, it wasn’t Emily. No it was you. You are my partner in crime. How can I not love you. How can anyone not love you.” tears by now were streaming down my face, his thumbs wiping off every tear. 

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner.” 

“I was scared.” i laugh quietly 

“Of what?” 

“That you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

“Was it not obvious.” I look at him

“No.” 

“Oh well in that case.” I grab his face pulling his lips to meet mine. After a few minutes we pull away.

“I love you.” I laugh.

“I love you too.” and his lips are on mine again.

[ginkgomoon]

Gavin’s Mini House In Detail 🏡

During the Mini House special events, I obtained all the furnishing items and had already unlocked all the furniture in the home so I thought for Gavin’s Birthday Week, I would share all of the little secrets it contains! 

Gavin has four sections of the house including-

Living Room

Loft 

Courtyard

Basement

This post also includes MC’s commentary and quotes from special happenings associated with Gavin. Special furnishes will have the coziness points indicated next to its name.

Please enjoy! 

Living Room

Soft Stool 

The white soft stool next to the tea table.

This stool is a must when Gavin watches soccer games.

The leather surface is very soft, and its height is just right for watching TV on.

Want to know the trend of the soccer lottery recently? How about asking about it? 

It seemed to have won all the recent games, and is both happy and lonely.

If his favourite team loses, Gavin will sit here alone. (#sad) 

White Sofa 

With so many pillows, you don’t have to worry about having no support behind you.

Is the white sofa difficult to clean? 

The bolsters are very comfortable.

Curled up on the sofa with soft ginkgo aroma.

“Gavin, do you remember what you told me?”

“I just want to be with you, just like this...”

“You still remembered!” 

“I won’t forget what I’ve told you.” 

“Then... Do you have anything you want to tell me this time?” 

Gavin kissed MC’s forehead gently.

- This special happening (Starry Sky) refers to the Furniture City Date!

White Table 

“Gavin’s Pad is placed here too.”

(It has a photo of MC and she says she will change it into the both of them next time.)

“I can add a snack box, but Gavin doesn’t really eat snacks.”

Hallway Cabinet

“Gavin waters the plants regularly.”

“These are often loose change on the cabinet which we can take before going out.”

“The silver ornament is a souvenir I bought when we went to Disneyland.”

The “Wavy Thing”

“I noticed a little “go for it” written on the most recently scrawled page of the notebook.” 

“I found a magazine that puts people to sleep in a second, which was necessary for insomniacs.”

Zoombot 

The black Zoombot.

Today I’m again busy all over the place saving Zoombot.

It’s a bit stupid and often gets stuck after hitting the furniture.

Makes a buzzing sound when working.

You threaten it: If you hang again, I’ll replace you!  

Music Stand

The music stand bought by Gavin.

On it are sheets of music scores printed by Gavin.

It will sometimes think that the small black table next to it is a bit short.

Sometimes Gavin uses in in the hanging chair to record melodies.

Gavin will print the music scores and put them on it to practice.

Flowers on the Wall 

Each flower is carefully selected by Gavin.

The front wall stores a variety of flowers.

The flowers on the entire flower wall are all preserved fresh flowers. 

Black Table and Seat 

Looking at it closely, it is the song that Gavin played last time. (Music score sheet on table.) 

It is also very comfortable with the little black seat cushion next to it.

The soft black cushion stuffed with cotton.

My exclusive seat for Gavin’s recital.

I bought it with Gavin when we were shopping at the furniture market.

Hanging Chair/Rose Hanging Chair (Coziness 88)

A great napping spot.

Here in the Leisure Time special happening, MC and Gavin talk about the swing they had in high school. MC is surprised that Gavin knew about the view of the sunset when being on it. He says he “passed by” sometimes. MC notes how the ginkgo leaves danced in the wind. He says, “they were gifts from another person”.

Heart-Shaped Chair (Coziness 28)

A cute small stool and a convenient storage box.

Gavin’s expression was a bit subtle while he sat on it first.

Alternating blue and pink hearts, as it’s a Valentine’s Day limited edition.

Surfboard Cabinet (Coziness 42)

It’s a new surfboard. Bring it next time we travel.

There are also other surfboards. Guess where they are? 

It says fly on the surfboard, like I can leap through waves with it.

(THEIR CUTE SHOES ARE NEXT TO IT AHHH)

Blue Lamp

A lamp that always blows bubbles from the bottom to top.

It’s beautiful and dreamlike when switched on at night.

Black Table on the Left 

“This looks like the score that Gavin played on the beach last time. I suddenly feel a bit nostalgic.”  - This refers to the Slightly Drunken Date!

“I found a picture of an asleep Gavin. He was sleeping soundly.”

Claw Machine and Carpet 

A dream-like claw machine. Gavin will add new dolls in it.

The inserted game coins can be taken out from the back of the machine and then reused.

A small black carpet in front of the claw machine.

I bought it together with the large carpet.

Red Bunny, White Bunny, Pink Bunny, Red Bunny, Grey Bunny.

Motorcycles 

The blue motorcycle sometimes want to compete with the opposite motorcycle.

The colour of the motorcycle displayed is sky blue. 

Maybe its name will be “Azure”? (because Gavin uses colours to individually name items.) 

Spring Landscape Display 

The landscape has been embedded into the window, like beautiful paintings.

Maybe there is a new world inside.

I can't help stopping to enjoy the view each time I pass.

Is designed for a wider view, improving your mood even when you're tired.

Winter Landscape Display (Coziness 61)

A corresponding landscape should be changed into winter.

Such heavy snow! Frozen river! Unfortunately, they are all fake. 

You can enjoy the red maple leaves and snow even at home, isn’t it wonderful?

Loft 

Painting

This is a word map that covers the entire wall.

Looking at it, Gavin and I have already been to so many places.

If you want to travel, you can find the destination on it in advance.

I'm willing to create memories with him in many more places.

Chandelier

The current iron style design is really cool.

Shines warm yellow when turned on, warming our hearts.

Display Cabinet  

It should have been a wine cabinet, but Gavin doesn’t drink, so it became a display cabinet.

The ‘little things’ between me and Gavin are displayed inside.

It looks empty now, but it will slowly be filled up in the future.

Black Tea Table

A black low table in front of the sofa.

I occasionally work here.

The star and moon deco piece is very beautiful, I picked it with Gavin.

You can put fruits and snacks on it while reading.

The wood texture had a matted quality with the black coat of paint.

Art 

Looks cold but is artistic.

Seems useless, but also seems cool.

Greenery

A corner with blooming flowers all seasons, is warm and restful to the eye.

Outside the window is a huge ginkgo tree, and the fallen leaves are like brocade.

I feel like it’s always spring with all these flowers around.

It compliments the scenery outside the window. (They have a ginkgo tree right outside their home!) 

Cabinet 

Photo framed have karmas from the Starry Date and the Romantic Date!

Decorative Cabinet/Snowman Closet (Coziness 49)

The two little snowmen stared at each other throughout the winter. (Cute little reference to the CN Recovery ASMR.)

It looks like a window at first glance, but it’s actually a cabinet if you look carefully.

And you could open it. Didn’t see that coming right? 

Starry Sky Wall (Coziness 52)

Today’s wish… I hope that Gavin…

I will accompany you to see the meteor rain which falls on this Earth.

Every moment a wish is realised, there will be a meteor streaking across the sky.

Dandelion Lamp (Coziness 43)

The lamp looks exactly like the grapefruit during Mid-Autumn Festival.

Like a burning sparkler, shining brightly.

Six light sources, not too dazzling nor too dark.

Festive Decoration Table (Coziness 57)

Although there are two cups of drinks, we can still drink from the same cup.

The sofa in the corner always makes people feel safe. 

Although we are only two people, I still chose two long couches.

The letter under the ginkgo biloba leaf, writes a love poem.

All the shopping bags represent his most flawless love.

The wide view allows you to see the scenery in the yard.

The soft white mat was added afterwards.

But it’s always hot under the sunlight, so the curtain is often pulled down.

Basement

Security Camera 

You are in a monitored area, please mind your actions.

Bulletproof Glass 

It’s not a normal screen, it’s bulletproof.

It's not often that one gets to see such a cool and HARD-CORE transparent screen.

Anyways, curious what’s in this wall.

Sci-fi glass wall in the movies.

The engraved badge is Gavin’s silent pride.

1-2-3... still shorter than it!

Gingko Tree

Seasons slip by soundlessly.

No matter how small their wishes are, they will become seeds and eventually bloom in gold.

All life’s little joys turned into gold.

It guards the serene life here quietly over in the corner.

(Gavin makes ginkgo bookmarks with them for MC. CRIES.)

Corner Resting Area 

These action figures are actually pretty fun!

The puzzle is all grown up. It should be able to piece itself back together. (LOL)

(Puzzle) Maybe finish it while Gavin’s gone? 

(Table) It sometimes thinks the table is a bit short.

(Chair) It looks hard but it’s actually comfortable to sit on.

Very spacious, but looks a bit empty.

Some decorations should be displayed here.

Sitting on a blanket is also very comfortable. You can also lean on the small pillow. 

(Carpet) This is a carpet. You can’t tell, right? 

The advanced smart carpet that is warm in winter and cool in summer is awesome.

(The book on the table is called ‘Kritik Der Urteilskraft’- The Critique of Judgement by famous German philosopher Immanuel Kant. It follows after the Critique of Pure Reason and the Critique of Practical Reason- the First and Second Critiques, respectively. The Critique of Judgment constitutes a discussion of the place of Judgment itself, which must overlap both the “understanding” and “reason”.)

“You need to take better care of your health.”

“Who was the one working overnight over the proposal the other day?”

“Alright, we’re birds of a feather, so... so both of us should look after ourselves for each other!” 

“Rest assured, I will. After all, it’s different now. I have you by my side.”  -Harmonous Compa Special Happening

Gavin’s Workspace

Accompany Gavin though every sleepless night.

This seems… No, I’m seeing things.

All folders are neatly organised and arranged.

A spacious table, with files and reports spread all over when busy.

I no need to worry about waking up from naps due to cold late at night.

I was reminded of some criminal investigation shows I have watched. Come on, Officer Gavin!

If this complicated case is made into a movie, it will be an exhilarating one. 

(Computer) A customised large-screen UHD model customised for work purpose.

(Computer) Work exclusive computer, only connected to intranet.

(Computer) The three auxiliary monitors can help keep the data safe.

(Chair) If you want to protect your waist, you should first have a comfortable cushion.

(Chair) if you work long hours, be sure to work in a comfortable chair.

(Board Area) What does it say? Ermm… Cats have nine lives? 

“Found a girl crookedly drawn next to a work record when he reached a bottleneck.” 

Airplane

This airplane model was assembled by Gavin himself.

The computer says-  Agent B-7

Team Operator S.T.R.I.K.E

Location Tracker 

S.P.Y Camera 

U4V Commando

Gunship Operation 

Motorcycle Repair Area 

Every vehicle is so cool in its own way! 

Hello, you are... Little… Erm… Let me think… 

With the strength to lift mountains and the spirit to take on the world! Ha! 

The robot arm is actually a simple robot.

For your safety, please don’t linger below it

(Motorcycle) I would like to greet my seniors.

Electronic Control Pad

Responsible for controlling the rising, descending and switches of the entire area.

On Spring Festival, it will say: Happy New Year, Sir!”

Sooner or later, fully automated smart management will be achieved.

Radio Office 

It’s an important communication device, and the only disadvantage is that it’s a bit heavy.

It’s actually a satellite phone, and it can receive signals everywhere.

Looks like the palm phone in the 90s. Oh no, I’ve exposed myself.

It looks like an electrocardiogram.

Don’t know how to use this weird device.

A thick laptop that it’s properly shut when not in use.

A cool eagle logo is printed on it.

Gavin used it only for special tasks and it will not be brought out.

LMAO MC DOESN’T HAVE ACCESS-

Courtyard 

Corner Seating Area 

A courtyard in sunny or snowy days are interested in their own ways.

Sometimes the unfrequented bolsters will envy the knee pillow.

It's’ wonderful when two people are sitting here reading, even if they don’t talk.

Standing barefoot on the soft lawn is very comfortable.

There's nothing nicer than basking ourselves when its sunny.

Binoculars

The white binoculars which you can see things several miles away.

You can use it to watch the stars when it’s not too cloudy.

But star-watching is clearer mid-air.

Seems to be the same binoculars as those in the scenic area.

The binoculars in the scenic area require coins, but this one doesn't.

Outdoor Lounge Chairs 

The new furniture I asked Gavin to buy.

Can enjoy the sunlight spa comfortably when relaxing. 

Closing my eyes, I feel like I’m lying on a beach.

The soft breeze and warm sunshine. This is life. 

Lying on it and looking at the blue sky and white clouds, your mind goes blank easily.

The blue and white clouds-

Leisure Table/Romantic Table (Coziness 52)

Lace tablecloth… I can’t imagine that it was chosen by Gavin.

The elaborately prepared dinner and roses, just for today.

A large sunshade on the balcony. (Black large umbrella.)

Bird Nest (Coziness 37) 

Once it was a pair of binoculars, now it’s a bird’s nest.

I bought it just because it was cute, but I’ll consider having pets in the future.

Birds flying by can also have a free meal here.

[starlightshadowsworld]

YGO Protagonists

Atem:

*Oldest brother... Literal dad

*Is very protective over the rest of them

*Seriously don't touch a hair on their heads because you will lose your soul.

*He totally has Kaiba on Speed dial and calls him over the dumbest things to get a rise out of him (but they are friendly?( Seto would also murder you dead if you hurt these munchkins he just won't admit it... (I will not apologise for this)

*Does not understand memes (mee mee's?) but tells dad puns for days.

*Always gives compliments and gives great life/dueling advice to the rest (puts a hand on their shoulders with that knowing and proud look).

*Will spend hours bragging about how far Judai's come, how smart and talented Yusei and Yusaku, how Yuya and Yuga created original dualing rules, how Yugi is awesome. He will tell anyone and everyone (they all secretly love it)

Yugi Mouto:

*Younger older brother? (identical twins but younger of the two)

*Super optimistic, always there to lend a hand and is very pacifistic... but will throw hands if the situation requires and without hesitation.

*Has Kaibaman in his deck to spite Kaiba (it works every time)

*HE SHARPENS HIS HAIR!

*Yes it can pierce a wall... It was for science.

*Usually the one to help escalate the chaos, and than pretends to have no idea why the house is upside down... And on fire... And the fire is green.

*Is the only one other than Atem to get Yusei to go to sleep.

*He loves puzzles, telling riddles and leaving little clues around the house for the others to solve (and they always get a present even if they get it wrong because they tried.)

*Doesn't see anything wrong with his fashion sense.

Judai Yuki:

*Problem child 1, needs a hug

*Memelord, will constantly troll Atem with movie references, and anything he can think of. (Yes he does quote the star wars prequels during duals.)

*Yubel makes sure he's looking after himself and has woven their way into the family. They and Astral have fun conversations. (Pharaoh the cat gets on very well with Atem... Werid.)

*Either he's happy, outgoing and herding the younger kids into various pranks. Rounding up Yuya, Yuma, Yuga and Yugi into his antics, (we don't speak of the Eggwitch incident). Sometimes he manages to drag Yusaku in to join them, giving them all a part to play and praising their efforts (they haven't been caught)

*OR he's depressed, haunted and full of guilt. He finds comfort by spending time with the others, hating being on his own. Everyone even those fairly reserved pick up on his mood and direct him to different tasks. Especially with Yuya, both of them can talk for hours about what ifs, shoulds and shouldn'ts.

*Favourite non dualing activity is helping Yusei to bake, he has burned many a cookie but he loves icing cakes.

*Very protective, will tap into the power of the Supreme King and Yubels abilities sometimes as unconsciously when one of the others are upset, or he's pushed into a corner.

Yusei Fudo:

*Oldest after the twins, literal mum

*Can't take care of himself to save his life but cares deeply for the others. Packing them lunches, helping them with school work etc.

*Takes Yusaku under his wing as soon as he sees his tech skills, both of them stay up for hours working on projects until Yugi scolds them at 4 am.

*Always half asleep, covered in oil and holding a cup of coffee (no he doesn't have a problem.) He mumbles codes and always seems to fall asleep holding a wrench.

*Usually he's accompanied by Yuga or Yusaku, either sitting and asking questions about their projects or working on a shared on/Yusaku's own stuff. He doesn't like working alone so it works out.

*Can do the "Mum look" and it has stopped the Supreme King, Dark Zexal and Zarc in their tracks.

*Card games on Motorcycles...having his bike borrowed by the little ones who want to play a card game on a bike but aren't old enough or know how to drive.

*Likes to bake, learned from Martha to give the others birthday treats and finds it fun.

*Claims he can never get sick... Liar.

Yusaku Fujiki

*Problem child 2 (all problem children need hugs and therapy, Kaiba get your wallet)

*Tried to stay closed off from the others but finds he enjoys their company and their antics.

*He has a Metapod hoodie that Yuya won at a carnival and gifted him. He wears it all the time, its cosy.

*Pretty Awkward, very cold sometimes without meaning it but somehow there all able to understand what he means without getting upset or offended.

*He spends hours working on projects with Yusei, neither talk much and it's a comfortable silence. Yuga often accompanies them, full of questions and joy and he enjoys sharing his work.

*Prefers to watch the others dual than to dual himself, absorbing the strategies and while he doesn't quite understand their motives... He finds himself smiling at Yuya's shows, wondering what he means with his smiling routine.

*Offhandedly told Kaiba that he fixed some holes in his security system. Kaiba went on a firing spree (yes with his firing people coat) and his was promptly hired. He actually enjoys it, and is now Kaiba's favourite brat.

*Also... The missing persons list is growing after Yusaku finally opened up about his past.... Werid.

Yuya Sakaki

*Problem child 3 (see above)

*Smiles go for miles

*Finds a lot of comfort from the others. The first time he let slip about Zarc, Judai was right there with his glowing green/orange eyes and they bonded instantly.

*He tries to only dual for entertainment and fun but that can't always be the case, though it really rattles him up afterwards. Do not make him mad in a dual if you value your life.

*Plays a lot with Yuma and Yuga, as the oldest of the trio he tries to set an example... He never said it was a good one....hes part of Zarc.

*He always has a game, an idea and the others will always be his faithful audience. He's made real solid dualing into an art, Atem and Judai have made his monsters real at times without the need for the tech (it was beautiful)

*Starts the appreciate Dragons Fanclub with Yusei and Kaiba.

*Yes to capes (Sorry Edna)

*Fusion dimension isn't available at the moment... Or the forceable future.

Yuma Tsukumo

*Second youngest, space boy

*Atem gives him advice and praises every one of his duals even he loses, teaching him that every one can be used as a step towards success.

*Astral befriends Yubel, and often makes remarks at the Zarc fragments, he and Yuuri get on the others nerve.

*He spends most of his time with Yuya and Yuga, either dualing, watching Yuya dualtain or pranking. He started their lengendary prank war against Judai and Yugi...(Yusei was out of the house for a week and Atem gave up). It was a battle for the ages.

*He does worry at times that he's so behind the others skill's levels but as he gets closer to them it matters less. He cheers on every one of them, bragging about how cool they are.

*He takes up other hobbies, baking, cooking, and dragging everyone into family game nights. Which all end fine and do not result in a pissed of Zarc threathing Wario before kicking his switch out of a window... Nope absolutely not.

*Has a constellation book.

*Likes using big words he doesn't know the meaning off. And than trying and failing to convince everyone he knows exactly what he just said without googling it... While Astral facepalms, definitely picked it up from Yusei.

Yuga Ohda

*Tiny baby

*Yugi picked him up once and everyone starting to sing "it's the circle of life."

*He loves watching Yusei and Yasuke work, because they answer his questions properly and look at his inventions with respect and a critical but kind eye. They slowly teach him his to improve and it shows in his work.

*All of them were interested in his Rush duals and listen to him explain, finding it interesting and another new way to play.

*Yuya teaches him how to dualtain, both of them putting on hippo-tastic shows for their friends and loved ones. Fulfilling their goals to have fun.

*He steals everyone's hoodies and jackets, doesn't care how big they are he will steal them and wear them. And look adorable despite his argument that he isn't.

*Everyone is the most protective of him as he's the youngest and while he's touched, he's super protective over them and offers himself as a cuddle buddy whenever anyone has nightmares.

And there all one big crazy family

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

Day 2 of Loceit Week!

I enjoyed writing this one, based on the prompt ‘Aftermath’ :) It can be seen as platonic or romantic, I’ll leave that up to you :) And yeah, there are quite a few Doctor Who references in this one... I like Doctor Who! <3

Hope you like it! 

@loceitweek2021

Writing Taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 @the-duke-of-nuts @writerwithtoomanyships

Read on Ao3!

‘The Aftermath’

Logan and Janus. Warning for mentions of arguments, overwhelmed emotions and upset moments.

Word Count: 1,565

Janus sighed as he heard a soft tap on his closed room door. If he opened the door to find Remus there eating spaghetti through a straw for the third time this week alone, he felt like he was going to scream. He… loved Remus platonically, he truly did, but there’s only so much of his crazy behaviour he could handle in a short space of time.

He put down his book and apprehensively shuffled opened the door. Uncharacteristically, he was surprised to see Patton standing there, he was staring at the floor and his eyes bore a sadness that Janus had never seen on his face before. I mean, come on. The guy was the literal embodiment of sunshine and lollipops. It was sickening sometimes, but seeing him so drastically sad, that was even more unbearable.

“Patton?” He tried to get him to raise his head, but he refused to look up from the floor. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared, but this shows that something serious has happened.

“You need to go to Logan… w- we had a fight! I said some things I regret; and he won’t talk to any of us. I- I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re my only hope. I- I need to know that he’s okay.” Janus just stared as the tears cascaded down Patton’s face, and his heart pounded as he thought about the notion of Logan sitting in his room alone. Knowing Logan, he probably wasn’t doing okay and despite the cold persona he puts on, he wanted- no, needed, to go help Logan. He cared about him too much to let him go through this alone.

“I’ll take care of him. It’s going to be alright, Patton.” He put a hand lightly on Patton’s shoulder before walking briskly to Logan’s closed door.

Janus took a deep breath and tapped three times on the blue door with one Doctor Who quote in the middle of it written aggressively in pen. ‘Good men don’t need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many.’ He wasn’t okay. Janus just hoped he’d be able to do something to help.

“Will you all just go away?!” Logan shouted at his closed room door. Janus couldn’t help but step back. The anger was powerful; and Logan’s voice was shaking ferociously. It was clear that his emotions were overwhelming him. Janus knew he needed to get to him as soon as possible, he couldn’t stand hearing him so hurt.

“Sorry, darling. I’m afraid you won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.” He spoke softly, hoping that Logan would hear that he was being genuine under the snarky tone. He could practically feel the hesitation from this side of the door.

“Please, Logan. As much I love the fact that I haven’t upset you for once, I can’t stand hearing you so hurt. Let me help.” He tried to keep the sarcasm in his tone, but his voice began to break towards the end; and he heard Logan sigh. He could also hear sniffles as the door opened a miniscule amount before footsteps shuffled back to the bed again. Janus pushed the door open and slowly made his way to Logan. He smiled gently as he sat on the corner of Logan’s bed and Logan raised his head up slowly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Logan shook his head vigorously and Janus nodded, letting him know that it was okay. He saw Logan’s hands shaking so he shuffled closer and held out his hands in between the two of them. Logan looked puzzled, before putting his hands on top of Janus’. Immediately, he could feel that he was starting to calm down, the anger was slowly dissipating. He just held Logan’s hands and rubbed his thumbs across the back of them, with anyone else, this would have been an uncomfortable silence, but that was never the case between the two of them, no matter what they were doing.

“I’m here, Logan. I promise. I will stay here for as long as you want me to be.” He smiled sincerely and was overcome with surprise when Logan moved his hands away and launched himself at Janus into an unexpected hug. As he buried his head into Janus’ neck, he held him a tight as he could. He rubbed his hands up and down his back while Logan sighed, almost debating whether he should talk or not. Janus didn’t mind though, he was starting to feel okay and that was the most important thing.

“I’m sorry… I’ve never been this consumed by emotions before. I always try to distance myself from them, they distract me. When I let things get to me, it makes me… weak.” Janus gripped onto Logan harder, he just needed to hold him, so he knows that everything is okay. He also wanted to say something, something that would get through to Logan so he knows that emotions aren’t a bad thing. They’re absolutely not a weakness. A lightbulb moment erupted in his mind as he remembered the quote on Logan’s door, he knew what to say.

“Letting it get to you. You know what that’s called? Being alive. Best thing there is. Being alive right now is what counts.” Logan pulled himself out of the hug and looked at Janus with a surprised look on his face.

“Doctor Who reference? Fantastic.” He laughed and Janus smiled back when he saw how relaxed Logan had become, that made him feel a lot better as well, even if that was a selfish thought… He didn’t care at this point.  

“Yeah… I totally didn’t steal your Season 6 boxset last month… I wanted to watch Doctor Who so I had something to talk to you about.” He looked at the floor and a small blush spread across his face at the admission he just made, and Logan just beamed even more.

“I wondered where that went… But I don’t mind. It’s nice that someone else wanted to watch it to talk about it with me… It’s nice not being called a joke for once too.” Janus felt a small flicker of anger when he heard the hurt in Logan’s voice. He faced Logan and gently lifted his head with two fingers so he was looking into his eyes.

“Now normally, I would give some kind of sarcastic quip as a response, but even I know that this isn’t the time for that. Logan. You are not a joke. You are smart, logical, talented, you keep the order. You stop everyone from doing things they will regret later on. You have saved the day on so many occasions, it would make anyone’s head spin. Sure, mistakes have been made from time to time, but everyone does. No one can be perfect… but you, Logan… You’re the closest thing to perfect I have ever known.” They both smiled gently at each other and Logan buried his head in Janus’ chest once again. They stayed that way for a few minutes before Janus leant back to ask Logan a question.

“How about I go and get that boxset from my room? We could watch it for a little bit? If you want me to stay with you that is.” He stood up while Logan nodded excitedly, and as Janus saw the sparkle return to Logan’s eyes, he knew everything would be okay.

“Could you… could you quickly give a message to Patton? Just tell him that I’m okay, and I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Janus nodded and ran up to his room so he could get back to Logan as soon as possible. He scribbled a note to Patton as he found the DVDs and on his way back, he pushed the paper under the lighter blue door. He saw it being taken and could hear Patton sigh in relief. His work was done. He opened Logan’s door and he was taken back by everything he had done in the space of five minutes.

“Well, you have been busy…” He looked around and saw a galaxy projection on the ceiling, string lights around the bed which turned it into a T.A.R.D.I.S-like fort. It was amazing. Logan patted the bed and Janus put the DVD into the TV before lying down next to him. As the first episode began, Janus smiled as he saw Logan miming all of the words. As he gradually began to move even closer to Janus, he lifted his arm up and scooped Logan close. This felt nice, and both of them knew that this is exactly what Logan needed… and deep down, it’s what Janus needed too.

They moved through season after season, laughing and crying together at everything that was going on. By halfway though Season Eight, Janus could see that Logan was starting to get tired as he desperately tried to keep his eyes open. He put his hands though Logan’s hair and softly stroked it, reassuring Logan it was okay to fall asleep if he wanted to, he was safe. In the silence, one part of the episode rang out in the room…

‘Love is not an emotion. It’s a promise.’

As Janus looked down at the now sleeping Logan, he knew what he felt and that he would be keeping a promise to Logan. Always.