#the beginning of the story has him on the left

[direquail]

so, my critique is less "it would take an unrealistically moral person to not do what he did", and more "I'm very tired of takes about John that make him this flat, un-nuanced, ultimate evil."

To your point about sexual assault: Most of the folks making those arguments about John and Harrow would probably not argue that Harrow was sexually abusing Gideon at the beginning of the series. But the abuse depicted is extremely sexually charged, and it would not take much work at all to argue that there was much, much worse happening offscreen. But the fandom is very interested in seeing Harrow in a more sanitized light (with some exceptions), so that isn't as explored, or if it is, it doesn't get quite as far. So why treat John differently?

I am really, deeply tired of readings that preferentially paint some characters as sexual abusers. Especially men, especially in a fandom that has a sizable lesbian fanbase. And I am saying this as a lesbian. John becomes a figurehead for patriarchy itself, with all of the violence and abuse we all know about, and then his actions are re-interpreted in light of that in a way that flattens the ways Muir complicates his position. Muir has even stated that he has an uneasy relationship with his role as "God the Father," but finds himself reproducing what he knows.

And that statement, specifically, is what I'm bringing to bear on my reading of John.

But my original post was, in large part, in response to people arguing that John was sexually abusing Harrow. I think it's a valid reading, but I don't want anything to do with it. As an analysis, I don't think it's a very good one, because once you bring sexual abuse, especially CSA, into the equation, any other analysis stops. That person becomes the villain in discussions of the text, end of story, and nothing else about them matters. It dominates the analysis and it dominates the story, which is why I think Tamsyn Muir left it out of the book. You can't talk about anything else if John is the embodiment of patriarchy, sexual abuse, and colonialism. You can't talk about how John's desire for vengeance warped him, or how his need for control warped his relationships with other people, because literally no one wants to find anything relatable about a sexual abuser in a book.

There are more interesting things to do with male villains in books focused on women than make them sexual abusers. There are more interesting things to do with religious trauma in a male-dominated faith than make it all come back to sexual abuse. There are more interesting ways for John to fail Harrow than by sexually abusing her and being a figurehead for patriarchy and colonialism.

It strangles the discourse and what's available for people to talk about.

I think what bothers me most about how John is talked about in the fandom is the implication that a different (implied: better) person would've done things differently and somehow more right than he did.

When the text goes to lengths to explore how suddenly coming into an incredible amount of power in a fatally constrained situation cannot lead to a good outcome.

If you're putting John in dialogue with the concept of the "magical girl", which Muir has said he is (a little tongue in cheek, but)--these are young, often profoundly unready people, who often get taken advantage of by the people who give them their powers. And like, yes, John is not a teenager, but I think that's part of the point, is that at no point is a person really prepared to become as powerful as he did--even before he merged with Alecto. Even when he was fully in control of his powers, even when they were given with honest intent and trust, even when he used them with the best of intentions and tried to do the right thing, there was no way for him to be prepared, especially given the situation he was in.

And it's funny to talk about how bad John must be in bed, but also, this isn't a scenario where John is some self-deluding Elon Musk-like villain or loser. He is genuinely trying to do the right thing, in terms of rescuing the Earth's population, rescuing the Earth Herself, and doing it ethically (see: M--'s insistence that they perfect the cryo containers until they could transport pregnant women).

I really do think this is something people are blocking out, because it is one of the uncomfortable parts of Muir's message with the series. But ESPECIALLY because the people "critiquing" him as an embodiment of patriarchy and empire are failing to see that part of Muir's critique is of human vulnerability to power: That is, that power corrupts.

And this even has echoes with Gideon & Harrow's story! Harrow begins the series in a deeply unequal dynamic with Gideon! And she does horrible things, not just because she is traumatized, but because she is traumatized and has the power to act her desires out on Gideon. She might have the motive (trauma), but that's not enough without the means (power).

And, yeah, I do have a semi-salty angle on this because people are frequently loath to think critically not just about axes of oppression but individual relationships of power when it applies to them and to people they like. ESPECIALLY when there is a very vocal segment of the fandom that is enthusiastically pro-harassment. It's very convenient to villainize John and actively dis-identify with him, because otherwise, you'd have to face the question of whether you'd do any better in his place. But the thing is, the mission of revenge he embarks on is a lot closer to many peoples' hearts than they'd like to consider.

That's the whole point.

[juniperskye]

Come bother me, baby.

Based on the following post: Inspo  you are the bane of young Aaron's existence - back when he was just an agent under Gideon and Rossi. A pain in his ass…so when you transfer to avoid your feelings for him, he begs you to come back. Okay listen, I know that Hotch didn’t really work under Rossi in the beginning, as Rossi had already left…but we’re all gonna pretend for the sake of this fic. Also – Haley just never existed in this, and that’s ok.

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 4164

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, female reader, she/her pronouns, age gap (Hotch is 28 and reader is 25), some explicit language, canon typical violence, mentions of case details, reader has experienced the loss of her parents, mention of holidays, mention of food/eating. Mention of reader being a mom, inaccurate timelines, let me know if I missed anything!!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

July 1993

The year was 1993, Jason Gideon and David Rossi were just granted permission to hire two agents to expand the team. They agreed that they would each pick an agent, that way there’d be no room to argue. They interviewed a total of 17 potential candidates, 13 of those were interviewed by Rossi and the other 4 by Gideon.

Aaron Hotchner had been the 7th file in Rossi’s stack, it was an impressive resume, one that was filled with cases he’d worked as a prosecutor, and then a number of cases he’d worked as a profiler in the Seattle Field office. He now was here in Quantico, Virginia, hoping to gain a spot on the BAU. To Rossi, Aaron had stood out amongst the others, he’d sat through all 13 interviews, and nobody could match the passion for this position like Aaron had. It had been an easy choice.

You had been the 2nd file in Gedeon’s stack, and honestly he’d been let down by his first candidate…so when you walked in, more than qualified for this position, he excused the other two candidates.  He didn’t feel the need to interview them, his gut told him you were the right choice. Your file had been padded with your numerous degrees varying from bachelor's degrees in psychology and criminology, to a master’s degree in forensic psychology, ending with a PhD in psychology. For the last year you’d been working in the Phoenix field office as a profiler. And while you didn’t have a ton of field experience, Gideon had been thoroughly impressed with your tenacity and overall enthusiasm for the profession.  

--

September 1993

Things had started off okay…mostly. Aaron definitely treated you like you were a child, though you were only three years younger than him. While you’d spent a lot of time expanding your knowledge of this field, Aaron had worked as a prosecutor immediately after his completion of law school. You weren’t sure why he thought he was so much better than you…you were a doctor after all.

It had started in the most dismissive way possible. You’d accidentally spilled your coffee at the round table, it had spread fast, covering his copy of the latest case file. You apologized immediately, offered him your copy while you went to print another. He shook his head at you, muttering something along the lines of you being young and unprofessional.

You had thought about going to Gideon to complain but ultimately decided against it. It would only make him see you as more of a child. So, you’d worked your ass off to prove yourself, you needed to show him that you were an asset to the BAU and not a liability.

--

May 1994

“I think this unsub is female.” You stated confidently.

“Are you insane?” Aaron scoffed.

“Before you completely dismiss me Hotch, hear me out.”

“Don’t call me that.” He hissed.

You had to physically wipe the smirk from your face before explaining your theory to the team. You’d pointed out how meticulous everything had been, how much care had gone into the murders and the disposals.

“If we really break everything down, it’s all done with so much care. The bodies haven’t just been dumped, they’ve been cleaned, redressed, and neatly placed in beautiful locations. The field of flowers, the hillside, by the art installation at the park.” You’d gestured to the photos pinned on the corkboard.

Looking around you could see the impressed look Gideon was wearing, it was bordering smug as he turned his gaze over to Rossi with a nod. Rossi couldn’t do anything other than shrug – you’d made a good point, who was he to question your expertise. But then there was Aaron…he was looking around in disbelief, nobody was even going to question it?

Aaron was pissed that you had been right. Three days after that briefing, you taken Helena Murphy into custody. She had lost her siblings in a car accident when she was in her teens, and a recent fender bender had been her trigger. She’d been taking the lives of young people who had resembled her siblings and laid them to rest somewhere beautiful…unlike the highway guardrail that had ultimately taken her family from her all those years ago.

Gideon and Rossi both gave you kudos for narrowing down the profile the way you had. The police officers at the Milwaukee PD had congratulated you and subsequently thanked you for your hard work. Aaron wouldn’t even look at you.

Needless to say, the flight home was tense.

--

August 1994

“Ugh it is soooo hot!” You whined, fanning yourself with a loose manila folder.

“Would you stop that?” Aaron asked.

“Stop what?” You feigned innocence.

“Bothering me! Your fanning is blowing all my papers around, just cut it out.” He huffed.

“Sure, thing Hotch.” You offered a sickly-sweet smile.

“Don’t call me that!” He shook his head and continued his report.

You stood from your desk and removed your blazer, showing off the fitted tank top you’d been wearing underneath. You made your way up to the kitchenette to retrieve some ice water and the ice pack from your lunchbox. At this point, you’d do anything to cool off.

You sat back down at your desk, sipping the water and crunching on the ice, while shifting the icepack from your chest to your neck. Aaron was so distracted by your constant moving that he had to speak up again. But as his gaze landed on you, he was rendered speechless…only for a moment, but it was enough time for him to notice the way the condensation from the icepack had dripped down your chest and when you slid it back to your neck, he could see the effect the could had on your breasts. His throat went dry.

“Stop messing around, it’s distracting.” He ordered.

“You’re no fun Hotch.”

“Would you just stop bothering me? You’re doing it on purpose now.” He sighed.

“Oh, fine.” You conceded.

--

November 1994

You made your way into the FBI building, hanging on one arm is your go bag, packed and ready to go. On the other arm is your purse, struggling to stay up on your shoulder as you held onto a basket filled with baked goods.

“Happy Holidays Jim!” You greeted, handing him a loaf of pumpkin bread.

“Thanks doll, you too! Did you get called in?” Jim, the head of security, asked.

“No, not yet anyway. I just figured I’d stop by.” You shrugged.

“You weren’t celebrating?” He questioned.

“Oh, um no, not this year.”

“Well doll, thanks for the pumpkin bread. Happy thanksgiving.” Jim smiled.

You made your way around, passing out different backed goods to people you saw every day, Maureen the receptionist, Mike from IT, and Sandra who was the director’s assistant. You’d even gone as far as bringing something for the BAU team members in the event that you did get called in.

Speaking of…

Gideon rushed into the bullpen of the sixth floor, in his haste he nearly missed the slight step down into the main section of the floor where your and Aaron’s desks sat. He was ferociously pressing the buttons on his pager – surely sending a page to the team informing them of the newest case.

Your suspicions were confirmed when yours beeped from your desk, drawing yours and Gideon’s attention.

“Jesus, I didn’t realize you were here. What are you doing here already?” Gideon asked.

“No reason to celebrate…I thought I could make myself useful here.” You shrugged and offered Gideon a container of gingersnaps.

“Thanks kid. Can you go get the files from Anderson?” Gideon requested.

“Of course, sir.”

Aaron arrived next; shock evident on his face when he saw you coming back from retrieving the files. He was about to make a snarky comment about you being here so early when Rossi came in behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.

--

The four of you were on the plane heading to Oklahoma, you were seated next to Gideon, going over the file, passing theories back and forth. Aaron was sat next to Rossi, stewing in a feeling the bordered annoyance.

“I can feel the steam blowing out of your ears.” Rossi teased.

“Sorry I just don’t get it…she got there so fast. She just – she just bothers me.” Aaron huffed.

“She was already there kid, she was at the BAU before Gideon even got there, he told me.” Rossi explained.

“What do you mean she was already there? Why would she have been at the office already?”

“I assume to keep herself busy. She lost her parents when she was in college, so she doesn’t really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with. She brought everyone at the office treats.” Rossi smiled, popping another bite of his banana nut muffin into his mouth.

“I didn’t know. That’s uh-that’s…” Aaron didn’t quite know what to say.

“Check your bag Hotch.” Rossi smiled and went back to his file.

Placed neatly in the outer pocket of Aaron’s bag was a cellophane bag containing snickerdoodles, his favorite. A red ribbon tied the bag closed and attached to it was a small note…

Sorry for bothering you all the time. Hopefully these can make up for a little bit of it.

Aaron took a bit of one of the cookies., rolling his eyes because, of course, they were perfect. He couldn’t help but feel bothered by your inability to be bad at something.

--

February 1995

You hated valentine’s day, it had always been a sore spot, all your friends swooning over the overpriced chocolate and roses that their boyfriends would get them. Not you though, you hadn’t received a valentine since freshman year of high school when Mathew Smith taped a rose to your locker. Matt had been nice and all, but he was looking for something…unserious.

You got yourself dressed and dragged yourself to the BAU. Everyone was so chipper as you entered the building, greeting you…but you met the majority of them with a scowl. Stepping off the elevator and going over to your desk, surprise overcoming you as you’re met with peonies and a pack of razzles. You moved them around, trying to find the note, coming across a yellow sticky note.

I thought these could be repayment for the pens you got me for Christmas.    -Hotch

You smiled at the signature, he’d hated when you called him Hotch, you’d been the first to do so and he was annoyed at how unprofessional it had initially seemed, he’d tell you not to call him that and claim you bothered him on purpose, but as Rossi and Gideon joined in with the nickname, he slowly grew to like you…it!

Aaron sat at his desk, plopping into his chair with a sigh. Your gaze lifted to meet his, a timid smile gracing your features.

“Hotch”

“Don’t bother me today.”

“Thank you.” You smiled.

“Don’t mention it.”

--

May 1995

May and June had become your least favorite months of the year. After losing your parents, you thought Christmas would be hard, and it was…but you’d found friends in school who would celebrate with you.

It was Mother’s Day and Father’s Day that killed you. People didn’t invite their orphaned friend over to celebrate those holidays with their family because…well because that’s weird.

These two months brought with them the painful reminder that your parents were gone.

Truthfully, you’d been glad to get the page letting you know that a case came in, it would have been a welcomed distraction…if it hadn’t been in your hometown.

Aaron could see how tense you were. He was trying to profile you, figure out what had you so worked up. He knew this time of year had to be difficult for you, seeing as Rossi told him you lost your mom. But he could tell there was something deeper, rooted within you.

It took some time, but after sitting back and observing, he figured it out. A few different officers knew you by name and were on a first-name basis with you. You’d been extremely familiar with the layout of the city, not needing directions to the location you’d gone to earlier. This must be your hometown.

--

“Alright guys, nice job today. So, we are flying out first thing tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Rossi said.

You were slow to pack up, gathering your things, chatting with a few of the officers before heading out of the precinct. You didn’t really know what to do, you didn’t want to go back to the hotel, but you also didn’t want to go around town. You had too many memories here, it was too hard to go around and picture all the times you had with your parents around here.

“Hey, you want to go for a drive with me?” Aaron asked

You couldn’t even mask the shock as it etched its way across your features.

“Sure.”

At first you had no idea where Aaron was heading, the drive feeling unfamiliar…but then all at once you’d figured it out. He was driving to Blue Grove Cemetery.

“What the hell are you doing? Why are we here?” You questioned, anxiety lacing your words.

“Look, I can’t imagine how hard it must be to go through May and June, now that they’re gone. I thought it might be nice for you to see them before we head back tomorrow.” Aaron explained.

So many feelings were running through you. Initially anger, why would he blindside you like this. But then that morphed into panic, you didn’t want Hotch to see this side of you, the weak and vulnerable side. But lastly was this weird warmth…it was slow moving like molasses, sticking to every part of your body.

--

Aaron parked and let you control the pace. He waited to move until you reached for the handle on the door, slowly exiting the SUV. You stood there, still, unmoving, unsure if you could do this. Aaron grabbed a bag out of the back seat before walking around to meet you where you stood.

“I’m sorry, I – I don’t…”

“Hey,” Aaron placed his hand on your shoulder gently. “Take your time.”

You nodded at him gratefully.

Eventually you began to move, leading Aaron through the cemetery. You’d passed headstone after headstone until you came to a stop at their gravesite, resting just below a beautiful tree, offering just enough shade to allow you respite from the heat.  

Aaron laid out a small blanket, letting you sit first, hesitating for a beat.

“You can sit…please.” You asked, more than told.

Aaron sat next to you silently. He pulled the bag in front of the two of you, removing its contents, a sandwich cut in half, a bag of kettle chips (your favorite) and lastly two diet cokes. As you watched him, you smiled, you may bother him once in a while…okay all the time…but he cared. Whether he’d admit it or not.

The two of you sat there, eating, enjoying the cool breeze that the afternoon offered. After some time had passed, you found yourself telling Aaron about your parents. How your mom loved to bake, and she would tell you that food brought people together. You told him how your dad did everything himself, he never called in a specialist for everything.

Aaron chimed in with how you’d clearly taken after them and it made you an incredible profiler…and there it was again, that warm feeling.

You’d recognized it… it was the same feeling that bloomed within you on valentine’s day, and before that, on Christmas. You’d bought hotch these really fancy fountain pens he’d mentioned in passing and he got you a coat, a nice warm one, since you didn’t seem to own one.

This warm, sticky, sweet feeling was rearing its ugly head…and you were pretty sure it was called love.

--

July 1995

That warm feeling had burrowed its way deep into your core and you were freaking out. You’d been doing everything you could to act normal around Hotch, you were worried you’d been failing miserably.

“I think your agent has a crush on my agent…” Rossi said to Gideon, peaking out the window of his office.

“That’s interesting, because I am pretty sure your agent has feelings for my agent.” Gideon challenged.

“Do you think they’ll figure it out?”

“Not any time soon.”

--

You flicked a paper football over your screen onto Hotch’s desk. He glanced up at you, only his gaze didn’t hold its usual annoyance, instead there was something that mirrored amusement written there.

“Are you trying to bother me some more?” Aaron asked.

“Um, yes. That’s my job; to bother you…didn’t you get the memo?” You teased.

“I must have missed that one.” He let out a breathy chuckle.

You went back to your report, working diligently. All of two minutes passed before the paper football knocked against your hand as it landed on your desk. You laughed and shook your head gently, there was that stupid feeling again.

--

October 1995

Your knuckles rapped gently against Gideon’s office door. You were shaking, your stomach twisted at the thought of what you were about to do. It had taken you a little while to figure out the best option…knowing that it wouldn’t be professional to continue working with Hotch with these feelings you had for him.

You’d looked at all the openings here at Quantico, trying to figure out which position would best suit you. Ultimately, counterterrorism was looking for someone with a background in psychology, so it just made sense. Which brings you to now, you were about to go into Gideon’s office and request the transfer.

“Come in.”

“Hey Gideon, I uh…I need to talk to you about something.” You stumbled a bit.

“Go ahead.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.

You sat, taking a steadying breath. “I’m requesting a transfer. To counterterrorism.”

“No.”

“Gideon, you-”

“No.” He began. “I am not going to sign a transfer request for you, especially not to counterterrorism, you have exceptional skills, and we need them here.”

“Gideon, I have to transfer. I feel – I have…” You trailed off as your eyes found Aaron beyond the window in the bullpen. “I can’t work with him, not when I feel like this.”

Gideon took a deep breath, looking at you and taking in the longing gaze you wore. He didn’t fully understand what thoughts were running through your head, but if this is what you felt you needed to do, he wasn’t going to stop you. You were a very strong and capable agent…he trusted your judgement.

“How much longer do we have you here at the BAU?” He asked waving for you to hand him the paper.

“Two weeks.” You sighed. “I’m sorry Gideon.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re smart and you need to do what is best for you.”

--

November 1995

“Alright guys we have a case, round table in five.” Rossi called out into the bullpen.

You gathered your things, knowing you wouldn’t be travelling with them for this case. You figured you’d sit through the round table, offer a few theories and then let them go on their way.  Aaron watched you slowly grabbing a legal pad and your signature pink pen, he chuckled grabbing his own paper and one of the fountain pens from the set you bought him.

“Before we begin I just want to say that I am so proud of how you have grown and flourished with this team, and while it is a huge loss for the BAU, counterterrorism is lucky to have you.” Gideon stated, looking at you.

“What? You-you’re transferring?” Aaron asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“When…when are you leaving?” He asked.

“Today is my last day.” Your gaze shifted to your lap.

“We can talk about this later, let’s go over the facts of the case.” Gideon demanded.

Through the entire briefing Aaron’s eyes were burning into you. He couldn’t focus on the fact of this case because he was completely hung up on the fact that yours wouldn’t be the face across from him anymore…you weren’t going to be there to flick paper footballs at him, or to hum songs all day, to crunch annoyingly on baby carrots. Who was going to bother him if you were gone?

After you finished going over the case, you couldn’t help the sting behind your eyes, slowly realizing that this was it, your time at the BAU was done. But you held your head up high and steeled yourself. You offered Gideon a handshake, Rossi pulled you into a tight hug, and Aaron…well he brushed by you with a curt nod.

--

Aaron was miserable throughout the entirety of the two weeks they were away on this case. He was moping, and it wasn’t going unnoticed. Rossi and Gideon shared a knowing look, thankful that he was finally figuring it out.

They hadn’t quite expected it to take him so long to do something about it.

--

December 1995

The bullpen was so quiet without you. Aaron felt uneasy; he was the only one in the center of the floor now that you were gone. His file going long forgotten as he sat back and thought about things for a bit…

When he first saw you, you’d entered the elevator at the same time for your interviews, you’d offered a quiet thank to him for holding the elevator for you and he couldn’t deny then how cute you were. But then you’d both been hired on as profilers and he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to think that anymore, so he shoved the feeling down.

Then you spilled your coffee all over the table, effectively ruining his file, but you’d cursed, burning your hand as you quickly tried to clean it up. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and tell you it would be okay, so he fled.

It was so many things after that, your intelligence and the passion you had for profiling. Your baking, always noting people’s favorites and bringing them sweets, just to see them smile. The way you listened, remembering something he’d brought up in passing and gone out of your way to order his favorite pens.

Oh shit. He was in love with you. He’d fallen in love with you and had been too stupid to realize it.

--

Aaron moved with a purpose, rushing through the FBI building, making his way up the two flights of stairs it took to get to counterterrorism. He burst through the door, drawing attention to himself, his eyes frantically scanning the room in search of you.

He moved forward, noticing you across the room. He reached you in a few long strides, stopping just before you.

“Hotch…what are you doing here?” You looked around, blushing profusely.

“Sweetheart, you need to come back to the BAU.”

“I can’t…Aaron I-”

“I know that I have given you no reason to believe this, but I love you sweetheart. I need you to come back to the BAU, come back and bother me, baby.”

“No.” You shook your head in disbelief.

“Well yes.”

“Aaron, no.”

“Yes! Come bother me, baby. Bother me for the rest of my life.” Aaron begged. His hands reaching forward to cup your face.

“Okay” You gasped.

Aaron pulled you into a kiss, the agents surrounding you erupting in cheers for the both of you.

--

Bonus scene – May 2016

“Happy Mother’s Day sweetheart.”

“Happy Mother's Day mom!”

“Thank you guys!” You smiled, feeling nothing but joy looking to those who surrounded you.

Before you was your incredible husband and your three children, two sons and a daughter. They had gotten up early to make breakfast for you before they headed off to school. There had been a bouquet of peonies, cards, and a pack of razzles.

“Jack, are you okay to get Zoey to school today? We got called in pretty early.” You asked.

“Yeah mom! I have practice though, so Jason and Zoey might have to hang out a while.”

“Don’t worry about that bud, Will offered to pick them up when he picks up Michael.” Aaron patted Jack on the shoulder.

“Alright kids, we will see you later, be safe and please text me when you get to school!” You called, heading out the door with Aaron hot on your tail.

--

Aaron and you made your way into the BAU hand-in-hand. You glanced around at this team you built together, and you couldn’t be happier. Aaron made his way toward his office, noticing you’d stopped and before he could say anything, Dave clapped him on the back.

“Leave her be. She’s admiring this family you’ve built together.”

You looked over to where Aaron and Dave stood, offering a bright smile. You then made your way down to the floor, greeting Emily, JJ, Derek, Spencer and Penelope.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[sombrashe]

hare ∿ daeho x reader

smut

content soft dom daeho, "bratty" sub reader, reader has a vagina, soft smut, crybaby reader, not edited

notes post squid game au where the x's won the vote / this is 1.4k words

"Turn around for me."

You shake your head and grind back against him. he huffs and places a soft kiss against your shoulder blade. spreading his fingers out he rests his palm against your lower stomach grabbing at you.

"What was that?"

"No. I don't wanna. Just move."

"Is that your final answer?"

you roll your eyes. he gently caresses the back of your thigh and pinches the skin there. pulling away from you his cock slips out with a pop. panic washes over your face as he slips off the bed. grabbing his briefs he pulls them on. rising to your knees, you grab at his bicep.

"No, no, wait. I'm sorry. Please don't stop."

he pulls away and finishes dressing. looking down he replies while buttoning his top.

"You had your chance, angel."

you frown and look up at him with wide eyes. blinking you push out your bottom lip. you try to look as pathetic as possible hoping to change his mind. he spares you a glance but doesn't even show an ounce of care. anger flashes over your face and you cross your arms in annoyance. pulling on socks he presses a soft kiss against your hairline. yanking on a top you watch as he pauses by the doorframe.

"I'm going to the grocery store. You coming with?"

"No."

he nods and leaves, the door clicks and you're left alone. standing, you're pissed as you redress yourself. padding out into the kitchen you stew in your upset for a few minutes. it’s all you can last before that uncomfortable sticky feeling takes over and you wander into the bathroom for a quick shower. keeping your hair safe from the water you rinse your body off with a layer of soap.

walking through your kitchen you tighten your towel and slip on your slippers. rooting through the fridge you remove a few ingredients and start cooking something small. rice boils and onion sits as you go to change. throwing on one of his worn shirts you slip on underwear and you’re ready to go. going back to cooking you’re just finishing up when the lock clicks. looking over you give him a gentle smile, an apology dying on your lips.

“Cooking won’t work.”

“I’m just making dinner, I promise.”

“That late already?”

“Yes, sir.”

you’re joking, mostly, the sir having a playful edge to it. he stiffens before coming over to dip his fingers in the food. smacking his hand away you tsk at him and he retreats with a frown. you shake your head and start plating, the ding from your oven letting you know the bread is done. carrying both plates you resist his help as you transfer the sides from the counter to the table.

when everything is organized you climb into your chair. he takes his place and watches as you divvy the sides. making sure his plate is piled high you smile at him. you wait patiently for him to try it, and let you know what he thinks before you eat. he takes a few bites before placing his hand over yours.

“That bad?”

“Oh, just terrible.”

you smile and begin to eat your fill. the evening is filled with soft talking. a silly story while daeho was at the grocery store with your meal. talking about work schedules as you rinse the dishes together. lighthearted laughter over some goofy tiktok you found while he scrolled instagram.

you almost forgot about the ache between your legs. almost. the hand that's been snug against your hip dips lower. caressing your butt he dips his fingers further and rests them between your thighs. chewing on the inside of your cheek you attempt to go back to mindless scrolling.

“Stand up. Perfect, come here.”

turning you climb onto his lap. spreading your legs you grind down on him once. he immediately stills your movements as a simple warning. you take the hint and stay still waiting for instruction. he simply assesses you. hands gripping at the hem of your shirt. pulling it off you're left shivering in the air conditioning.

reaching up he grabs at your chest. your nipples being tweaked and rubbed as you struggle to stay silent. blinking slow you tilt your head at the feeling. he dips his head low and takes a perk nipple between his lips. slapping a hand over your mouth you muffle your sounds. he spends the next few minutes focused. you shift uncomfortably as pain overtakes the pleasure.

“Dae-ho. It hurts.”

“You can take a little more. Can’t you?”

when you shake your head no he sighs but lets up. he enjoys pressing a few hot kisses to your neck. smiling softly you hold back giggles as he tickles some spots with his eyelashes. he breaks away to look up at you.

“You’re being so docile, rabbit.”

you scoff despite the heat rising to cover your face. cupping his face you muster up the cutest little pout.

“Can I move? Pretty please?”

he nods and you smile. pecking him on the lips you slowly grind yourself down against his lap. humming softly you rest your forehead against his. with both eyes closed you feel him getting hard. you smile to yourself. leaning in for another kiss he moves out of the way much to your chagrin. you immediately feel upset at the rejection but instead of indulging you he stands you up. crossing your arms, you seriously risk losing out on an orgasm tonight, but you bite your tongue. standing there half naked and chilly you wait for him to offer solace.

taking your body in his arms he walks you into the bedroom. nice and slow, he hugs you tightly and guides you backwards. your arms are trapped between you but you enjoy it, just being held by him. he guides you until you're resting comfortably against the edge of the bed. hoisting you up, his muscles flex under your light grip. you feel like a damn slip and slide and it's all his fault.

pressing a kiss to his jawline you reach down and take his cock in your hand. spreading your legs you hope he won't be upset with you. he steps forward and that's all the confidence you need. guiding the tip of his cock you rub it gently against your clit. his breath hitches and you chew on the inside of your lip. you simply continue circling your clit with his tip until you're both leaking. with a shaky hand he stops you before guiding your hand lower.

you slip his tip between your lips and he yanks you forward closer to the edge of the bed. this makes him suddenly bottom out in one smooth movement. for a second you're rendered useless. your mouth falls open and your eyes twitch at the stretch. his face softens and he cups your cheeks in soft palms. you blink up at him already feeling yourself go dumb. this is exactly what you’ve wanted all day and you weren't about to lose the opportunity. with your last remaining braincells rubbing together in your skull you pant.

“Please don't stop.”

“Any pain?”

“No. Please.”

he doesn't pry further and pulls out of you slightly. closing your eyes you tilt your head. you're struggling to keep your eyes open, one eye starting to twitch at the effort. his thrusts are slow but meaningful. sharp sounds are pulled from your chest and you don't think you could muffle them even if you tried.

you don't even realize you're crying until his thumbs are rubbing at your cheeks. once you notice you’re unable to stop them. rubbing at your cheek you give a wet moan. he presses a gentle kiss to your lips and swallows every hiccup and sob. his thrusts speed up and he adds in deep grinding. curling into him you wrap your arms around his neck.

his thrusts become short and fast as his climax approaches. your legs tighten around his waist. reaching down he circles your clit with his middle finger. gasping out you malfunction as your orgasm crashes over you. he follows suit a few strokes later. you maintain your hold on him and don't let up even when he tries to pull away.

“We need to get cleaned up.”

“I’m comfortable.”

“We can cuddle after. Take a shower with me.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky.”

you loosen your grip and let him slip away from you. stretching, you pop your back and slowly shuffle your way into the bathroom. closing the door on him you use the bathroom and open the door for him to join you as you dry your hands. happily you hop into the warm shower with him. you relax into his grip as he massages soap into your shoulders.

[beckyninja]

Hope

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: So. Much. Angst.

Description: Guilliman mourns his beloved's "death".

Oof, this was a rough one to write, even though it's short. I've really put this poor blueberry through the wringer.

(This is a continuation of my Guilliman x Reader series. To find the previous chapters, check out my Masterlist.)

Guilliman observed the rage in Captain Takahashi’s black eyes as if from a great distance. Dimly, he registered her voice as she bent over the holographic star map.

“We will come to the beginning of the Wards in a few standard hours’ time.” She gestured with her left arm, the right ending in a bandaged stump just below the elbow. “I’ll need a moment to observe the maelstrom and discern the patterns, before I can begin imparting instructions.”

The Chief Navigator stood at her elbow, double-jointed fingers steepled before his gray lips. “These ‘Wards’, you say? They are a… maze, in the Warp?”

“And out of it.”

“How is this possible?”

Guilliman let his gaze drift between the two.

The Captain’s eyes remained fixed on the map. “You’d call it, Archeotech. The secrets of its creation have been lost to time though, thank the Light, TerraNova’s original colonists preserved the knowledge of its maintenance. I am no engineer, but every school child learns how our forebears scattered mechanical ‘beacons’ of a sort behind them as they fled the Machine War.” 

Pressing her remaining hand to her lips, she gave a single, tearing cough. A medica in a charred uniform, half her face bandaged, stepped forward.

“Captain, you should return to the infirmary for your next round of anti-rads.”

Captain Takahashi waved her away. “In a moment, Lieutenant.” She returned to the star map. “As I was saying, these ‘beacons’ emit frequencies that twist both the Warp and Realspace, bending reality and unreality into a knot of ever-shifting pathways. The Wards.”

The Navigator’s white eyes widened. “As a child I heard rumors… stories of Navigators caught in such knots… driven mad….” His head jerked toward the Captain. “How do your people pass through such insanity?”

“Few ever do.” The Captain’s lips tightened. “But for those who must, we are taught to recognize the patterns in the maelstrom, our reflexes sharpened to make split-second navigational corrections. It is a brutal process, and in the last few decades has mostly been delegated to new navigational computers.” A sharp snort. “Mine, which now happens to be charred debris in the void.”

Something rose inside Guilliman, clawing at his shield of detachment. “You made promises, Captain Takahashi.”

Every soul in the room, even his Ultramarines, flinched. The TerraNovan Lieutenant cowered back against a wall. 

The Captain trembled a moment, then turned to face him. “I did. And I will keep them, Lord Guilliman.” Her eyes rose to his face, but did not meet his gaze. “I am of the last generation of naval officers trained to manually navigate the Wards. I will see your fleet through.”

“Some would call your actions treasonous.”

Her eyes managed to meet his. “All those to whom I swore oaths of service betrayed me, Lord Guilliman. Because of them, hundreds of my crew are dead. Not just proud voidsmen and women of our Navy, but the families who sailed with them. Children. The ship we called our home lies a broken corpse.”

Her eyes dropped away. “I failed them. And I failed the only one of our royal family for whom I felt any true loyalty. Let them call it treason.” She clenched her one fist.

“I call it vengeance.”

For a brief moment, a flicker of understanding passed between them. Primarch and Captain. He felt himself nod before turning away and exiting the room.

He moved without conscious thought, feet following patterns drilled into him long before his ten thousand year stasis. Corridors, doors, people all passed in a blur. The cacophony of the ship morphed into a meaningless babble. Vaguely, he registered the heavy tramp of ceramite boots behind him.

Too late did he realize his destination.

The door to your quarters stood before him.

No….

His hand reached for the control panel.

No…!

He watched himself enter the code, heard the hiss of sliding metal as the portal opened into darkness.

Stop….

But his body refused to obey. Or, perhaps, it obeyed some urge far more powerful than conscious will. He heard himself ordering his guard to remain outside, and stepped through the door…

…into memory.

Your scent rose all around him, overwhelming, choking. It shattered the frigid defenses he’d erected around his mind and hearts. It stabbed. It soothed. He loved it. He hated it.

He stumbled forward, hands pawing blindly until they met the bed. His knees buckled. He crashed to the floor, hands still tangled in the sheets that smelled achingly of you. 

You…you…you…you….

You, standing before him for the first time, single heartbeat fluttering like a bird in his ears.

You, face earnest as you advocate for the home and people you care for.

You, giggling at one of his ill-timed, foolish jests.

You, laid out beneath him, eyes shining as you tell him you love-

“No…,” Guilliman groaned, “stop. Please….”

The memories ceased, replaced by something far, far worse.

You, dressed in purest white, standing before him at the altar, pledging love and faithfulness for the rest of your days.

You, blushing fiercely, as he presents their new Lady to the cheering crowds of Macragge.

You, panting his name as he worships your perfect body.

“No, no, no!” He buried his face in your sheets, only for the concentrated fragrance they carried to unlock his most searing fantasy.

You, glowing with joy as you bounce a golden-haired child on your hip, your belly growing round yet again.

“Pater! Pater!”

“Come, Roboute! Work will wait. Come spend time with your family, my love!”

Roboute Guilliman, Primarch, Lord Regent of the Imperium of Man, wept.

He did not weep as he had as a young man when Konor Guilliman, his true father, lay dying before him. He did not weep as he had when, after his reawakening, he discovered the memorial to Tarasha Euten deep within the Fortress of Hera.

Even in those times, he’d known there to be a future beyond his pain.

But now….

Fabric tore as his fists clenched around the sheets. He raised his eyes to find one of the innumerable skulls carved into every surface upon the ship. A grisly symbol of the deity supposedly watching over them all.

“Why?” His voice felt ripped from the bleeding center of his being. “If you have the power people say, why do you use it to torment me?” 

He staggered to his feet, still clasping the torn sheets. “Have I not given enough? Did you find me undeserving of even the smallest modicum of happiness? Why, then, did you let me feel it, only to rip it away?”

His next words came as an agonized roar. “Why did you give me hope?!”

The very cruelest of punishments.

Guilliman looked down at the shreds of fabric in his hand. “What did she do to deserve your ire?”

But, deep within, he knew the truth. The Emperor had not doomed you. He had. His love was a poison worse than any follower of Nurgle could concoct.

Hadn’t everyone he ever cared for died?

“I am sorry. Oh Throne, I am so sorry, my love.” Once again, he buried his face in your fragrance. “Forgive me. Please, forgive me.”

He knew he tortured himself. He also knew he deserved it.

Vengeance and rage could only light his steps for so long. He would destroy all who had taken you from him. And then their fire would flicker out, leaving him with nothing but a cold, lonely trudge into the gray of the future.

At the thought, all strength left him. 

Roboute Guilliman curled onto the floor, knees tucked to his chest, whimpering like a child left alone in the dark.

…ping….

His eyes snapped open.

…ping…ping….

He clawed to his feet, chest heaving in great gasps. 

…ping….

Guilliman hurtled from the room, nearly bowling over Cato Sicarius. The Commander’s queries went unheeded as he crashed through the great gilded doors at the end of the corridor and into his personal office.

ping…ping…ping…

There, on his desk, lay a small vox receiver, gifted to him by Captain Takahashi. The unfamiliar device was set to receive one specific frequency from one specific source: a miniaturized beacon set into a band of gold and sapphire.

A band he’d placed upon your finger minutes before you left the Macragge’s Honor.

“If you need me, press the largest gem in the ring. A beacon will activate.” He’d grasped your chin, ensuring you looked into his eyes. “And I will come for you.”

Ping!

The receiver lit with a pulsing, golden light.

And hope, that cruelest and most enduring of flames, ignited in Guilliman’s hearts once more.

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

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Please comment if you'd like to be added/removed from the Taglist.

[taesanluv3r]

i confess.

han taesan x reader

inspired by an idea from my pookie bear @myugjh03 <3 yn falls in love w the admin of her school's anonymous confessions account, cute v-day dance, eunchae of lsrfim as yn's bestie! no warnings really, maybe a cuss word or two - also the texting parts yn's texts r bold and italicized n other characters r just italicized!! enjoyy

wc: 5,349

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staracademy_fess has requested to follow you!

yn ln yawns as the notifications on her phone blurred into her vision. her eyes glanced up towards the time, sighing when she decides it might finally be time to get ready for school.

the girl hums along to the tune blasting off of her tiny pill-shaped speaker, wrapping herself in a robe and beginning to exit the bathroom. she sits at her vanity after putting on her clothes, resuming her usual morning routine. the song playing gets cut off by a familiar sound, "who dare to text me when i'm so busy?!" she quotes the famous meme, cracking herself up as she reaches to pick up her phone. "huh?" she says out loud, questioning the message request that had just popped up on her screen.

staracademy_fess replied to your story: 'realest opinion ever.'

her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 'that's so random...' she thought. yn knew of the account; an instagram page made by a student at her school where people could send in anonymous tips. it was a recent thing, the account just randomly popped up about three weeks ago, when the school had just reopened after the holidays. it was an interesting blog, and she wasn't going to lie she quite enjoyed scrolling through it's posts every now and then. 'this is so gossip girl' she'd say as she giggles at an anonymous tip dissing her ex-situationship.

but what was so random?

well, for one, she had no clue who ran the account. and for them to be replying to her story like that? seems a bit friendly for a stranger don't you think? still confused, yn decides to take a screenshot of the floating notification. she enters her password and runs straight to the messaging app to text her best-friend.

does this confess account reply to everyone's story or am i special?

the girl hits send before reverting back to the mirror in front of her, checking her reflection as she continues doing her make up.

well ik he follows everyone...but i never heard of him replying off of people's story????? maybe he likes you pookie lol

her friend's response puts her into a deep thinking session. 'he?...you mean this is a guy?' she wonders what she should do next. should she respond to him right away? is he really a him? who is he? was her friend right? does this person like her?

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"i don't know though...i mean he's really sweet and funny and he matches my energy..i just lowkey wished i knew who he was"

yn ln and the anonymous admin of their school's confess account have been talking for about a week now. it all started when she had finally decided to reply to his random text...

realest opinion ever.

she recalls the message, a response to her instagram story. it was a picture of her laptop - on it, a screencap of kurt cobain in his iconic green cardigan playing the guitar. the caption was, 'if the doctor told me i had an hour and thirty three minutes left to live, trust i will be watching this video on my death bed!'

what do you know about nirvana mtv unplugged 1993 🙄

her cocky and satirical reply was the first thing that ignited their witty relationship. what he said to her following that was something along the lines of, "more than you, i bet".

as they began to have long, daily conversations with each other, yn ln was beginning to find out more and more about him. by the one week mark she had figured out his age, his major, his hobbies, favourite foods, colours, songs, even his childhood dreams. she knew almost everything about him! well, if you take away the fact that she didn't really know anything about him at all...not his name, not his face, nor who he really is.

that didn't stop her though. she liked him. that much she knew. she liked how he typed, she liked his opinions, she liked that he matched energies with her, most of all she liked that he seemed to like her too. and a girl like yn would never let anything come in between her and someone she liked - no, not even an anonymous identity. i mean, it was only about time until he revealed himself, right? she can wait.

"so you're practically e-dating this guy...and you don't even know who he is? aren't you curious at all? what if he's a creep? or worse! what if he's...ugly"

eunchae, the girl's best-friend, squeaks, already thinking of every worst case scenario available. yn rolls her eyes, "first of all, we aren't e-dating! second of all, maybe i can see through his looks? i'm not that shallow!" she accidentally yells out the last part of her sentence, earning weird looks from the other students in the hallway. eunchae giggles, patting her friend on the back as they begin to walk to their classroom.

on the way there, yn continues to ramble on and on about her anonymous lover, starting to make guesses of his identity, "what if he's hot, that would be so incredibly perfect...like imagine if he was one of the boys from myung jaehyun's friend group...they're all hot". her focus was so out of it that she fails to see the boy crouching down near the lockers. her eyes grow wide as she stumbles over him, tripping and falling right on her ass.

"ow...fuck that hurt" she whines, still seated on the floor. laughs escape the mouth of her best-friend, who was busy recording yn's epic fail instead of helping her up. she rolls her eyes before they scan to find the poor boy she tripped on. this poor boy, however, was definitely not who she thought he was.

yn gasps when she comes face to face with none other than han taesan, one of the popular seniors from that friend group she was just yapping about. yeah, myung jaehyun's one, that's right...the one with all the insanely and unnecessarily hot people.

"are you gonna get up or...?" his voice shakes her out of her thoughts, "huh? oh! right...ahem...sorry" she clears her throat, avoiding eye contact as she begins to pick her things up and off of the ground. she doesn't know for sure but the girl swears she could feel him smile at her from behind, her assumptions proven true when she catches him giggle. "what?" yn asks, voice going all snarky all of a sudden. it catches taesan by surprise, "nothing...i just think you're cute, that's all" her eyes get big again, "m...me? cute?" she was sure her face was bright red by now. he laughs again, a lot more cocky this time, a smug look on his face like he knew something she didn't.

"see you around, yn" the boy says, beginning to walk away. 'he knows my name?' she thought, watching as he stops in his tracks and turns to face her again.

"oh! and maybe watch where you're going next time"

he was gone after that, chasing the school bell into his classroom. "what was that about? see you around, yn" eunchae wonders, mocking the guy's tone of voice as she repeated his words. "beats me...weirdo" yn says, resuming her own trek towards her math class. "you can't call him a weirdo if you're the one who tripped on him" her friend's words make her scoff, "well he didn't have to be so cocky about it!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

and then what happened?

yn ln flops onto her bed, biting her lip softly as her fingers move to type. she was texting him, you see, she was texting her mystery man. it became a routine for her to do so, coming home after school and telling him all about her day. well, if there was anything significant about her day that is. otherwise, they'd be sending each other silly reels and song recommendations - which, as much as she loved it, did get a bit boring and substance-less after a while.

luckily - or, unluckily? - for her today, she had a fun story to share with him.

and then i totally freaked, and he was being so insanely annoying and cocky about it...like dude you're hot, we know that! doesn't mean you get to be all asshole-y

she sighs in frustration as she remembers the events of a few hours ago, waiting patiently for a text back. it usually didn't take long for one, the anonymous guy was a pretty fast texter. however, for whatever reason this time, it seemed to be taking him years to type. yn is confused, 'what could he be typing?' until alas, the bubble on his end stops moving, a message replacing it.

maybe you should've watched where you were going. i mean you DID trip on him cause you weren't focused

the girl's heart stops for a moment. there was something wrong with his text, yet she couldn't for the life of her tell what it was. it just felt...odd - like the person she had just been chatting with disappeared into thin air. there was a hint of passive-aggressiveness in his tone; maybe she was overthinking it...i mean it wouldn't be the first time he was cold and sarcastic with her. that's just how he is.

you know what's funny? that's exactly what he said lmao...no way...don't tell me the man behind this account is THE han taesan LMAOO

yn didn't think much of it when she typed up that response, she knew there was no way in hell such a popular and handsome guy like taesan would run such a dumb and silly confession account...right?

shit...have to help my dad set up a new TV, ttyl

their conversation ended there. again, she paid no mind to it's sudden end. she knew he'd reach out to her again a little later, possibly to moan and groan about how much of a hard time he had setting up the television.

yn only began to worry when that didn't happen. it had actually been hours since their last conversation and he hadn't squeaked a single word to her - not even a single stupid reel, not even a song recommendation.

where'd he go?

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"why do you look like that?" eunchae asks, sitting beside her best-friend at the school cafeteria. "like what?" the girl replies with another question. "i don't know...maybe like you just witnessed someone kill off your entire bloodline?" yn rolls her eyes, not uttering another word. "you've been looking gloomy all week...ever since..." eunchae gasps, "is this because of when you tripped over han taesan? cause if it is...girl, i can delete the video if you want me to" this time the girl looks at her friend in disbelief. "oh god, it is because of that, isn't it? girl, you should've just said so and i would-" she doesn't let her friend finish. "you took a video?! and no it isn't because of that...but you took a video?!"

eunchae chuckles as she nods, "i promise i'll delete it...but if it's not cause of that...then what?" yn sighs, "if i tell you, promise not to laugh?" she asks, some kind of a hopeful gaze in her eyes. her friend nods enthusiastically, "when have i ever laughed at your misfortune" - "eunchae. i'm serious" her face is stern, not even a hint of playfulness, and her friend obliged.

"it's the confessions guy..." yn starts, her voice quieting down as she trails off. "you mean your mystery lover boy?" the girl nods, "we haven't texted in four days now..." eunchae's eyes widen in shock, "what? why?!" she seemed just as furious as the girl was. "that's the thing, i don't know! last time we talked i was telling him all about tripping over taesan...he was being unusually cold and dry...then he left to help his dad set up a new TV and then he never texted me since..." her voice was glum, like she was genuinely lost and upset about this whole thing. her friend's gaze softened, "have you tried reaching out to him first?" yn shook her head, "i don't know why...i just can't bring myself to"

eunchae pats the girl on her back, "hey...what if you just give him a few more hours, and if he doesn't text you then just text first, how about that?" yn sighs, "do i have any other choice?" the other girl smiles as she shakes her head, "nope!"

later that day yn ln goes home from school, still feeling like shit. she frowns as she turns her speaker on, a loud ding sound letting her know the bluetooth was connected to her phone. a tune begins to fill the gaps in her room, reality by richard sanderson, one of his favourites.

the girl groans as she throws herself onto the bed, not caring enough to change out of her uniform. she rolls over to lay on her back, staring up at the posters on her ceiling - namely, the giant one in the middle, a poster of the guy who had brought her and the anonymous boy together in the first place. before she even realized, yn had begun to talk to it.

"oh, kurt...whatever should i do?! this is all your fault. if i hadn't put your stupid performance on my story that day then he wouldn't have replied, we wouldn't have talked, i wouldn't have fallen in love with him...i don't even know his fucking name! kurt...how cooked am i? i spend every waking hour thinking about him, guessing his identity, wondering what i did wrong to have him ignore me like this! it's unfair...why does every relationship i get into end this way?"

the last bit of her unscripted monologue brings tears to her eyes. it was true. yn ln had quite the history of horrible relationships. hell, some wouldn't even consider them relationships. the first guy she dated only did it because he was dared to, the next guy decided he was actually into his own sex half-way through their one week long relationship, the last guy she was with - well, she was never really dating him, he was a dick and she was naive enough to like him for his looks and status. all in all, she's never been successful in the love department - she found that no one really got her...until he did.

"why is it that the one guy who actually understood me has to be some fucking anonymous admin...i mean, seriously? and even then...it seems i blew it already, didn't i?" yn whines, starting to get annoyed at the fact that her posters stayed quiet - duh, they're posters! she rolls over again, just far enough to reach her phone. the girl wasn't planning on doing anything on it, but like clockwork her fingers naturally lead her to his chatroom. she stared at it, as if staring would do anything to fix the situation she was in. that is, until it did.

the animation on his side of the chat, indicating that he had begun to type, sent her heart flying. her eyes went wide, mouth dropping opened as if she were going to scream - she didn't though, her parents were home. yn bites her lips, her face so close to the screen she swore she could feel how her eye-sight worsened by the second. and then the animation stopped, a second later it was replaced with a body of text.

are you going to the v-day masquerade dance tomorrow?

that's it? yn didn't know what to think; so she didn't, she let her thumbs do all the thinking for her.

YOU DONT SPEAK TO ME FOR FOUR WHOLE DAYS AND YOU DONT EVEN START WITH A HI? A SORRY????

look, i'm sorry about that i just...i was doing a lot of thinking and stuff

she rolls her eyes, 'what a lame excuse' she thought. still, she couldn't stop herself from smiling softly, she really missed him.

about what??? what could you have possibly been thinking SO much about that you don't talk to me!??!?!

well that's the thing...i was thinking a lot about us.

'huh?' if yn ln wasn't confused all week, she was definitely confused now.

wdym us?

it takes him exactly four minutes and twenty seconds to reply. she knows this because the moment she sent her text, how was your day? by beabadoobee started playing, and it ended the minute his message came in.

will you meet me at the masquerade dance, or no?

for some reason, his words annoy her a bit.

i don't know anything about ur appearance and u expect me to meet u in a dark gym hall where every guy is wearing a suit and a MASK??

well that's the point, love. i trust you'll know it's me in the moment...unless you're not curious about me at all then that's fine i guess we'll just never meet

what a bitch. she's intrigued though.

fine, i'll see you tomorrow then

see you there 💖

yn ln genuinely smiles for the first time in four days, laying down on her back to stare up at her posters again. "well kurt, it seems this love story isn't entirely over yet...you think he'll finally reveal himself to me tomorrow night?" she asks out loud, as if the pieces of paper she talked to could respond. "shit!" she exclaimed all of a sudden, sitting up straight.

"what do i wear?!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"does this look dumb or...?"

yn ln asks for the nth time, twirling around in her thousandth outfit idea for her best-friend to judge through their face-time call. "ew no, i liked the last one better, this one doesnt match your mask- wait try the last dress with that one fluffy bolero you have" eunchae's voice came out a second late due to the connection issues, but yn could understand her just fine. "okay wait let me try that" she says, disappearing from the camera's view and into her closet.

"how's this? cute right?" the girl smiles, spinning around to give her bestie a full 360 view. her dress was a light baby pink and it was short, stopping right above her knees. she wore a pair of tights underneath to prevent getting dress-coded, and a pretty white faux-fur bolero over her shoulders to shield her from the cold. her whole outfit matched perfectly with her silver mask, fine specs of pink and white glitter decorating it's surface. "yes! love it!" eunchae cheered, "what shoes are you wearing?" - "i want to wear the pink platforms...but what if he's short and then our super sweet kiss scene gets awkward?" she caught her friend rolling her eyes through the screen, "wear the white mary janes then, it matches your bolero anyways"

"okay...make up time!"

the girl spends the next few hours touching up her looks for the big night. she stares in the mirror over and over, making sure there wasn't anything abnormally wrong with her. yn slumps down onto her bed, careful not to wrinkle her dress. she sighs, an odd sensation bubbling up in her stomach.

"what am i so worried of?" she asked, eyes lingering at her reflection. the pinging of her phone removes her from her trance, a smile replacing the fearful look on her face as she read the message, his message.

you're not having second thoughts, are you? let me know when you're there

it's all or nothing now.

after making sure she didn't forget anything, yn jumps into the passenger seat of her dad's car. "you good, kid?" he asks, noticing the uneasy look on his daughter's face. "huh? yeah, i'm good, dad...let's go" the man nods, "whatever it is, i'm sure this'll fix it!" he said, a pointer finger reaching out towards the radio, pressing play. the girl laughs as a nostalgic tune enters her ears, black or white by michael jackson. "remember when you'd beg me to play this on the way to kindergarten?" she nods along to her dad's words, beginning to sing along to the song with him.

they make it to the school's campus in no time, stopping the car right at the drop off zone. "thanks for driving, dad. sorry i didn't tell you sooner...didn't think i was coming until i got asked" the man shakes his head, "anything for you, kiddo - can i ask why you won't tell me who the lucky boy is?" yn smirked, "i would love to, dad...i just...don't know who he is either!" that response made mr. ln's eyebrows knit together in confusion, but before he could ask anymore questions, the girl had waved him goodbye and disappeared into the building.

"oh, yn...whatever you're up to...please don't hurt yourself"

yn puts on her mask before entering the gymnasium; the usually sweaty and sports-full area had been completely turned into that of a ballroom. valentine's day themed decorations hung on every corner, hearts and bows completing the scenery. the girl smiles, wondering why it took her this long to ever attend these annual school events. 'who knew this dump was capable of looking so pretty?' that was the last clear thought she had before her conscience returned to reality. all of a sudden the heart-shaped lanterns weren't all that lovely, the romantic music playing earlier had turned into loud and hardcore techno, and worst of all the people inside the gym with her seemed to have multiplied by tenfold.

at this point it was getting too much to bear. she could barely see out of the tiny eye-holes of her mask to begin with, how was she supposed to find her mystery man in this crowd? a second away from panicking, yn escapes the rowdy gym and finds solace in the quiet hallways. she pulls her mask off for a moment to breathe, a hand clutching onto her chest - maybe this is why she never cared to go to these dances.

the girl reaches into her hand-bag, pulling out her phone. her thumbs danced against the screen and she opened up instagram to text her anonymous date.

where r u???? it's too loud i hate it i wanna go home

he replies right away.

agreed, i'll wait for you in your classroom...it's quiet and empty here

yn doesn't text back, simply nodding to herself. she gulps and takes in a deep breath as she pulls the mask over her head again. she straightens her back, walking towards her classroom and stopping right at the foot of the door. she could see his figure through the textured glass windows; he faced away from her, all she could make out was his black suit and the back of his head, where the ribbons of his mask dug into his hair. this was it. she was finally inches away from meeting the boy she had been so in love with the past few weeks, inches away from knowing his real identity. yn couldn't wait another moment - yet, at the very same time, something was stopping her from entering the room. a sense of severe nervousness rushing through her veins.

he must've felt her lingering presence and she watched as the figure inside the room turned in her direction. both masked, identities hidden, yet it felt like they could see right through each other. as if telepathically, yn felt him call for her; though he didn't utter a word. with that, the palm of her hands finally came in contact with the door, pushing it forward ever so slightly and allowing herself in.

"hey"

yn gasps as he speaks to her for the first time, his voice doesn't sound foreign at all, but she can't remember where she'd heard it from before. "hey..." her tone is more hushed than usual, breathy as she walked closer to him. they stood beside each other now, staring out the classroom's window, and up at rising moon. the girl can't help but stare at him, scanning everything that was visible to her. he's here now, flesh and skin in front of her. his dark hair, his pale skin, his tall build, his pink lips, and his milky brown eyes hidden behind his deep maroon coloured mask that covered the top half of his face. but still, she hadn't a clue who he was.

the mystery man chuckles, breaking their silence. "you can stop staring at me, yn...i'm not going anywhere" she opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out, she couldn't speak no matter how hard she tried. the pair went back to looking out the window in silence, there was no sense of awkwardness in the air though. in fact, it was nothing but comfortable.

"i like you"

it takes yn a solid ten seconds to process the words that came out of his mouth. even after they sunk into her mind she stood frozen, shocked. "w...what?" the boy's smile is visible, "i like you, yn...do you like me too?" there's a hint of playfulness in his voice, it was as though this whole ordeal wasn't too big a deal to him - unlike the way it was to her.

"i don't even know you...how am i supposed to tell whether what i feel for you is real or not?!" her tone was a lot stronger than she had planned, she gasped and slapped a hand to her mouth. she didn't mean to yell, the pressure of the situation stressed her out in ways she swore no one could imagine. the masked boy didn't fight back though, she could see his eyes softening beneath plastic that covered his face as he stared into her own. they held eye-contact for what felt like ages, no other sound apart from the loud beating in their chests. "yn..." he calls out for her, though his previously playful tone was long gone now. "yeah?" she questioned, barely above a listenable decibel.

"can i kiss you?"

her eyes get big and the girl contemplates for a second. she decides that the only correct answer was yes. besides, this was the moment she'd been yearning for all week, wasn't it?

her slight nod was all the confirmation the boy needed before he took a step closer towards her. he leans down until they were just a single breath away from one another. his hands were cold as they pressed lightly against her blushing cheeks, pulling her in. suddenly, the pair was devoid of space, their masks making a clinking sound as their lips crashed against each other's. the kiss was intense, more than anything else; a hint of desperation in the way his hands snaked down to her waist, her own ones placed against his neck.

the growing moonlight illuminated the scene, neither of them planning to let go any time soon. as the kiss began to get more passionate, yn's fingers found their way into his hair, playing with it's ends then moving up to where the ribbons of his mask sat in a knot. she doesn't give it another thought, pulling on the strings until they came undone. the boy gasps, eyes widening as they finally pull apart, the plastic material falling to the ground between them.

a breath escapes the girl's lips, her eyes beginning to water at the sight in front of her. a mixture of shock and confusion painting her complexion as she furrows her eyebrows. she can't even bring herself to blink, this was too unreal. the mystery identity of the boy she had fallen so deeply in love with...

"t...taesan?"

he sighs.

"y...yeah"

yn takes in another deep breath before ultimately breaking into a fit of laughter. "why...why are you laughing?" taesan is the confused one now, watching through knitted brows as the girl before him pulls herself together. "nothing...i just didn't think it was really you..." she said, beginning to remove her own mask. the boy's eyes glimmer a little, "what?" she asks, tossing the silver plastic onto a desk. "you're so pretty" he says, reaching his hand out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. she smiles, leaning her face into his palm.

"thank you...and i'm sorry" taesan tilts his head to the side, "for what?" she laughs again, "for bitching about tripping over han taesan and calling him an asshole...i had no clue i was talking directly to him...sorry" the boy chuckles, "yeah, that was kind of mean you know?" he pouted dramatically, something about his face made her heart skip a beat. "is that why you totally ignored me for four days after?" he was taken aback by her sudden inquiry, "maybe...sorry about that, love" her cheeks turned a deep shade of pink from the nickname. "but you know..." taesan speaks again, stepping closer and slipping his hands into hers.

"you should really watch where you're going next time!"

the familiarity of his statement sends the girl through a trip of deja vu, "you know that's technically your fault...i was thinking about who you were after all, and then i couldn't focus and then i tripped!" he smiles, "does that mean you like me too?" she rolls her eyes, "i never said that" - "but you never said you didn't"

yn ln sighs in defeat, watching the smug grin that was making it's way onto han taesan's lips. "how about you kiss me again? maybe after that i'll know whether i like you or not" the boy laughs, "you just want to kiss me, i think that's proof enough" she shakes her head in disbelief, "shut up, please?" - "make me"

and with that the space between them vanished once more, their noses bumping and their breaths short as they kissed. it didn't last as long as their last one, separating for air after the first two minutes. "okay...i confess..." yn says as she catches her breath. "mhm?" taesan hums, staring into her eyes.

"i like you too"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"oh, that's my ride!"

yn waves, signaling for her dad to come towards her. the window of the passenger seat rolls down, and the pair are met with a sleepy looking mr. ln.

"hey dad, this is my boyfriend, taesan!" the girl chirped joyfully, shooting her dad a smile. "uh...hello, mr. ln...it's nice to meet you!" the boy has a hopeful look on his face, biting down on his lip worriedly as the older man began to eye him down. "nice to meet you, kid! you better be treating my princess right...if you break her heart" - "dad! stop scaring him! we just got together, don't shoo him away"

both the guys laugh at yn's outrage. "bye, taesan. thanks for tonight, is it too early to say i love you?" the boy smiles, "thank you. and no it isn't, i love you too...and" he pulls her into a hug, leaning closer to whisper into her ear, "it's too scary to kiss you in front of your dad so i'll do that another time"

taesan watches as yn gets into her car, "i'll pick you up tomorrow, yeah? we could get froyo and go to the record store and-" he gets cut off as the girl's dad butts in. "record store? you into music, taesan?" he nods excitedly, "yes sir! love it more than anything in the world...well, maybe not as much as i love your daughter" the older man scoffs, "that's what i like to hear...how you getting home, kid?" he asks, "i'm driving. my car's parked over there" he pointed towards the parking lot and the two guys share a few more nods.

"well then, get home safe, kid"

"i will, thank you. you guys get home safe too! um, text me when you're home, okay?" yn smiles up at her boyfriend, "mhm! see you tomorrow, bye!"

she rolls her window back up as her dad begins to drive away. "i like him" her dad says all of a sudden. "yeah?" she asks, wanting confirmation from her father who just nods.

"i like him too"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

ahhhhh this fic is kinda longggg i was working on it for six hours straight TT tysm to eli my pookiebear for this awesome ideaaaa i hope i did it justice <3!! also yn ranting to her cobain poster and then taesan getting along w her dad a bit at the end is so cutesy so true!!!! anyways, thx for reading - i hope u liked this one! reblogs n feedbacks r always appreciated :3 love, kona.

[screamofdespair]

佐藤真人 Masato Sato is one of the veteran artists who worked on the Detective Conan anime from the very beginning, bringing a distinct directorial style that left a strong impression. He contributed to many important episodes of the series, several original episodes, and even worked on some Detective Conan movies. Although he served as the series director at one point in the production (333-504), various changes in the anime staff prevented him from going beyond what he was already accustomed to doing.

His prime lies in the early seasons of Detective Conan, and here’s a highlight of his work.

When it comes to Sato’s shot compositions, his episodes feature a significant number of wide, medium and perspective shots. Most of the time, he has a particular attachment to the central subject of his compositions (whether a single character or a group), deliberately framing them as if viewed through a slightly open door, drawing the spectator’s eye toward them while still allowing the entire shot to be taken in (The Megure's one for exemple).

Additionally, he also has a strong fondness for high-angle shots, using them frequently. Sato is an artist who plays extensively with the Art Direction.

Sato loves to play with the power of light sources, both outdoors and indoors. In his episodes, for example, you can often see a strong brightness in one corner of the frame, creating an interesting visual style.

He also likes to experiment with colors, often applying filters during moments of reflection or flashbacks to enhance the mood.

Sato and Animation Director Akio Kawamura worked together frequently in the early days, which naturally led to the "creation" of the Kawamura pose.

Sato is an artist who also reminds us how important an Episode's Direction by a single individual is and how much it varies depending on talented artists. For example, when an episode storyboarded by Sato is directed by someone like Yasuichiro Yamamoto, it doesn’t always feel the same as when Sato himself directs his own storyboard. A simple example is that during Conan’s moments of reflection, Yamamoto often likes to rotate the character, whereas Sato does not. Instead, he prefers to use the background to convey story elements by using a pan (left or right). Of course, artists like Yamamoto can make minor changes, but it's also important to remember that some artists create storyboards with the skill level of the Episode’s Director/Animators in mind. This allows them to incorporate more complex elements into the storyboard.

Left : Sato (Storyboard/Episode Direction by himself) and Righ : Yamamoto (Storyboard by Sato and Episode Direction by Yamamoto.)

When it comes to Episode Direction, it's worth noting that episodes directed by Sato (even if not storyboarded by himself) are often among the strongest in terms of artistic direction. Episode #196 is a perfect example of this. When he is solely responsible for the storyboard, his influence is so strong that the Episode Director naturally brings a similar energy.

Episode #196 Storyboard by Chika Ichimaru and Episode Direction by Sato :

Episodes #205 - #206 Storyboards by Sato and Episode Direction by Mashu Ito and Minoru Tozawa :

His love for the split-screen compositions :

Sato experimented a lot in his early days, and many of his directional ideas were "abandoned" in favor of something more simpler. Various motifs used to emphasize expression. The use of bokeh in episode #42. Frequent allusions to the well-known direction of Osamu Dezaki. It should be remembered that, originally, Detective Conan was not intended to be a long-running series.

[tsukumomei]

OKOKOK in my mind in the “puppy love” fic, reader is moving to spain

and then three years later sae comes to spain cause he gets scouted by re al you know the story

and so they meet again ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 (they have cute “dates” if you will, where she shows him around spain and what not 🤭)

now idk if you’re taking requests at the moment, or even want to write a part two for this, but i (and many others i feel like) would LOVE to see this!

no force though, if you do wish to write it take your time, and if you don’t it’s all fine too!

much love, xoxo 💋

a/n: This is actually insane because this is EXACTLY what I had in mind for a bonus part! I was originally going to end it when they saw each other again, but I took your request and wrote about their dates too. Enjoy! Mwah! I wouldn’t consider this a part 2, though—if I ever write one, it’ll still be from Rin’s POV. But I’m open to writing more bonus parts for this fic, so feel free to send me an ask! ^^

—RIGHT WHERE WE LEFT OFF

ft. Sae Itoshi

a bonus chapter for Puppy Love

synposis: Sae moves to Madrid after getting scouted by Real, but he has two problems. One—he hates it. The city feels unfamiliar, foreign, nothing like home. Two—he’s determined to forget about you. But the harder he tries, the more his own mind betrays him—because no matter what he does, everything leads him right back to you. wc: 3.1 k

The shuffling in Sae’s carry-on grows more frantic as he impatiently searches for that notebook from you.

It was the first thing he stuffed into his bag.

Flipping through the worn pages, his eyes finally land on the last one—covered in messy scribbles, but the only thing that stands out is a single line written in red ink at the bottom:

"Wait for me. ❤️ Y/N"

Sae presses his thumb against the words, as if touching them could somehow bring back the past. Could somehow make you feel real again.

He leans back into his seat, staring out at the endless stretch of sky beyond the plane window, but it’s not Madrid he’s thinking about. It’s you.

This morning, back at the house, he’d been kicking a soccer ball around the backyard, the steady thud of leather against concrete filling the quiet air. Rin was there too, watching him with a knowing look before finally speaking up.

"Nii-chan, it was just puppy love."

Maybe it was. Maybe Rin was right.

But if it was just puppy love, why is it still lingering?

Why did he still worry—that if you ever came back, that you’d be mad at him for not being there?

It’s been three years.

The chances of seeing you again were close to impossible.

—

Sae steps into his new apartment in Madrid, rolling his suitcase inside as his manager gestures around the space.

“This is your living room,” his manager begins, flipping on the lights. The apartment is modern, minimalistic—exactly what Sae expected. “Kitchen’s over there. Fridge is stocked for now, but you’ll need to do your own groceries after this week.”

Sae nods, setting his bag neatly by the couch.

“The bedroom’s down the hall,” the manager continues, walking ahead. “Bathroom’s connected. There’s a desk if you need to study or review game footage. Wi-Fi’s already set up.”

Sae peeks into the bedroom—plain, clean, nothing extravagant. Just a bed, a nightstand, and a small window overlooking the street below.

“You’re across the hall?” Sae asks as they return to the main area.

“Yeah,” his manager confirms, crossing. “If you need anything, just knock.”

Sae scoffs lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

His manager gives him a once-over, then exhales. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to settle in.”

With that, the manager steps out, leaving Sae alone.

The moment the door clicks shut, Sae gets to work. He unzips his luggage, methodically putting his clothes away, setting his toiletries in the bathroom, and neatly stacking his training gear by the closet. He takes mental notes of what he needs—more food, basic supplies, maybe an extra pillow.

Once everything is in place, he pulls out his phone and dials home.

His mother picks up almost immediately. “Sae?”

“I just landed and got to the apartment,” he informs her, his voice steady. “Everything’s fine.”

“That’s good,” she says warmly. “Have you eaten?”

“I will soon.”

“Don’t just eat whatever’s fastest. Make sure you’re getting proper meals.”

Sae hums in acknowledgment before adding, “Tell Dad I made it safely. And Rin, too.”

“Of course,” his mother says. There’s a brief pause, then a softer, knowing tone in her voice. “It feels real now, doesn’t it?”

Sae leans against the counter, staring at the empty space around him. His new home. His new life.

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

After a few more exchanges, he hangs up, setting his phone aside.

His eyes drift to his carry-on, to the one thing he hadn’t put away yet.

The notebook.

The worn cover, the slightly frayed edges—he traces them with his fingers before flipping it open once again. The pages are filled with your handwriting, messy yet familiar, scrawled with thoughts and doodles from years ago.

It’s ridiculous, really. He hasn’t seen you in three years. He has no idea where you are, if you’re still in the same country, if you even remember him the way he remembers you.

But memories flood in anyway. The afternoons spent at the park, your determined expression when you first crashed his soccer game, the way you always talked too much but somehow, he never minded. The way you scribbled on his arm once with the same red ink you used to write—

"Wait for me. ❤️ y/n"

Sae exhales sharply and shuts the notebook.

Maybe it really was just puppy love.

He stands, grabs his wallet, and heads for the door.

He needs to get out, get familiar with the city. He’s going to live here now, after all.

—

The city is foreign, unfamiliar—Sae hates it.

He was never one for traveling. The only reason he’s here is to play soccer at an international level, but outside of that, it feels suffocating in a way he never expected.

The streets are too loud yet too quiet at the same time. He doesn’t understand the conversations happening around him, the unfamiliar syllables blending into meaningless noise. The people pass by in a blur, all strangers, none of them acknowledging him beyond quick  glances.

It’s not like he’s stupid enough to get scammed—he’s careful, always aware of his surroundings. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t belong here. It doesn’t change how frustrating it is to have all this free time and nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

The city is alive, buzzing with movement, but it only makes the loneliness feel sharper.

—

Today marks his second week in Madrid.

Sae realizes just how useless he is when it comes to directions.

The sun is already beginning to set, casting a golden glow over Madrid, and he has no idea where he is.

The street signs might as well be in a foreign language—which, technically, they are. He squints at them, but the unfamiliar words blur together, useless in helping him find his way. And as for Spanish? Well, he knows about as much as a toddler forming his first sentence.

Great.

Of course, it’s at a time like this that he remembers you.

Because you were always the human GPS between the two of you, navigating streets like you had a built-in map inside your head. You always knew the right turns to take, the fastest shortcuts.

And right now? Right now, he is the one most in need of that skill.

Rin thinks Sae is perfect, so he probably doesn’t even know about this little flaw of his.

Sae scoffs to himself, shaking his head. It’s ridiculous that, even now, when he’s supposed to be moving on, he still finds himself thinking about you.

He exhales sharply, pushing the thoughts away.

Enough.

With renewed determination, Sae steps onto the crosswalk, telling himself—again—that it’s time to leave his childhood love in the past.

But by the time he reaches the middle, doubt creeps in—just enough for him to hesitate, just enough for him to misstep.

And just enough for him to accidentally bump into someone walking from the opposite direction.

"Perdón," the girl mutters, barely sparing him a glance—until she does.

She stops short, eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh."

Sae blinks.

"It’s you."

For a moment, the city fades into the background. The people rushing past, the hum of conversation, the faint honking of impatient drivers—it all disappears.

You look different now. Your hair is dyed, a little wavier than before. A stylish bag hangs off your shoulder, outfit effortlessly put together in a way that makes you stand out even in the middle of Madrid.

But to him, you’re still the same stubborn girl who once barged into his soccer game with Rin, the one who never asked for permission—just demanded a pass like you belonged there. The one who never looked at him like everyone else did.

Your eyes are the same. That’s what catches him the most. Time has changed a lot of things, but not that. They still hold the same warmth, the same quiet confidence.

Sae wonders if he looks different to you, too. If you notice the way his shoulders have grown broader, the way the exhaustion lingers under his eyes. If you can tell that beneath all the fame and titles, there’s still a part of him that never stopped waiting for you.

Neither of you speak. Just stood there, caught in something neither of you were prepared for.

Sae exhales, then—without thinking—extends his hand toward you

But before you can take it, a sharp whistle cuts through the air.

"¡Oye! Move it!"

The traffic officer’s whistle cuts through the air, snapping both of you out of your daze.

Startled, you both turn at the same time, realizing the light has already turned green—and you’re still standing in the middle of the crosswalk.

Reality has always had a way of interrupting you two, hasn’t it?

Sae clenches his jaw, frustration flickering across his face. Meanwhile, you weren’t handling it any better—because instead of just walking away like a normal person, you were flipping off the traffic officer and hurling a wooden spoon at him.

Where did you even get that? Sae has no idea. And honestly, he’s not sure he wants to.

But then he feels you grab his arm, yanking him across the street as you break into a run—both of you fleeing from the traffic officer, who Sae can only assume is cursing you out in rapid Spanish.

And just like that, his expression softens.

—

“Whew, that was close,” you say between heavy breaths, still catching your breath from all that running.

Sae glances at you, unimpressed. “Maybe if you didn’t throw a spoon at him, we wouldn’t have to run.”

You roll your eyes, waving him off. “Oh, please. That guy already hates me. This isn’t even the first time, you know.”

Sae raises a brow. “Not surprised.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “Hey! Rude.”

He exhales sharply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “What did you do to piss him off before?”

You smirk, tilting your head playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Sae gives you a look—unamused but intrigued nonetheless. “I would, actually.”

You grin, pretending to think. “Let’s just say… it involved a churro cart, an old lady, and a very, very unfortunate slip on my part.”

Sae stares at you for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re a menace.” 

You flash him a cheeky smile. “And yet, here you are, running away from traffic officers with me.”

He huffs but doesn’t argue. Because, somehow, you’re right—because he’s relieved that he can finally talk to someone other than his manager, and just as relieved to see that you haven’t changed at all.

Isn’t it ironic? The very day he decides to finally let go of your memory, fate throws you right back into his life.

But something nags at him. You haven’t asked about Madrid, about why he’s here. It’s like you’re not surprised at all, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to bump into him on the street.

Sae narrows his eyes slightly before speaking. “Hey, you’re not gonna ask?”

“Ask what?” you blink at him, confused. Then, as if remembering something, your face lights up. “Oh! Where are my manners?”

Before he can react, you throw yourself at him, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

Sae stiffens, caught completely off guard. But before he can say anything, you sigh dramatically against his shoulder. “I missed you so much! I can’t believe you followed me all the way to Spain. Oh, you really do love me.”

He clicks his tongue, exasperated. You’re being an idiot again—definitely pushing it.

But he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t deny it.

Instead, after a brief hesitation, he exhales and wraps a single arm around you, listening as you ramble on like no time has passed at all.

—

“Maybe I should put a tracker on you.” you tease, walking a step ahead of Sae as you lead him through the narrow streets of Madrid.  

He exhales sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I would’ve figured it out eventually.”  

You throw him a look over your shoulder. “Yeah, sure. After getting lost for another three hours.”  

Sae doesn’t bother denying it. Instead, he follows as you turn into an alleyway, stopping in front of a small, unassuming café tucked between two buildings. 

“This place has the best tostada con tomate in the city,” you say, nodding toward the café. 

“The old man inside—Rafa—he always yells at me for ordering too much, but then he sneaks me an extra pastry for free.”  

As if on cue, the door swings open, and an elderly man steps out. His eyes land on you, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “¡Ah, mira quién es! La niña que me arruina el negocio.” (Ah, look who it is! The girl who’s ruining my business.)  

You laugh, stepping forward to greet him. “Don’t lie, Rafa. You love me.”  

Rafa scoffs but affectionately ruffles your hair before turning to Sae, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. “¿Y este quién es?” (And who’s this?)  

“My amigo,” you reply smoothly, though there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. “He just moved here, so I’m showing him around.”  

Rafa studies Sae for a moment before nodding in approval. “Bien. Come inside. I’ll make sure he eats something decent.”  

Sae barely has time to protest before you’re dragging him through the door, the scent of warm spices and grilled meat immediately filling the air. The restaurant is small, a little tucked away from the busier streets, but it’s lively, filled with laughter and the soft hum of conversation.

When the food arrives, you dig in without hesitation, taking a bite and immediately letting out a dramatic sigh. “Oh my god,” you moan, clutching your chest like you’ve just ascended to heaven. “This is it. This is what happiness tastes like.”

Sae raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You sound ridiculous.”

“You sound jealous,” you retort, shoveling another bite into your mouth. “You haven’t even touched your food.”

Sae watches you for a moment. The way you eat so shamelessly, without a care for how you look, is something he vaguely remembers from when you were kids. Some things never change.

“I’m just letting you be the poison tester,” he mutters, finally picking up his fork.

You roll your eyes. “Please. If Rafa wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it years ago.”

Rafa, passing by, snorts. “She’s not wrong.”

Sae sighs, finally taking a bite. He won’t admit it, but it’s good. Really good.

Just as you’re finishing your plate, you glance at your phone and stand abruptly. “Be right back. Don’t go running off without me.”

Sae only scoffs in response, watching as you disappear towards the bathroom. The moment you’re gone, Rafa leans against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to Sae with a knowing smirk.

“She talked about you before, you know,” Rafa says casually.

Sae tenses slightly. “Did she?”

Rafa nods, chuckling. “Not by name. Just 'some guy I used to know who’s hopeless with anything besides soccer and even worse with emotions.'”

Sae huffs. “Sounds like something she'd say.”

Rafa shrugs. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you better get used to her dragging you everywhere. She’s got a habit of making lost people feel at home.”

Sae doesn’t respond, just looks at him, expression unreadable. Rafa only chuckles, shaking his head as he wipes down the counter.

A moment later, you return, eyes narrowing the second you spot them. “What’s this?” you ask suspiciously, sliding back into your seat. “What were you two talking about?”

Rafa smirks, tilting his head towards Sae. “Oh, nothing much. Just sharing stories.”

You gasp dramatically, pointing a finger at Sae. “You weren’t talking bad about me, were you?”

Sae finally speaks, deadpan. “Wouldn’t need to. You embarrass yourself enough.”

You scoff, reaching over to steal a piece of food from his plate. “Unbelievable. I leave for one second, and you two become best friends conspiring against me.”

Rafa laughs. “Don’t worry, querida. He’s not that easy to befriend.”

You nod sagely. “That’s true. I had to force him to like me.”

Sae rolls his eyes. That was true for most people, but definitely not for you.

He liked you from the get-go, like there was a gravitational pull towards you that he just couldn't escape from.

The day continues like that.  

You don’t take him to the usual tourist spots—the grand plazas or famous museums. Instead, you show him the Madrid you love.  

A tucked-away bookstore where the owner lets you sit and read for hours without buying anything. A tiny family-run tapas bar where the food is cheap but incredible, and the owners greet you like family. A rooftop spot where you swear the sunset looks better than anywhere else in the city.  

Everywhere you go, you introduce him like he belongs there.  

By the time the sky turns golden, Sae realizes something.  

This isn’t just a city to you. It’s a home.  

And for the first time since moving here, Madrid doesn’t feel so unfamiliar to him anymore.  

Maybe it’s because he’s finally seeing it through your eyes.

And maybe that so-called puppy love Rin kept telling him about is beginning to grow into something more.

a/n: "Puppy Love" is the one and only beloved Sae Itoshi fanfic franchise that will remain untouched by despair. I wholeheartedly believe that at some point during his four years in Spain, Sae had his dreams crushed and utterly heartbroken. But in this au? nah. no angst, no career-crushing disappointments, Just endless, tooth-rotting fluff and relationship bliss. The kind of soft, sweet moments Sae would never admit he enjoys. Because for once, he deserves to have something go perfectly right.

[miroh4]

MANOSOUTA WEEK : DAY 4 : SWAP AU (A LOT of text + collection of illustrations)

so. it has come to this. THE day. this au has been on my mind for such a long time, and i'm finally getting to share! i'll be the first to admit that some things have not been thought of, so feel free to make em up!

TW FOR COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF BLOOD,

enjoy!

I call it "Turnabout Sacrifice"

this an overhaul of the story (made with the help of FEYA!!! THE SMARTEST PERSON EVER!!)

First thing to change: Simeon ran away from the orphanage the day of presidents assassination, and Bronco is left to distract and take the fall, unbeknownst to Simeon. Simeon was the one to send the drawing and did not look back, staying with Kanis, but the drawing was pinned on Knight, and all three were after him, not Saint.

Another change is that Simeon is no longer the one to remember the car incident, Bronco is. and he resolves to take revenge FOR Simeon and himself, no matter the cost. after enduring whatever-the-fuck, everything goes as we know. Knight becomes the presidents second-in-command (while knowing his secret and in hopes of getting to kill him) and Simeon joins the circus while keeping in contact with Kanis. because he had not endured what he did at Fifi, Winner and Wangs hands, the threat of the past being relatively out of his mind AND not remembering what happened 18 years ago makes Simeons ditzy sweetheart persona obsolete. so he becomes a bitch

Knight, on the other hand, needs to be close to Wang and for him to find a confidant in him, to trust him with his life and not have a single suspicion about him. so, he adopts the persona of a soft lovable guy who is a little skittish and shy despite being as big as a fridge.

Sometime in the future, Knight and Saint reconnect (through Bronco basically stalking him) and start developing a relationship together. Now onto the game.

TURNABOUT TRIGGER

First change to be had: Knight does not kill Rooke. Instead, it's Wang who does out of fear of being named a fraud, and naturally tries to pin it on the stupid little second-in-command, who would do anything for him, right after commencing the fake assassination.

Next change is that Simeon wasnt the one to think of the plan NOR to hire Shelly (idk who feel free to get creative). Still, the real assassination attempt commences, resulting in an injured Bronco, and the fake one begins.

Rooke is killed by Wang, and an "attempt" on Wangs life gets made. Miles Edgeworth is called.

Bronco presents as a sweet and helpful individual, a bit bashful and nervous, but otherwise competent and, strangely enough, averse to violence.

After some time, Miles starts suspecting Bronco, but then learns that Bronco only assisted Wang because he wanted to help Zeng Fa and didn't know his colleague would die! THEN! Miles deduces that it was Wang. But what can you do against a president?

Knight is falsely arrested on the murder of Rooke as well as an attempted assassination.

THE IMPRISONED TURNABOUT

Next day, we learn of something horrible that had happened in prison.

Blood, a lot of it - belonging to Knight, with him nowhere to be seen, and a ring that supposedly belonged to him. While the body can't be found - the suspicions fall on his best friend, who'd visited him yesterday. So, Miles and Kay go investigate.

And they meet a bratty, arrogant rising star of the animal training world and Big Berry Circus - Simeon Saint! (slight spoiler to aa4 on the pic (line courtesy of Feya!))

He is cocky and rude, bragging about how he's "free do do anything" and immediately takes dislike towards Miles, yet has no choice but to accept his help. While investigating, Kay and Miles learn of what was inside the case, and how it got there, as well as Simeon travelling to Knight without permission and with a huge cage to boot. After determining that a chisel in the case might be Knights work (which it is in this AU - a LaGuarde lure), they turn to accuse him of trying to aid a criminal in escaping prison.

And he snaps.

Now Miles fully trusts Simeon. He tells him how he tried to get Knight to climb into a cage, "But Bronco was always the kind of guy to follow the law to the T. Nevermind the law being wrong..."

This is an inverse of that one scene from the finale of the game. The idea was proposed by @diableriezer and it near made me weep.

After more investigating we finally get on Fifi's trail, and get her to confess.

Knight's body is missing because he ran away from her wrath, and had now gone missing, although she claims that he couldn't have survived the attack.

In reality, he did. (cw blood)

(contains lyrics from "Evil" by Electroforez, a song about being obsessed and in love)

Kanis lied about not knowing him, and secretly patched him up with Helmut's help and helped him escape, so he'd finally take revenge.

Inherited and Forgotten turnabouts play out, second probably with a lot of changes which I didn't think of, but in the end Winner gets arrested, so does Gusto. Knight hates Gusto with his whole heart, and wishes to rip it out for letting him and Saint suffer like that. He remembers his father, and he only wishes he got to kill him first. Now, without further ado...

TURNABOUT FOR AGES

TURNABOUT SACRIFICE

We get evidence of Fifi, Blaise and Wang working together, and decide to finally confront the latter, only to learn that he went missing.

We find his corpse and realize that Simeon also hasn't been seen in a while. Learn from Kanis that his pup has gone to seek revenge, determine that it's Simeon the same way.

Weirdly enough, we do NOT find Saint at the circus Regina says that he left in a hurry. We determine that he'd gone to retrieve a piece of evidence from the crime scene, which in this case is the presidential plane because I thought it'd be rad.

There we find Knights "corpse", but it turns out he is asleep and Simeon is helping care for his wounds here, since he thought it'd be safe. They ask Knight if Simeon has harmed him, he says no.

We learn that Simeon has been notified of Knights location by Kanis.

When Miles attempts arrest, Knight quickly takes Simeon hostage, revealing himself to be Wangs killer.

Knight reveals his motivations, his story. Reveals that he'd been abandoned by everyone, even by his darling friend, and nobody was there for him. Despite that, he still forgives Simeon, because he is all he has, and all he wishes for is to finally stay together - leave and never look back on the horrors they've endured.

Unfortunately, it does not work out.

Saint is adamant that he wants to stay together, and he is truly grateful for the revenge, but that he didn't trust Saint with that, so how could he trust him?

After talking through things, and various threats from Knight, he concedes. But not in a way one would expect.

Knowing that he won't take being apart easily, Knight tells Simeon that there is only one road to go from there.

And pulls the trigger.

[majaloveschris]

Surprise, surprise. He’s in the Gold Coast 2 days before Valentines Day.

I’m guessing they need new content?

Yeah, he was definitely there to visit Alba; now the question is when. It could be recent, like taken today or yesterday, but she's been there for a while, so who knows? Maybe it's not that recent, but this doesn't really matter, does it? He was there, and who knows what they have up their sleeves for Valentine's Day.

What I have to say is that I'm getting incredibly tired of these games they are playing, because yes, they are doing that. No matter whether this is real or not, they are playing games, and they've been doing that since the beginning. The follows, the likes, the fake pap walks, those Instagram stories, the whole "we are so private but not really" thing. I still don't think this is real, but to be honest, I'm starting to get to the point where I don't even care anymore. I've been here for almost 3 years now, and the same thing happens always, and I do think they do some stuff on purpose to feed both narratives, not everything, but some. If I didn't care about how this whole thing will actually end and if this will turn out to be real or not, I would've left already. And Chris has meant a lot to me for such a long time, but I don't know anymore...I don't see the person I loved and adored when I look at him anymore. And it's not because he is married; I wouldn't care about that. It's about Alba's and her friends' values and personalities and these games.

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo 2025: Just A Story - Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kishie8 @darqchilddaydreamz @privatetruths @ilariyalavorowrites

Companion piece to:

Unburied - You're forced to make a choice when one of your secrets becomes unburied.

Kings & Queens - You and Chibs marry under terrible circumstances.

You’re supposed to meet for lunch the morning after you marry Filip.  There’s a bakery  on Main Street that you love, one with French pastries he always gets in his beard. You’d agreed to meet him there when you left this morning, a last meal before you turned yourself into David Hale for the murder of your ex-husband.

It takes him an hour to realise you’re not coming. He sits at one of the tables, nursing a coffee, telling himself you’re just running a little late but with every passing moment his chest tightens because he’s knows what you’ve done and he knows why you did it.

Seeing you in handcuffs, it will kill him, as sure as a knife wound to the gut would. What you don’t understand is that he’s been bleeding out since you made the decision, his life force pouring out onto the concrete beneath his feet.

This final act, it’s the equivalent of carving his heart out of his chest and stamping on it with the heel of your stiletto.

He already knows it’s too late by the time he gets to the station, your car is parked in the lot, your signature on the visitor’s list. When he’s shown into David Hale’s office he doesn’t expect to see you sitting there in his visitor’s chair, not a pair of cuffs in sight.

“I was just explaining to Evelyn that there was a break in at the morgue this morning.” Hale informs him, his fingertips rubbing lightly at his right temple. It’s a sign of stress, one he knows well from all the times the deputy has tried to pin something on the Sons. “A couple of corpses have gone missing.”

It’s news to him because if he could have disappeared the body of your ex-husband before now he certainly would have. It would have avoided all of this devastation the two of you had been going through.

“Oh aye, they get up and walk out did they?” Filip responds as he takes up residence in the seat alongside you. His hand reaches for yours, fingers entwining and you squeeze lightly because there’s hope right now, hope that you might not end up in a jail cell.

“What it means is if someone was to make a confession regarding the killing of one of those men that there would be no evidence to support the claim.” Hale says pointedly, his gaze focusing on you before he sighs, rubbing his palm across his jaw. “I don’t want to lock you up Evelyn, I don’t want to destroy your reputation over some asshole that almost killed you, not unless I have to.”

And there it is out in the open.

David Hale knows you murdered your ex-husband and he doesn’t want to do a damn thing about it, not unless his hand is forced. Until now Filip couldn’t understood the relationship between the two of you. Police officers and defence attorneys, their natural enemies but there’s always been a mutual respect between the two of you, a friendliness he’s never been able to fathom.

“David used to be the one who came to the house when...” You trail off then because you don’t like talking about the beatings, not even after all this time. “He was the one that helped me with the restraining order when I did decide to leave him. We’ve been working together for a long time now helping victims of abuse.”

There are certain facets of your job that you don’t tell Filip about. There are aspects of his that are the same way. It’s an unspoken agreement the two of you have. The work you’ve been doing with Hale, it’s low key, off the radar. Shit that the both of you could get into trouble for if it ever came to light.

“The story I just told you…” You begin, your attention turning back to Hale and deputy shakes his head indicating he doesn’t want you to talk anymore.

“Unless those bodies turn up a story is just a story.” He says before tipping his head towards the door. “Now do me a favour and get out of here, I have work to do.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[stylespresleyhearted]

any mota fanfic recs?

OH MY GOODNESS DO I EVER 🗣️🗣️

the *amount* of talent found in the mota fandom alone is insane, it blows my mind. i read these pieces and my mind can’t comprehend that someone wrote something so beautifully heartwarming or heart-wrenching and is allowing me to read it for FREE on the internet. it belongs in an archive of beautiful literature. (I think i meant a library …)

of course i got to start w marina (mommy 🫶🏻) : @precious-little-scoundrel

dear john - of course i gotta be biased it was part of my yelling and the beginning of john egan stealing my heart. john writes a letter to lana tierney, a famous actress, who writes back and slips in a gift to raise the major’s spirits 😉 (also coming up with the acornym A.C.O.R.N was so fun)

she’s also got a phenomenon currently ongoing Those Who Can - I support all these characters and Marina beautifully juggles so many sensitive, delicate topics and does so with the respect and understanding needed to do so.

But in all seriousness I followed Marina from the Elvis fandom (where we were also in cahoots) to MOTA fandom & she’s so lovely, supportive, protective, and in many ways has become a rock for me. what i don’t see in myself she manages to bring out and encourages me to keep trying my hand at writing so i’m grateful for her always ♥️

@joeyalohadream her cooler-verse fics oh my gooodnesssss i am NOT exaggerating when i say i have reread like at least 13 times. i love love love to read them late at night or early in the morning it’s comfort reading to me and the love language displayed between john and gale in her stories resonates deeply with my love language so i think it helps me further invest into the story. so heartbreakingly good. it truly only hurts because they love each other SO MUCH.

- at this point i’d be lying if i said i haven’t read everything she has written though. let your heart be light currently occupies my time, thoughts, and soul. there’s one portion in it’s different with you and me that has made me reread a handful of times: She eyes him in his uniform and he sees the way the night could go. The way it should go.

But all it makes him think about is Gale.

Gale, who doesn’t watch the girls at the pub, but who watches John.

Gale, who tenses up when the guys crowd him, but melts under John’s arm like it’s the most comfortable place in the world for him to be.

Gale, who went a whole day and a half giving him the cold shoulder after John came back to their room painted in red lipstick stains and smelling of cheap perfume.

So, he chats and he smiles, but he doesn’t flirt and he doesn’t touch. Because if there’s even a possibility in this world that there’s a chance Gale is like him and that he likes him, he’s not blowing it for anymore nights of chasing a fleeting good feeling.

@johnslittlespoon i stumbled upon their tough and sweet universe and ohhhhh myyyy looordddd. Yes pls. Age gap. Younger bucky. Biker gale. Biker Gale who is so tender and gentle and caring and sensitive to all of Bucky’s emotions and helps stabalize him. Gale who asks him what he wants to do and how his day was and respects his boundaries and cares for him. brb gonna go cry. so soft for them. (Im secretly hoping benny and brady are gay in this fic but idk lmao) also marge is awesome but we all knew that. and paulina’s a bad ass every fic.

@swifty-fox geez louiseee where do i even start!!! i just reread wormwood today (retaliation has been promised 🥵) and one thing that continuously draws me in is the backstory they manage to create. obsessed w little beasts it’s burnout! John and pastor! Gale and i wish i had the words to talk about how amazing it is. we were left on such a cliff hanger and they’ve been brought into each other’s family now (kinda) and gale said this line: only me? that i haven’t been able to stop thinking about. i can’t believe (and also can’t wait) that these two are gonna date and be a couple and hold hands and kiss and cuddle and - 🤯 most recently there is cicada season and i don’t want to go into that one i just want everyone to read it. their way of writing human complexity, sin, acceptance, grief, anger, insecurity — everything is so raw and cutting and beautiful. i wanna poke swifty’s brain bc they are so smart and knowledgeable but alas i want to remain unblocked.

I feel like I’m missing SO MANYYYYY GAHHH there are so many one shots i’m sure i’ll probably reblog to add 😭😭

[flovoid]

whats heartbreaking to me about their lore/arc in flawtown is that they are two different teenagers with different past and beliefs but happened to click together and become BFFs who also believe that they can do anything together.

☆ if flawtown was an actual fleshed-out story with consistent episodes you would see that:

in the beginning of the series, Charl#¿es Carl & Killian are supposed to be teens who plans to run away from this town (flawtown)

we would witness that Killian-him being the grumpy teen, hated both his parents his whole life for poor parenting-was the one who brought the ‘runaway teens’ idea, and Carl-him being the empathetic teen who is controled by his family, yet being neglected by them (the black sheep)-at that time was hesitant over the idea.

yet throughout the series these two teen would have some character development, both of them influence each other without knowing, dealing with their emotions & behaviors.

Carl would go face his family, exposing his father-the mayor-wrongs, would help those people who got mislead by his mother’s greed, all that to make flawtown better. Killian would become less angry and would find himself making more time being around his other half-siblings, learn to forgive his alcoholic-father for trying, regardless of his mother intentions; he also would learn to forgive her too.

in the end of their arc, the one who would want to leave flawtown would be Carl, him believing he has nothing left of him in this town anymore. Freedom was awaiting for Carl, he chose to hit the roads to find his ultimate destination. On the contrary, Killian surprisingly would want to stay, he believes he finally have a purpose to stay in this town, with his family, with his new hobby that he found himself enjoying which is handiness; he finds joy in making other people smile over fixing stuff.

so… we would find the teens separating… they never thought that their little bond was too short to be cut off, for them it’s only a year and eleven days they been friends. Before departing, they both promised each other that whenever the clock ticks to eleven, they would call for the other name.

will you be around?♬

[pininghermit]

On Your Toes

Request: Hi (* ´ ▽ ` *) I hope you are still accepting spin the wheel requests. I got , fan and idol as a prompt. If you aren't too busy at the moment, can you please write a story for Adrian Tepes x Idol!reader? Like he pretends to dislike her music but finds her voice soothing, secretly admires her and... loves her. 🫣🙃

AN: Thanks for requesting! This is slightly different from you request but I seriously had to write it to escape my writer's block (partially due to Love and Deep Space wrecking my life) Also ik Ballerino is Italian but can we roll with this please because danseurs sounds mad pretentious.

Genre: Idol/Ballet au

Pairing(s): Alucard x GN Reader

Summary: You were the rat when Adrian became Hans-Peter in The Nutcracker. The infamous mirror on the wall when he played Prince Charming. Yorick to his brooding Hamlet. The clapping monkey to his moping Phantom of the Opera.

"I'm sure 14-year-olds love your so called 'art'," Adrian says, rolling his eyes with a huff as he leans back against the windowsill. "Is it worth leaving years of hard work?"

Crouching in front of him, you rest his feet on your thigh and begin unlacing the bloodied pointe shoe, which clings stubbornly to the oozing callouses on his skin.

"You forgot your ointment again?" You sigh, already reaching for the travel-sized tube you always carry. That habit has never left you, from the past to now.

With gentle hands, you apply the cool gel to his raw soles. Above you, Adrian sucks in a sharp breath, his toes curling at the sudden sting of relief.

"I missed you." You stand up after wrapping his feet in bandages and pulling on mismatched warm socks, socks he never had a complete pair of. "And I worry too. Now that I’m here, I know I have a good reason to fret." Your gaze lingers on his sunken cheeks.

"I do not require your pity!" Adrian huffs, turning his back to you. "Go back to your glamorous life. Aren't you above ballet now? Too good for it?" His words cut deep into your heart.

It has been three years. Three long years since he refused to answer your calls, moved out of the home you once shared, leaving behind nothing but a lonely ring.

He, who is in the lyrics of your every song, the muse for your art, he has left you. Or perhaps, you pushed him away.

Eighteen years ago, at the age of seven, you first met him. In that ballet class, when you both let go of your weary parents’ hands and walked into a room where you became the best of friends.

It was no less than a wedding pyre, where your blood, sweat, and endless hours bound you both into something more.

Adrian loved ballet. His feet never faltered, his arms refused to tremble, even in the swiftest lifts. He was most beautiful in his dance.

You, on the other hand, could never find solid ground beneath your feet while lost in staring at him.

To some extent, you enjoyed the sway of music that came in waves. You relished the closeness it offered, the bond it allowed between you and your friend.

Music, you loved. Just as Adrian loved ballet. Music taught you how to love.

From the scrawled notes on your notebook covers to your cheap GarageBand subscription, you loved losing yourself to the sounds of the world around you.

But all that had to wait, tucked away in the tiny pockets of your time, the ones spared beyond ballet.

You loved music, but you loved him more.

For years, you did.

You were the rat when Adrian became Hans-Peter in The Nutcracker. The infamous mirror on the wall when he played Prince Charming. Yorick to his brooding Hamlet. The clapping monkey to his moping Phantom of the Opera.

You grasped at pieces, but all that remained were shadows. Ballet was never your calling.

It was the old SoundCloud rap that thrust you into the shoes that were made for you.

From a small re-release, to album deals, to company contracts, your world pulled you closer.

And no matter how hard you tried to cling to the ballet studio, your heart reached for the keys of your keyboard.

Productions rarely ever kept you, and with a distracted mind, roles slipped through your fingers.

Weeks later, Adrian found himself alone on the stage. Broken from the reverie of his practice, he searched for you. Backstage. The costume room. The tech booth.

You were gone.

And then he saw the script.

Your name wasn’t there.

You had left him. Alone. Lost in his dance.

And he hadn’t even noticed.

Was he to blame? Had he kept you from your passion?

Wrath. Hurt. Guilt. Heartbreak. They flooded him all at once.

That day, for the first time, his feet ached. Not from exhaustion, not from relentless training, but from something deeper. Never before had he cared about pain over his dance. Yet, in that moment, it hurt more than anything.

So he left. Just as you had. Without a word, he walked away—from your home, your ring, everything.

He abandoned you.

He refused to love this version of you. He refused to be the one left behind. So he left first.

This was your penance, and his.

Never again did his feet tire. Never again did his smile falter. He poured himself into his craft, drowning in movement, in rhythm, in perfection.

But who could resist a siren’s call?

Even as he spun through daring choreography, even as he lost himself in dance, his ears could not escape your music.

That brash, loud, jarring music, the very thing that had torn you apart.

Songs that were all about him. Words that glided with melody like his body through motion.

He knew how much it meant to you.

Music, to you, was what ballet had become to him.

And much to his dismay, he understood that far too well.

After all these years, after countless lovers taken just to spite you, he had not expected this.

For the idol so many cherished to kneel beside him as you once did. For you to be so gentle, so familiar in your every action.

For you to still carry the ointment, the one none of the dancers could afford. You had bought it for him back then, and you hadn’t stopped now.

He had not expected you to ignore all the hurt and continue loving him.

It was unfair. Unbearably cruel. To be so good to him.

His heart protested, curling in on itself at the sight.

He let you slip warm socks over his feet, trying his damnedest to hold back the tears.

But you were his friend. His adorable rat. His beloved.

How could he have wronged you? When he knew the answer too well.

The thing about love is that it cannot be held back. It cannot be unfelt.

Like a stubborn stream of water, it finds a way, seeping through the cracks of even the hardest heart.

And after all these years, it had never ceased to exist.

[guidaozongshi]

Why Sasuke-Naruto and not Sasuke-Sakura?

A great deal has been written about the latter's relationship—or the lack thereof—being atrocious due to its glaringly one-sided nature. However, in this post, I tell why I was personally drawn to the former when I first read Naruto and why the latter felt so out of sync with my perspective.

I discovered Naruto—and by extension, sasunaru—during my formative years in late adolescence, and it left a lasting impression on me. Before Naruto, my exposure to anime was quite limited, restricted to shows that aired on TV in my country, such as Pokémon, Dragon Ball, and Beyblade. However, when I gained access to the internet, albeit with limited capacity but unrestricted freedom, I began exploring more anime. I started with Fullmetal Alchemist, as it was highly recommended and relatively short, and then moved on to Shoujo like Kaichou wa Maid-sama, Fruits Basket and Kamisama Kiss. Despite this, I had never properly delved into a long-running shounen series. Naruto, being ubiquitous, naturally caught my attention.

Even before I started reading it I had come across jokes on Facebook anime meme pages about Naruto and Sasuke being gay, but I didn’t take them seriously. When I finally began reading Naruto (it was still ongoing at the time, nearing its final volumes), I was immediately drawn to the character dynamics and the emotionally driven story. What stood out to my romance-induced mind was how Sasuke seemed to fit the role of Naruto’s love interest from the very beginning. Despite Naruto's behaviour towards him, Sasuke defended him from Sakura, risked his own career to feed him when he was hungry. It seemed as if he held affection for him even before they officially became a team (little did I know that Kishimoto would later confirm this) . Unconsciously, I began shipping them, even though I had no prior understanding of shipping or exposure to media featuring same-sex couples.

And then came the Land of Waves arc—the rest, as they say, is history.

On the other hand, even though I was accustomed to heterosexual romances, Sasuke and Sakura’s relationship felt completely out of left field idea to me. This wasn’t just because of how one-sided it was, but also because Sasuke never went out of his way for Sakura in the same way he consistently did for Naruto.

A few months ago, I stumbled upon this on Reddit, and boy, did it almost hit the nail on the head on what I felt when I first started reading Naruto.

Although they incorrectly attribute Naruto and Sasuke's intense relationship to typical Shounen writing , nothing could be further from the truth.

I have heard people say that Sasuke-Sakura are a Shoujo couple stuck in a Shounen. I have to laugh.

I will reiterate what I said in this post

Sasu/Saku's popularity stems from the fact that the dynamic between Sasuke and Sakura at first resembles the typical setup of many shoujo romances from that era. They could have been that shoujo couple, but Kishimoto chose to subvert the tropes usually associated with such relationships.

An average girl, lacking any special talents and often clueless, relentlessly and one-sidedly pursues the school heartthrob. He has an icy demeanor and consistently rejects and insults her. However, due to her persistence and the time they spend together, he gradually begins to show affection for her and eventually loves her.

This would be the plot for many Shoujo mangas. Most famously, Itazura na Kiss, released in 1990, is a quintessential example of this, it has inspired many others and has had countless adaptations.

To quote one of the series' reviewer:

" This anime is about Kotoko, a ditzy, klutzy, dimwitted, high school girl, and her one-sided pursuit of her school's super-perfect heart throb, Irie. The central conflict revolves around Kotoko's struggle to get Irie's attention and to get past his incredibly cold personality. You see, Irie, in addition to being good at everything he does, is a complete douchebag and sees Kotoko as nothing more than an annoying flea. "

Sounds familiar?

However, in the case of classic Shoujo , the guy begins to start reciprocating her feelings. Her persistence is rewarded.

This is why many Sasu/Saku stans are unfazed by Sasuke's callous (justified) behaviour and Sakura's shallow feelings. Because they think Kishimoto is following the tropes straightforwardly.

Sasuke is not that male lead. Unlike characters who may be affected by the continuous efforts of the girl, Sasuke is deeply focused on his own life and personal challenges. He has little room to entertain Sakura's infatuation. As a result, he finds Sakura's persistent feelings and declarations completely unremarkable, as they do not resonate with him in the slightest. Sakura's sheltered upbringing and worldview fail to intrigue him, as he is seeking something much deeper and more meaningful than what she represents.

What ties all this together is that the manga explicitly states that Sakura can never hold the same importance to Sasuke as Naruto does.

" I can't get close to you " " Or exchange blows with you"

It’s quite clear who she is referencing: the person who can and does. Something Sasuke confirms verbally anyways.

Anyways, the romantic tropes lie between Sasuke and Naruto, not Sasuke and Sakura.

[patchwork-crow-writes]

(tags by @festbug)

First off, thank you for the tag ramble! lots of interesting additions to my original post, which I appreciate :) Regarding Alvin and his potential role as the Knight, one detail I always think about is how a lot of people think his name's an anagram for "Vilan" (as in, Villain), but I actually think it might instead be an anagram of "Anvil" - as in, the big block of iron you hit with a hammer - a hammer not unlike the one that Gerson was buried with - in order to shape metal into a more useful form, usually a blade - that could perhaps be used to make future dark worlds. I think that's an interesting detail if intentional, and indicates if nothing else that Alvin and more than likely Gerson's hammer are going to play a not-insignificant role in a future chapter.

Ralsei's surface-level similarities to Asriel is something I deliberately omitted from this post, and from a lot of my work actually. I'm very much in the camp of their supposed similarities being a big misdirect, and that Toby is relying on people familiar with Undertale to make those connections themselves. Thing is, once you start scratching the surface, you realise that Ralsei actually has much more in common with Kris than any incarnation of Asriel, which I think is pretty telling, especially when you consider the likelihood of Ralsei being related to Kris's old horned headband. You are correct, however, in saying that Ralsei does indeed struggle to distinguish himself from Asriel in the eyes of much of the fanbase. You do wonder how much of that is intentional, haha.

Deltarune's Asriel, on the other hand, is another really interesting facet of this idea of "legacy", in exactly the way you describe in your tags. He's lauded as the town's golden boy, universally popular, good at everything, and it's clear that image has persisted long after he's left for college. But as you say, it's not likely that he'll live up to that image by the time he does appear in the story proper. It's the classic "big fish in a little pond" problem - Asriel's an ace at everything compared to the relatively small population of Hometown, but at college, where he's probably going to come across hundreds of people just as smart and talented as he is? I would be surprised if disillusionment doesn't set in and he begins to see that his role as Hometown's star pupil is just that - a role that others put upon his shoulders. A role he was happy to play, but one that may no longer ring true for him.

And this was kind of what I was getting at with a character's legacy becoming a limiting factor in their growth. I would be interested to see how he relates to his former status back home, whether he'll embrace it again or grow resentful of it as people see what he was and what he represented at that time, rather than the person he is now, whoever that might be. And that's really interesting to me.

Thank you again for the thought-provoking tag rambles! It's always appreciated :D

Deltarune is about many things - about growing up, about fantasy and reality, about games and how we as players interact with them... but it's also about legacy.

Yes, in the big meta sense, it's about how this game is following up from Undertale, one of the most beloved and successful indie RPGs of all time. But also you have Kris learning to live outside of Asriel's shadow, you have Noelle struggling to cope with her sister's disappearance and her father's illness, Susie flailing around for a foothold in a new town with peers who don't like her very much, Berdly doing his utmost to live up to his "smart genius" label so he can actually be known for something.

You have Ralsei who finds himself at a crossroads between fulfilling a predetermined prophecy to save the world, and forging his own identity separate from his willingness to serve any "higher" authority. You have King, a ruler who became a tyrant so that his people could be free.

You also have Alphys, struggling to fill the rather large boots of her predecessor, Gerson Boom, who had a career in smithing, wrote a series of hit fantasy novels, and was an excellent teacher according to his son Alvin. (I wanna talk more about this, but it's going in its own post because of reasons)

A character's legacy, the thing that they will be known for, the thing they struggle to actualise so that people will like and accept them, can be a powerful driving-force, giving them agency to fulfill their ambitions. But that same legacy can also be a millstone, forcing them onto a narrowly-defined path through life, burdening them with the crushing weight of others' expectations, and trapping them into a version of themselves they may not wish to be.

Legacy can be difficult to escape from, perhaps even impossible in some cases. It can feel like there's no other choice but to press onward, to be what others want or expect from you, to do what you are told, to try and live up to a golden predecessor who could do no wrong in the eyes of their admirers. It can feel like what you want, what you choose for yourself, doesn't actually matter, because in many ways that choice has already been made for you. And to rebel against that choice risks disappointing the people closest to you, risks losing your reputation, risks the comfort of a predictable path forward, and in extreme cases risks losing your own sense of identity.

I think this theme is going to continue to develop throughout Deltarune, and I very much look forward to seeing how it all plays out!

[ceoofglytchell]

Masterlist

Aegon II Targaryen (One Shots)

Bittersweet

Summary: A few days after Rook’s Rest Aegon awakes craving for comfort, hoping to find his mother at his bedside to soothe his pain, but he finds you caring for him instead.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Maid!Reader

Safe Haven

Summary: While Aemond searches for comfort with Madame Sylvi, the older brother has long chosen you, one of the Madame’s more expensive girls, to be the shoulder he cries on.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Brothel worker!Reader

A Fall From Grace

Summary: When Gwayne Hightower traveled to King’s Landing to support his nephew the King in the war, he brought along his dear daughter, you. Soft spoken, pious and well-read; Dowager Queen Alicent took you under her wing immediately, but another pair of eyes never left your form either. From the moment of your arrival you had taken Aegon’s breath away and he was intent in getting closer to you even if it meant setting foot in the Sept again to join you for prayer.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Hightower!Cousin!Reader

Daughter of the Sea

Summary: Crushed by the burdens weighing on his shoulders, Aegon takes you, his wife, on a flight on Sunfyre to a special place, where he can forget the raging war and the burdens of the crown for at least a short time and at the same time start an attempt to get closer to you.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Tully!Wife!Reader

Spare Time

Summary: As King, Aegon Targaryen does not have much spare time anymore and those he has he mostly spends drinking with his friends until… you come along. The most desired maiden in the realm they call you, Lord Tyland Lannister’s daughter, but your playfulness is just as grand as your beauty. Your father may not have time for amusements, but you most certainly do.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

Gilded Cage

Summary: After word of Aegon’s son’s death reaches you, you personally fly to King’s Landing yourself to plead for mercy and to end the senseless bloodshed of war. Little did you know that once you arrive and come face to face with your uncles, they are not willing to let you leave again. They have always been enamored with you, their sweet little niece, and now they finally have you in their clutches, not willing to let go of you a second time.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

A Safe Bet

Summary: During a night out with his friends, Aegon drunkenly makes a bet with one of them that he can charm a woman without even needing to bed her- he set his sights on you, a merchant’s daughter with a heart of gold. The only problem? You are not going to give in to his charms so easily.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x merchant’s daughter!Reader

Fear Not

Summary: Aegon walks in on his new wife having an anxiety attack.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Aemond Targaryen (One Shots)

Gilded Cage

Summary: After word of Aegon’s son’s death reaches you, you personally fly to King’s Landing yourself to plead for mercy and to end the senseless bloodshed of war. Little did you know that once you arrive and come face to face with your uncles, they are not willing to let you leave again. They have always been enamored with you, their sweet little niece, and now they finally have you in their clutches, not willing to let go of you a second time.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader x Aegon II Targaryen

Series

Caterpillar (Prequel to “Butterfly”)

Summary: Before you were Aegon’s cherished little butterfly, you were nothing more of an insect he wished to crush under his shoes. Over the years his feelings grew from hatred, to indifference, to friendship and to the beginning of a young love that was doomed from the very moment he first laid his eyes on you. This is the story of how the young prince and princess slowly began to fall for each other.

Pairing: Young!Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader

Butterfly I

Summary: That fateful night on Driftmark Aegon has made a promise to you, one that he has never even once forgotten, while you were gone. However now six years later you return to him and-gods be good- he is going to make that promise a reality and he most certainly won’t let you leave him another time.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader

Butterfly II

Summary: After getting caught by you mother and an that you will still remember in many years to come, Rhaenyra chooses to leave the Red Keep again to ensure the safety of her sons, leaving her only daughter behind, believing you to be the only one safe for the time being. However, in the night tragedy strikes and years of plotting come to a fulfilling conclusion in the middle of the Dragonpit and your love is once again put to the test.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader

This Masterlist will get updated with every fic I post. I am open for requests <3