#there'll be more to this eventually. i have an idea for where i want it to go. but there's not really much on plot lmao

[iamquiantrelle]

WHAT WE ARE (part one) • virgil van dijk (iamquaintrelle)

# pairings: virgil van dijk x fem! filipina/black reader (fc: michelle domingos) # summary: virgil is your boyfriend…but he also has a wife. ♡ masterlist // send me an ask # tags: @kyoshithewriter, @snowseasonmademe, @euqsblog, @kennaskorner, @peyiswriting, @laylaynaynay130, @toutouslilwrld @thatgirlevag # warnings: cursing, polyamory, football b.s., angst, eventual threesome, smut - 18+ only!!! # author’s note: i have a vague idea where i want to take this but i also know that it can’t be too long/multi chapter fic (like 20+ chapters; thinking more like maybe 6 or 8) & if you don’t like idea then don’t read it! this is for my virg girlies ❤️

The notification sound from your phone cuts through the comfortable silence of Virgil's car, and you already know what it is before you glance at the screen. Another Instagram comment, another tweet, another fucking opinion about your life that someone felt entitled to share with the world.

"Still can't believe VVD is openly cheating and we're all just supposed to be cool with it 🤡"

"The girlfriend is at another match... this is so weird"

"Imagine being the wife watching this play out publicly"

You swipe the notification away and toss your phone into your lap, staring out the window at the Liverpool streets rushing by. Five months. It's been five months since you and Virgil made your relationship public, since he and Rike posted that carefully crafted statement explaining their arrangement, and people still act like you're some home-wrecking villain in a soap opera.

"You're doing it again," Virgil's voice is low, that familiar Dutch accent wrapping around his words like it always does when he's trying to be gentle with you.

"Doing what?" you ask, though you know exactly what he means.

"Reading the comments." His large hand finds your thigh, thumb stroking over the fabric of your jeans. "Thought we agreed you were gonna stop torturing yourself with that shit."

You let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, well, easier said than done when every other person in Liverpool thinks I'm a manipulative gold-digger who somehow convinced you to destroy your marriage."

Virgil's jaw tightens slightly, and you catch the way his grip on the steering wheel shifts. He hates this part—the way people talk about you, about the situation, like they have any fucking clue what goes on behind closed doors.

"You know that's not true," he says firmly. "And you know I don't give a damn what strangers on the internet think about my life."

"But I do," you admit quietly, and it's the truth that's been eating at you for months. "I care, and I hate that I care, but I fucking do, Virgil."

The car slows as you approach Anfield, and you can already see the clusters of fans gathering outside the stadium. Some are holding up scarves, others have their phones out, hoping to catch a glimpse of the players arriving. You know that by tomorrow, there'll be photos of you and Virgil online, accompanied by the same tired headlines and the same judgmental comments.

"Five months," you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

"Five months," he agrees, understanding immediately what you mean. Five months since the world found out about your relationship. Five months since Virgil van Dijk, Liverpool's captain and one of the best defenders in the world, confirmed that yes, he has a wife in the Netherlands, and yes, he also has a girlfriend in Liverpool, and no, it's not cheating because everyone involved is a consenting adult who understands the arrangement.

The statement had been clinical, professional, posted simultaneously on both his and Rike's Instagram accounts with comments disabled. It explained their open relationship, their mutual decision to see other people while remaining married and committed to co-parenting their children. It was dignified, mature, and completely fucking useless in terms of stopping people from having opinions.

"Magi texted me earlier," you say, pulling up the message from Mo Salah's wife. Both she and Saffie have been one of the few bright spots in this whole mess—the only other WAGs who treat you like a normal human being instead of some sort of exotic zoo animal.

Virgil glances over. "Yeah? What'd she say?"

"Asked if I wanted to grab lunch with her and Saffie tomorrow. Said she's tired of the others being weird around me." You show him the text, and he shakes his head with a mix of affection and frustration.

"Her and Saffie are good people," he says. "Wish the rest of them would get their heads out of their asses."

You've tried, really fucking tried, to fit in with the other wives and girlfriends. You've shown up to the coffee dates, the charity events, the dinners. But there's always this undercurrent of discomfort, like they're not sure how to categorize you. Are you a wife? A girlfriend? A mistress? The fact that you don't fit neatly into their understanding of relationships makes them treat you like you're carrying some sort of contagious disease.

"Remember that lunch last month?" you ask, and Virgil's expression immediately darkens.

"The one where what's-her-face asked you if you felt guilty 'taking Virgil away from his real family'?" His Dutch accent gets thicker when he's pissed off, and you can hear it now.

"That's the one." You'd wanted to throw your fucking salad at her perfectly made-up face, but instead you'd smiled politely and explained, for the hundredth time, that you weren't taking anything from anyone. That Virgil's relationship with his wife and children was completely separate from his relationship with you. That everyone involved was happy with the arrangement.

She'd looked at you like you were speaking Klingon.

"I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her," you continue. "Like, woman, it's 2024. People have different types of relationships. Get with the fucking program."

Virgil chuckles, but there's no real humor in it. "Dutch people get it more," he says, which you know is true. When you visited Amsterdam with him last week, meeting his friends and some of his family, the reaction was completely different. A few raised eyebrows, sure, but mostly just acceptance. The Dutch are practical people, and if everyone involved is happy and honest about the situation, then what's the problem?

But Liverpool? Liverpool is different. More traditional, more conservative in some ways. The fans worship Virgil on the pitch, but off the pitch, they want their heroes to fit into neat little boxes. Married or single. Faithful or cheating. They don't know what to do with a man who's both married and dating someone else with his wife's full knowledge and consent.

"I just..." you trail off, trying to find the words. "I just want to exist without it being a whole fucking thing, you know? I want to come to your matches and not have people staring at me like I'm some sort of science experiment. I want to have normal conversations with your teammates' girlfriends without them acting like I'm going to steal their men too."

Virgil pulls into the players' parking area, the familiar sight of Anfield's red brick facade looming ahead. He turns off the engine and shifts to face you fully, his brown eyes serious.

"It's gonna take time," he says, reaching over to cup your face with one large hand. "People need time to get used to things that are different from what they expect. But I need you to know that I don't regret any of this. Not going public, not being with you, none of it."

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. This is the part that makes it all worth it—Virgil himself. The way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel seen and valued and cherished. The way he never makes you feel like you're asking for too much when you need reassurance about this whole complicated situation.

"I know," you whisper. "I don't regret it either. I just wish it was easier."

"Nothing good is ever easy, liefje," he says, using the Dutch endearment that never fails to make your stomach flutter. "But we'll figure it out. We always do."

A knock on the passenger window makes you both jump, and you look up to see Mo Salah grinning at you through the glass. Virgil rolls down the window.

"You two planning to sit in there all day?" Mo asks, his Egyptian accent coloring his English. "Some of us have a match to win."

"Piss off, Mo," Virgil says, but he's smiling now. "We're coming."

Mo's eyes shift to you, and his expression softens slightly. "You good, Y/N?"

It's a simple question, but you know what he's really asking. Mo has been nothing but kind to you since day one, treating you with the same casual friendliness he shows everyone else.

"Yeah, I'm good," you tell him, and mean it. In this moment, sitting in Virgil's car with Mo smiling at you like you're just another part of the team family, you actually are good.

"Excellent. Magi's already inside, saving you a seat. And fair warning—Saffie's on one today. Think she had too much coffee this morning."

You laugh, grabbing your purse and following the guys out of the car. This is another thing you're still getting used to—the casual way some of the team has accepted you. Not all of them, sure, but enough of them that you don't feel completely out of place in the family section during matches.

The walk through the stadium corridors is familiar now, but you still get a little thrill when you see the Champions Wall and realize that your boyfriend's photo is up there, that he's a part of this incredible history. Virgil's hand finds yours, fingers interlacing as you walk.

"Y/N!" The voice makes you turn, and you see Arne Slot approaching with his characteristic calm smile. The manager has been professional and welcoming since your relationship became public, treating the whole situation with typical Dutch pragmatism.

"Hi, Arne," you say, accepting his brief handshake. "Ready for today?"

"Always ready," he says, then glances at Virgil. "Your warm-up looked good yesterday. Keep that focus."

"Of course, boss," Virgil replies, and you can hear the respect in his voice.

Arne nods and continues on his way, leaving you and Virgil to head toward the family section. You spot Magi immediately—her hijab a beautiful ruby red that matches her Liverpool scarf. Next to her, Saffie is gesturing wildly as she tells some story to a small group of women.

"Go on," Virgil says, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. "I'll see you after."

"Play well," you tell him, straightening his collar unnecessarily. "Try not to get too wound up out there."

"Me? Never."

He grins and jogs off toward the tunnel, leaving you to navigate the social dynamics of the family section. You take a deep breath and walk over to where Magi and Saffie are sitting.

"Thank God you're here," Saffie says as you approach, her Liverpudlian accent thick with exasperation. "These women have been doing my bloody head in for the past twenty minutes."

"Language, Saffie," Magi says gently, but she's smiling.

"Right, sorry love," Saffie replies, not looking sorry at all. She turns back to you. "Seriously though, how do you deal with all the staring? I swear that Rebecca woman hasn't taken her eyes off you since you walked in."

You glance over at Rebecca, who's indeed watching you with barely disguised curiosity. "Practice," you say dryly. "Lots and lots of practice."

"Well, fuck that noise," Saffie declares, then immediately looks at Magi. "Sorry, sorry. Forget that noise. You're living your life, they can mind their own business."

Magi pats Saffie's arm affectionately. "She's not wrong, though. People should focus on their own relationships instead of judging yours."

This is what you love about these two—Magi's gentle wisdom and Saffie's fierce loyalty. They're the only ones in the family section who treat you like a normal person instead of some sort of exotic specimen.

"How was Amsterdam?" Magi asks as you settle in between them.

"Good," you say, then pause. "Complicated, but good."

"Complicated how?" Saffie leans in, always ready for gossip.

"Just... seeing Virgil with his family, you know? It's not jealousy exactly, it's more like..." you search for the right words. "It's like watching him be a completely different version of himself. Father Virgil, Husband Virgil. And I love seeing those sides of him, but it also reminds me that I'm only getting part of him."

Magi nods understandingly. "That must be difficult. But you're getting a part of him that's just yours, too."

"I know that, logically. It's just the emotional side that's harder to manage sometimes."

"That's totally normal," Saffie says firmly. "You're sharing someone you love. That's bound to bring up some weird feelings, even when everyone's on board with the arrangement."

The match is starting now, and you force yourself to focus on the pitch rather than the whispered conversations happening around you. Watching Virgil play never gets old—the way he reads the game, the calm authority he brings to the defense, the respect his teammates clearly have for him.

Liverpool scores in the last minute, and you jump up with everyone else, cheering and hugging Magi and Saffie. For a moment, you forget about everything else and just enjoy the pure joy of watching your boyfriend's team dominate.

But then you sit back down and catch Rebecca looking at you with that same expression of half curiosity, half judgment, and the moment is broken.

"You know what?" you say to your friends. "I think I'm gonna head down to the tunnel early today."

"Want us to come with you?" Saffie offers.

"Nah, it's fine. I'll see you both later."

You gather your things and make your way down to the area where players' families wait after matches. It's quieter here, just a few security guards and some staff members. You lean against the wall and pull out your phone, scrolling through messages without really seeing anything.

A text from Virgil pops up: Where'd you go? Magi said you left early.

You type back: Just needed some air. Waiting by the tunnel.

Virgil: Everything okay?

You: Yeah, just the usual stuff. I'm fine.

Virgil: Be there in 10. Love you.

You: Love you too.

You close your phone and take a deep breath, trying to center yourself. This is the reality of your situation—you love Virgil, he loves you, but loving him means dealing with all the external bullshit that comes with being in a non-traditional relationship with a public figure.

"Y/N?"

You look up to see Robbo approaching, still in his kit and looking slightly sweaty from the match.

"Hey, Robbo. Good game."

"Cheers. You alright? Virg mentioned you seemed a bit off today."

It's sweet, the way some of Virgil's teammates look out for you.

"Just tired of being a spectacle," you admit. "Sometimes I wonder if it would've been easier to keep things private."

Andy leans against the wall next to you. "But then you'd be sneaking around, lying to people, hiding a huge part of your life. That's no way to live either."

He's right, and you know it. Before you went public, the secrecy had been eating at you.

"I know," you say. "I just wish people could mind their own business."

"Aye, well, good luck with that. People are gonna have opinions no matter what you do. Might as well live your life on your own terms."

Virgil appears around the corner, showered and changed into his street clothes. His eyes immediately find yours, and you can see the concern in his expression.

"There you are," he says, pulling you into a hug. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm okay," you tell him, and you mean it. The anxiety and frustration from earlier has faded, replaced by the familiar comfort of being in his arms. "Just needed a minute."

"Fair enough." He keeps one arm around you as he chats with Robbo about the match, and you let yourself relax into his side.

"Right, I'm off," Robbo says eventually. "See you both later."

"Drive safe," Virgil calls after him, then turns his attention back to you. "Ready to go home?"

"Yeah," you say, then remember something. "Actually, I want to talk to you about something."

His eyebrows raise. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking about it more seriously. The medical aesthetic spa idea? I think I'm ready to start putting together a proper plan."

The smile that spreads across Virgil's face is brilliant. "That's brilliant, babe. What changed your mind?"

You think about it for a moment. "I guess I realized that I've been so focused on trying to fit into everyone else's idea of what my life should look like that I forgot to actually live it."

"And now?"

"Now I want to build something that's mine. Something I'm passionate about."

"I'd love to help," he says seriously. "But I want to see that you're really committed to this. Where's your business plan, baby?"

"I don't have one yet, smartass. That's why I want to talk to you about it."

As you walk out of Anfield together, heading toward the car park, you feel something shift inside you. For months, you've been so focused on defending your relationship that you've lost sight of everything else you want from life.

The drive home to your shared house in Formby is comfortable, Virgil's hand resting on your thigh as he navigates the familiar roads. The house itself is gorgeous—a modern place with huge windows and a garden that Virgil actually enjoys tending to in his spare time. It's become home in a way that surprises you sometimes.

"So," Virgil says as you both settle onto the sofa with Chinese takeaway spread out on the coffee table, "tell me about this business plan."

You curl up next to him, stealing a prawn cracker from his container. "Right, so I've been doing loads of research. The medical aesthetics industry is booming, especially in areas like Liverpool where you have money but maybe not as much access to high-end treatments."

"Go on," he says, but his hand is trailing up your thigh in a way that's definitely not focused on business planning.

"I'm thinking we start small—Botox, fillers, basic skincare treatments. Build up a client base, then expand into more advanced procedures. Partner with a doctor for the medical side, but focus on the luxury experience. Like a proper spa but with medical-grade treatments."

"Mmm," Virgil murmurs against your neck, having abandoned all pretense of eating. "Sounds good."

"Virgil," you laugh, trying to push him away. "I'm being serious here."

"So am I," he says, his voice dropping to that low register that always makes your stomach flip. "But we can talk business later."

His mouth finds that spot just below your ear that makes you melt, and you find yourself forgetting about business plans and profit margins. This is another thing you love about your relationship—the way Virgil can make you feel desired and wanted, like he can't keep his hands off you even after months together.

"We should really—" you start, but he cuts you off with a kiss that makes your toes curl.

"Should really what?" he asks against your lips.

"Nothing," you breathe, letting him pull you properly into his lap. "Business plan can wait."

Just as things are getting properly heated, Virgil's phone starts ringing. He ignores it at first, too busy kissing along your collarbone, but when it rings again immediately, he sighs.

"Fuck," he mutters, reaching for the phone. His expression softens when he sees the caller ID. "It's Rike. Probably time for the kids' bedtime story."

Your stomach does that little flip it always does when Rike calls. Not jealousy exactly, but something adjacent to it. A reminder that you're sharing him, that there are parts of his life that will always belong to someone else.

"Take it," you say, sliding off his lap. "I'll go make some tea."

You can hear him talking in Dutch as you move around the kitchen, his voice taking on that gentle tone he uses with his children. He's telling them about the match, probably, making them laugh with some story about Mo or Robbo. It's sweet, and it makes your chest tight in a way you can't quite name.

When you come back with two mugs of tea, he's just finishing up.

"Goodnight, kleine muis," he says softly. "I love you too. Put Mama back on for a second."

There's a pause, and then his voice changes slightly as he talks to Rike. Still warm, still affectionate, but different from how he talks to the kids. More intimate in a way that makes something uncomfortable settle in your stomach.

"Yeah, she's good," he's saying, and you realize he's talking about you. "No, no problems. She's been working on that business plan we talked about."

Wait. They talked about your business plan? When? Why?

"Okay, I'll tell her you said hi. Love you too."

He hangs up and looks over at you, and something in your expression must give away your thoughts because his brow furrows.

"What's wrong?"

"You talked to Rike about my business plan?" you ask, trying to keep your voice neutral.

"Just mentioned it in passing. Why?"

You set down your tea and turn to face him properly. "It's just... I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm sharing you in ways I didn't expect. Like, I knew about the kids, I knew about the marriage, but I didn't think about all the little everyday things you'd still share with her."

Virgil's expression grows serious. "Are you saying you don't want me to talk to her about you?"

"No, that's not..." you pause, trying to figure out how to articulate what you're feeling. "It's not that I don't want you to talk about me. It's more like... I'm still getting used to the fact that your wife knows details about my life. About my dreams and plans and things that feel private to me."

"She's not just my wife, though," Virgil says gently. "She's someone I share my life with, someone I trust. And you're a huge part of my life now, so of course I talk about you."

"I know that. Logically, I know that. It's just the emotional side that's harder."

Virgil pulls you closer, and you let him, curling into his side. "What can I do to make it easier?"

"I don't know," you admit. "Maybe just... warn me when you're going to talk about something personal? So I'm not blindsided by finding out you've discussed my business plans with your wife?"

"Fair enough," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I can do that."

You're quiet for a moment, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. Then something occurs to you.

"What else do you talk about? When it comes to me, I mean."

Virgil's hand stills where it's been stroking your arm. "What do you mean?"

"Like, does she ask about our relationship? About how things are going between us?"

"Sometimes," he says carefully. "She wants to make sure you're happy, that you're settling in okay."

"And what do you tell her?"

"The truth. That I'm crazy about you. That you make me happy in ways I didn't expect."

Your chest warms at his words, but there's still something nagging at you. "Does she ever... I don't know, give you advice about us? About me?"

Virgil is quiet for a long moment, and that tells you everything you need to know.

"She does," you say, sitting up to look at him. "What kind of advice?"

"It's not like that," he says quickly. "It's not her telling me what to do. It's more like... she knows me really well. She can see when I'm struggling with something or when I'm not sure how to handle a situation."

"What kind of situations?"

Virgil runs a hand over his hair, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "Like when you get overwhelmed by all the public attention. She helps me understand how to support you better."

You're not sure how to feel about this. On one hand, it's sweet that Rike cares enough to help Virgil navigate your relationship. On the other hand, it's weird knowing that your boyfriend's wife is giving him advice about how to handle you.

"Has she said anything else about me?" you ask.

"Y/N..."

"Just tell me, Virgil."

He sighs. "She thinks you'd be a good mother."

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you sit up straighter, staring at him. "What?"

"She mentioned it a few weeks ago. Said she could see how you are with the kids when we video call, how patient and kind you are. She thinks you have good maternal instincts."

"Why would she be thinking about that?" you ask, your voice coming out higher than usual.

Virgil looks at you for a long moment, and there's something in his expression that makes your stomach flip. "Because I told her I could see a future with you. A real future. And she knows that would probably include children."

"You want children with me?" The question comes out as barely a whisper.

"I mean, not right now," he says quickly. "But someday, yeah. If that's something you want too."

You feel like the air has been knocked out of your lungs. Children. With Virgil. While he's still married to someone else, while he already has children with someone else.

"What would Rike think about that?" you ask.

Virgil shrugs, as if this is the most natural thing in the world. "She'd be fine with it. She understands how much I love you."

"She'd be fine with it?" you repeat, your voice rising. "Virgil, you're talking about having children with your girlfriend while you're married to someone else. How is that something someone is just fine with?"

"Because she knows I love you," he says simply. "She knows this isn't just some casual thing for me. She can see that you're not going anywhere, that this is real."

You stare at him, trying to process what he's telling you. The casual way he's discussing having children with you, as if it's something he and Rike have already talked through and accepted.

"When did you talk about this?" you ask.

"Last week. After you came to Amsterdam and spent time with the kids. She could see how natural you were with them, how much they liked you."

"And she just... what? Gave you her blessing to knock up your girlfriend?"

Virgil winces at your phrasing. "It wasn't like that. We were just talking about the future, about what we both want. She wants me to be happy, and she can see that you make me happy."

You get up from the sofa, needing space to think. This is all happening too fast, too casually. The idea of having children with Virgil while he's still married to Rike, of bringing a baby into this already complicated situation, makes your head spin.

"I need to think about this," you say.

"Of course," Virgil says, standing up as well. "I'm not saying we need to decide anything now. I just wanted you to know that it's something I think about, something I want."

"With me specifically, or just in general?"

"With you," he says without hesitation. "I want everything with you, Y/N. I want a future, a family, a life together."

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tight. This is what you've wanted to hear, isn't it? That you're not just a temporary distraction, that he sees a real future with you.

But the reality of what that future would look like is more complicated than you'd imagined.

Later, as you're getting ready for bed, you catch yourself in the bathroom mirror. You're wearing a silk pink bonnet and a matching slip nightgown, and you look younger than your twenty-eight years. Do you look like someone who's ready to have children? Do you look like someone who could handle being a mother while navigating this complex relationship dynamic?

"You're thinking too hard," Virgil says from the doorway, watching you stare at your reflection.

"Am I?" you ask. "Because it feels like I'm not thinking hard enough."

He comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. "What's going through your head?"

"Everything," you admit. "The business, the relationship, the future. It all feels like too much sometimes."

"We don't have to figure it all out tonight," he says, pressing a kiss to your neck. "We can take it one day at a time."

"Is that what you and Rike do? Take it one day at a time?"

"We take it one conversation at a time," he corrects. "We talk about everything. What we need, what we want, what we're struggling with. That's how we make it work."

"And she really wouldn't mind if we had children together?"

Virgil meets your eyes in the mirror. "She'd probably be excited. She loves being a mother, and she can see how much joy children bring to my life. She wants that for me with you too."

You turn in his arms to face him properly. "I want to talk to her about it myself."

"About having children?"

"About everything. About how this all works, about what the boundaries are, about what she's comfortable with. I feel like I've been living in this relationship without really understanding all the dynamics."

Virgil nods. "I think that's a good idea. She'd like that too."

"When?"

"Whenever you're ready. She's always said the door is open for conversation."

You bite your lip, thinking. "Maybe after I get the business plan sorted. Once I feel like I have my own shit together."

"You don't have to have everything figured out to have difficult conversations," Virgil points out.

"I know, but I want to feel like I'm coming to her as an equal, you know? Not just as your girlfriend who needs her permission for things."

Virgil's hands frame your face, his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones. "You are her equal. You're not asking for permission, you're asking for understanding."

"There's a difference?"

"A big one."

You lean into his touch, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders. This is why you love him—the way he can make complicated things feel manageable, the way he believes in you even when you don't believe in yourself.

"Okay," you say. "I'll think about it."

"Good." He leans down to kiss you, soft and sweet at first, then deeper when you respond. "Now, can we please go to bed? I've been trying to get you naked all evening."

You laugh despite everything. "You're insatiable."

"Only with you," he says, backing you toward the bedroom. "Only ever with you."

As he kisses you again, his hands already working at the straps of your nightgown, you let yourself forget about the complications for a while. Let yourself focus on this—the way he touches you like you're precious, the way he looks at you like you're everything he's ever wanted.

The questions about the future can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, you just want to be with him, to feel the certainty of his love even when everything else feels uncertain.

But as you fall asleep in his arms later, your mind is already spinning with plans. Not just for the business, but for the conversation you know you need to have with Rike. About boundaries and expectations and what it really means to share a life with someone who's already sharing his life with someone else.

The smell of coffee and croissants fills the kitchen as you pad downstairs in your silk robe, hair still wrapped in your bonnet from the night before. Virgil's already dressed for training, looking unfairly good in his Liverpool tracksuit as he leans against the counter scrolling through his phone.

"Morning, beautiful," he says, looking up with that smile that still makes your stomach flip after all these months.

"Morning," you mumble, making a beeline for the coffee machine. You need caffeine before you can be properly human, especially after the heavy conversation from last night that kept you tossing and turning.

"Made you a plate," he says, nodding toward the counter where he's arranged fresh fruit and pastries. "And there's that fancy yogurt you like in the fridge."

This is one of the things you love about living with him—the way he takes care of you in these small, domestic ways. It's different from the grand gestures, more intimate somehow.

"You're an angel," you say, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him properly. He tastes like coffee and mint toothpaste, familiar and comforting.

"Sleep okay?" he asks, his hands settling on your waist.

"Eventually." You don't mention the hours you spent staring at the ceiling, thinking about children and Rike and what your future actually looks like. "What time's training?"

"Nine. But I wanted to talk to you about something first." His expression grows more serious, and you immediately tense.

"What now?"

"Nothing bad," he says quickly. "It's about your business plan. I was thinking we could set up a meeting with my financial advisor, maybe next week? He specializes in new business ventures, could help you figure out the funding side of things."

The fact that he's taking your spa idea seriously enough to involve his financial people makes your chest warm. "You think it's actually good?"

"Baby, I think you could do anything you set your mind to. But I also think you need proper advice from people who understand the market." He glances at his watch. "Speaking of which, you better get moving if you want to make it to the office on time."

Right. Work. Your actual job that pays your actual bills while you fantasize about running your own business.

"Ugh," you groan, already dreading the day ahead. "I forgot about the Henderson viewing at ten. That property's been on the market for ages."

"The one in Woolton?"

"Yeah. Seven bedrooms, indoor pool, more money than sense required." You grab a piece of melon from your plate. "Honestly, sometimes I think these footballers have no idea what to do with their money."

Virgil raises an eyebrow. "Present company excluded, I hope."

"You're Dutch. You're sensible with money by default."

He laughs, pulling you in for another kiss. "I love you. Have a good day, try not to let the office gossips wind you up."

"No promises," you say, but you're smiling as you head upstairs to get ready.

An hour later, you're walking into Prestige Properties Liverpool, the city's most exclusive real estate agency. The office is all glass and chrome, designed to impress wealthy clients who expect a certain level of sophistication. You've been working here for two years as a broker's assistant, first at the London location and now here in Liverpool, learning the trade while handling the administrative side of million-pound property deals.

"Well, well, look who's gracing us with her presence," comes a voice from behind the reception desk. It's Jessica, the office coordinator, and her tone has just enough edge to let you know she's been waiting for an opportunity to start something.

"Morning, Jess," you say neutrally, heading toward your desk.

"Saw the photos from Amsterdam online, how was it? Must be nice though, exploring with your boyfriend while his wife stays home with the kids."

There it is. You'd been wondering how long it would take for someone to bring up the Amsterdam trip. The photos had been everywhere—you and Virgil at dinner, walking through the city, looking happy and relaxed. What the photos didn't show was the time you'd spent at his house with Rike and the children.

"It was lovely, thanks for asking," you reply, sitting down at your desk and opening your laptop. You're not taking the bait, not today.

"Must be strange though, isn't it?" Jessica continues, clearly not ready to drop it. "Being the other woman in such a public way?"

"I'm not the other woman," you say firmly, not looking up from your screen. "Everyone involved is aware of and comfortable with the situation."

"If you say so," Jessica says with a laugh that suggests she very much doesn't believe you.

You're saved from responding by Thomas Webb, one of the senior brokers, approaching your desk with a file in his hand.

"Y/N, good, you're here. I need you to handle the Henderson viewing this morning. The client's being particularly demanding about the timeline."

"Of course," you say, grateful for the distraction. "Everything's prepared. I'll head over at half nine to make sure everything's perfect."

Thomas nods, then hesitates. "Listen, I know you've got a lot going on personally at the moment. If you need any time off, or if the media attention becomes too much..."

"I'm fine, Thomas. Really."

He doesn't look entirely convinced, but he doesn't push. "Alright. But my door's always open if you need to talk."

As he walks away, you catch Jessica rolling her eyes. "Must be nice having special treatment because you're shagging a celebrity."

"That's enough," comes a sharp voice from across the office. It's Priya, another assistant who sits near you. "Why don't you focus on your own work instead of obsessing over Y/N's personal life?"

Jessica huffs and turns back to her computer, but you can feel the tension in the office. This is what you'd been dreading—the way your relationship with Virgil has become office gossip, something for people to pick apart and judge.

Your phone buzzes with a text from Saffie: Coffee later? Need to vent about Curtis being a div this morning.

You smile despite everything. At least you have friends who treat you normally.

You: Can't today, got viewings all afternoon. Tomorrow?

Saffie: Deffo. Bring Magi if she's free. We can properly catch up.

You're typing a response when Amanda Chen, the office manager, appears at your desk.

"Y/N, could I have a word? In my office?"

Your stomach drops. Amanda's tone is professional but serious, and you immediately start running through everything you might have done wrong.

"Of course," you say, following her to the glass-walled office at the back of the space.

Amanda closes the door and gestures for you to sit. She's in her forties, impeccably dressed, and has run this office like a well-oiled machine for the past five years.

"How are you settling in with everything that's been happening?" she asks, getting straight to the point.

"Fine, I think. My work hasn't suffered, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not your work I'm concerned about," Amanda says, leaning back in her chair. "It's the atmosphere in the office. Some of the staff seem to be having difficulty separating your personal life from your professional responsibilities."

You wince. "I'm sorry about that. I never wanted my relationship to become a distraction here."

"It's not your fault," Amanda says firmly. "You can't help who you fall in love with, and you've conducted yourself professionally throughout this entire situation. But I do think we need to address the elephant in the room."

"Which is?"

"The fact that you're dating one of the most high-profile footballers in the city, and that footballer happens to be in a very unconventional relationship situation that people have strong opinions about."

You nod, not sure where this is going.

"I've had three clients this week ask specifically about you," Amanda continues. "Two wanted to know if you'd be handling their property search because they're curious about your connection to Virgil. One specifically requested a different agent because they 'don't approve of your lifestyle choices.'"

"Shit," you say, then immediately look embarrassed. "Sorry."

Amanda waves off your apology. "My point is, like it or not, you've become a talking point. And in this business, being talked about can be either very good or very bad for business."

"Which do you think it is?"

"Honestly? Probably good. This is Liverpool—football is religion here. The fact that you're dating the captain of the most successful team in the city is going to intrigue more clients than it puts off." She pauses. "But only if you handle it correctly."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you need to decide how much of your personal life you're willing to use professionally. Some clients will want to work with you specifically because of who you're dating. Are you comfortable with that?"

You think about it for a moment. The idea of using your relationship with Virgil to advance your career feels wrong somehow, like you'd be taking advantage of something that should be separate from work.

"I don't know," you admit. "It feels weird, using my relationship to sell houses."

"It doesn't have to be using it," Amanda says. "It can just be not hiding from it. You're knowledgeable about the area, you understand the kind of properties high-net-worth individuals are looking for, and yes, you happen to be dating someone who moves in those circles. That's not using your relationship, that's leveraging your life experience."

"I suppose," you say, still not entirely convinced.

"Think about it this way," Amanda continues. "If a client mentions Virgil, you don't have to pretend you don't know him. You can speak knowledgeably about the areas where footballers live, the kind of security and privacy they need, the lifestyle considerations that matter to them. That's valuable insight."

She's making sense, even if it still feels strange.

"What about the staff issues?" you ask.

"I'll handle that," Amanda says firmly. "Jessica's just jealous, and the others will get bored once the novelty wears off. But if anyone makes you uncomfortable or affects your ability to do your job, you come to me immediately."

"Thank you," you say, genuinely grateful. "I was worried you might ask me to keep a lower profile or something."

"Are you kidding? Do you have any idea how many luxury property inquiries we've had since your relationship became public? I'm not about to discourage that kind of business."

You're laughing as you leave Amanda's office, feeling lighter than you have all morning. Maybe this whole situation doesn't have to be entirely negative. Maybe there's a way to navigate it that doesn't involve hiding who you are or apologizing for who you love.

Back at your desk, you dive into preparing for the Henderson viewing. The property is stunning—a modern mansion in Woolton with every luxury imaginable. The kind of place where Premier League players and successful businessmen raise their families in comfort and privacy.

As you review the details, you find yourself thinking about what Amanda said. You do understand this market in a way you didn't before dating Virgil. You know what matters to people with serious money and public profiles—the importance of good security, proximity to private schools, easy access to training facilities and airports.

Maybe that's not using your relationship. Maybe that's just being good at your job.

Your phone buzzes with another text, this time from Virgil: How's the office drama today?

You: Manageable. Amanda had a chat with me about turning my newfound "fame" into business opportunities.

Virgil: You thinking about it?

You: Maybe. Feels weird though.

Virgil: Why?

You pause, thinking about how to explain it. Because I want to succeed on my own merit, not because I'm your girlfriend.

Virgil: Baby, knowing me doesn't make you less talented or capable. If anything, it just gives you additional expertise in a market you're already good at.

You: When did you become so wise?

Virgil: I've always been wise. You're just now appreciating it properly.

You're grinning at your phone when Priya appears at your desk.

"Everything alright? You look like someone just told you good news."

"Just Virgil being ridiculous," you say, showing her the text thread.

"He's got a point though," Priya says, reading over your shoulder. "You've learned more about luxury property in the past six months than some people learn in years. Might as well use that knowledge."

"You think so?"

"Definitely. And honestly, having someone on the team who actually understands that lifestyle could be really valuable. We get so many footballer inquiries, and half the time we're just guessing what matters to them."

It's funny how different perspectives can make you see something in a completely new light. This morning you felt like your relationship was complicating your work life, but maybe it's actually enhancing it.

Your phone rings, interrupting your thoughts. The caller ID shows a number you don't recognize.

"Y/N speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hi, is this Y/N from Prestige Properties? My name is Rudy Bryant, I'm looking for a property in the Liverpool area."

"Yes, that's me. What kind of property are you looking for, Mr. Bryant?"

"Something substantial, good security, near good schools. I'm a new signing with Everton, just moved to the area."

You grab a pen and start taking notes. "Congratulations on the signing. What's your timeline like?"

"Pretty flexible, but I'd like to get settled before Christmas if possible. I was actually recommended to speak with you specifically."

"Oh? By whom?"

"A friend of mine knows Virgil van Dijk. Said you'd understand what I need better than most agents."

There it is. Your first client inquiry that's directly connected to your relationship with Virgil.

"I'd be happy to help," you say, surprising yourself with how natural it feels. "When would you be available for an initial consultation?"

As you schedule the appointment, you realize Amanda was right. This doesn't feel like using your relationship—it feels like being good at your job in a way that incorporates all aspects of your life experience.

When you hang up, Priya is smiling at you.

"How was that?" she asks.

"Actually really good," you admit.

"See? You're not using your relationship to get clients. You're using your expertise to serve clients better. There's a difference."

You spend the rest of the morning preparing for your viewings, and for the first time in months, you feel like you're not just existing in the space between your personal and professional life—you're integrating them in a way that actually makes sense.

By the time you leave for the Henderson viewing, you're feeling more confident than you have in weeks. Maybe this whole situation doesn't have to be about choosing between being Virgil's girlfriend and being your own person.

Maybe you can be both.

..........tbd

[ploffskinpluffskin]

i may never have the actual courage to put myself Out There and post this particular story where anyone can see it (aka ao3 hhh) but it did make me smile while writing it

The problem, Natori had long concluded, was that Claudius was not handsome. Had he been even the slightest bit charming, or dashing, or even just relatively well-groomed, then perhaps Natori’s stubborn fondness for the cat might have been easy to explain away as mere infatuation. Certainly it would have left him feeling about as frivolous as a lovelorn schoolgirl, but it at least would not be some frustrating, unexplainable mystery.

Today the lavender-coated cat comes sauntering into the dusty church with a large, wolfish grin, stopping before Natori where he is counting their paltry collection of coins only so he can lean smugly against the doorway and wait. Natori eyes him with as much preemptive exasperation as he can muster (...which isn’t much, much to his own private dismay), and excuses his helper (who, also much to his private despair, regards the pair of them with a look that reads as unreasonably knowing). 

“Toldja I’d come back, babe,” Claudius says when they’re left alone.

“No,” Natori begins sharply, nearly interrupting him. “You told me specifically you were not coming back last time. I remember quite vividly.”

“Bahh, I was just mad. You know I can’t stay away from my favorite bump in the road.” Here Claudius moves closer, paying no mind to Natori’s own prim body language, slipping an arm across the other cat’s shoulders and pulling him close with a light hip check. “I’d get too sad.”

“Well, we can’t have that, I suppose.”

“Nope.”

“And I suppose this new wanted poster I’ve seen around has nothing to do with your impromptu arrival. Just a coincidence that you come back to where you can claim sanctuary just as you’re running from the bureau again?”

“Aw, babe, you’re killin’ me. I’m all genuine, promise.”

“Hm. And just what did you do this time to have their dubious attention?”

Here the other cat leans back, evidently finding the wall a better support for this particular position.

“Eh. You know.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, it’s not important.” Spoken hastily, in an all too telling fashion which Claudius doesn’t appear to recognize as such.

“No?” Natori looks up to fix his smug guest with an eyebrow raised over the flattest gaze he can currently manage, and he must manage it rather well since Claudius responds to it by fidgeting with his paws before he seems to realize what he’s doing. “I would never have imagined you as the type to ever say no to a rousing story.”

Most likely appearing more confident and nonchalant than he feels, Natori leans forward against the table he’d been previously counting coins upon, settling his chin against the butt of his paw.

“What inconceivably humiliating mishap must have occurred, I wonder, to make you reluctant to indulge in a little tall tale.”

Claudius huffs, glaring stormily at the paw he’s currently drawing circles on. 

“Sure doing your damnedest to make me regret coming back, babe,” he eventually grumbles under his breath testily. Here Natori finally smiles at him, cool but undeniably affectionate, despite himself.

“You say the same thing every time, and yet here you are.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Claudius sulks.

“That you might loiter here for reasons other than my use as a bump in the road? Never.”

“Good. Glad we're all copacetic on the matter,” Claudius responds first briskly. At least before he adds moments later, almost mopily, “... the view isn't bad either.”

A long silence passes between them after that, Natori abruptly aware of how he is stretched across the table and wondering furiously to himself whether Claudius’ words were intended to be read as an innuendo. The other cat doesn’t leave him long to wonder— padding over, leaning forward so that they’re nearly nose to nose, and all with a wide, suggestive grin plastered upon his face.

“I think you’re happier to see me than I am to see you, babe. I can tell.”

Not that long ago, Natori would have felt quite scandalized by that. He would have recoiled, bitten off some panicked, impulsive denial, and Claudius would have been left nursing a massively bruised ego. They might even have argued bitterly, to the point that Natori might be left wondering if the other would ever return. 

Here, now, still at least patently unsure what to say, how to say it, he manages only a soft amusement, a slightly crooked look of knowing concession. And the effect must be rather novel, as Claudius remains in his spot as if mesmerized for a fleeting moment, and then hastily pushes himself back up again. Natori is not quite so eager to return to propriety, and is even bold enough to take a moment to stretch before straightening. There’s a mute warmth which has settled in his chest, a familiar comfort he’s in no hurry to analyze or dislodge.

“You haven’t had a meal in a while, have you.” It’s not a question. Claudius’ sheepish hemming and hawing is answer enough. Whatever he tries to say This is about in an attempt to seem the suave, rakish charmer he very much isn’t, Natori knows it ultimately comes down to the food.

It’s as they’re moving further into the church, Claudius quite uncharacteristically trailing behind in a dutiful manner, that the fluffier of the two tries, “Warmed up to me pretty quick this time, you know, babe,” in an attempt to salvage that aforementioned pretense. “I didn’t get you into some trouble last time, did I?”

Natori snorts, not turning around, not otherwise explaining himself, and responds idly, “Stranger things have happened.”

[r0sy-maple-m0th]

♕ EAH x Nevermore ♕

7/11 revealed! <- PREVIOUS || ༺☆༻ || NEXT ->

oohhhh ada my love i cant wait to write your parts of the story ;]

guys i went back and force on adding the ~ in her quote for genuinely such an unreasonable amount of time lol. it was the only way i could add that kind of lovesick tone i wanted, but at the same time it just makes me think of like gacha heat and weird brookhaven roleplayers and i just💀 yeah a little view into my twisted mind /j

BUT ANYWAYS YEAH I LOVE HER SO MUCH ANDDD I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO TAKE HER ON A VERY POLITE DATE WHERE I TREAT HER AS IF SHE IS WORTH THE ENTIRE WORLD!! too bad she thinks shes straight still sigh </3

also i wanna yap about her likes rq becauseeee this is a free country for the time being!! ; croquet is one of like the most sterotypically upper class activities she could think of, so originally she played it to fit in with her peers, but she ended up genuinely enjoying it. - crude humor to show off her 'unlady like' side. shes insecure about it and often tries to hide her poorly timed snorts behind her hand whenever someone makes an innuendo or offhanded comment. - compliments because she THRIVES off of validation. for the longest time i think she'd need that form of verbal validation to survive (as dramatic as it sounds), but eventually she'll learn that the only validation she needs is from herself. and maybe from her future partner. compliments are always nice tho!

that is all😊

ok so the next two reveals may or may not be off schedule, i have no idea. one of them still needs to be colored + the other..... has yet to even be designed. yeah im looking at you DUKE LAURENT. twunk ass bitch😞💔

ill keep you updated if there'll be any delays thankfully its the weekend tho so i have more time to work on those, i am very determined to keep up my upload streak lol. BUT AFTER THOSE ARE DONE it should be smooth sailing, and you get get see our leading ladies :D

the jolliest joyfulest critters;; @itzkawaiiduh @cherie-soup @a-man-in-the-crowd @existentandexhausted

[lesbo-tuliplvrr]

angst and fluff???

starting the day in bed all cuddly bc you're finally sharing a rest day

sadly, a friend of abby unexpectedly comes over, and abby knows how hard their friend's breakup has been, so she let's them stay.

reader is sooo pissed and usually abby can immediately recognise the jealousy and bad vibes, but she's so distracted

when the friend realises this, she asks to see abby's room and tries to kiss her

reader sees this and literally just storms off

im so sorry its so long lol, angsty ending pls. i hate miscommunication, but i have a feeling you'll do it amazing

you can totally change it too !!

off day

girlfriend!abby x girlfriend!reader

summary: abby continuously fails to heed your warnings about her best friend's intentions. when it gets to the point where she can no longer give her [friend] the benefit of the doubt, you're already gone.

cw: fluff (not for long HEHEHE), angst, kinda irritating abby, miscommunication but not really more like disregard or misunderstanding of said communication, swearing, kiss without consent, no specific physical description of reader, she/her pronouns are used.

a/n: tysm for the request anon:) I had something like this in my ideas to write anyway so I really just killed two birds with one stone. I changed things up a bit hope you don't mind. initially I was gonna make nora the friend but I can't do my girl like that so I just pulled mari's name from yellowjackets because I cannot stand her and can't wait till she dies :D (100% certain she's pit girl idc). anyway, hope you guys enjoy!! lemme know what you think in the replies!

wc: 2.5k

For the first time in a really long time, yours and Abby's off days coincided. Meaning you both could sleep in as long as you wanted. Could stay in bed all day, entangled in each other if you wanted to. And for the most part, that was your plan. Of course you would eventually have to leave the comfort of your shared bed to shower, and eat and perform other bodily functions needed to survive, but for the better part of the day you planned to never leave Abby's side. And neither did she plan to leave yours.

"I missed this so much," Abby spoke from where her face was nuzzled in your neck. She planted a kiss there, making you giggle at the feeling.

"I'm not leaving this bed ever again," you said, sinking deeper into the comfort of Abby and your shared bed. Abby looked up at you, raising up to kiss you sweetly on the lips. You reciprocated the gesture, easily getting lost in her touch. The kiss deepened, both not wanting to pull away. It really had been so long.

Abby had you pinned to the bed in no time, kisses no longer being focused on your lips but being littered everywhere on your body, when suddenly-

Knock Knock!

You and Abby arose due to the sound of frantic knocking, quickly throwing on your robes and heading towards the front door. Abby looked through the peephole, alarmed to see one of her best friends standing on the other side looking frazzled.

"Mari what the hell?" she questioned, opening the door for her friend. The friend in question immediately threw herself into Abby's arms.

"I really need you right now, Abby."

Reader

You weren't a toxic monster. Friends existed. Abby had friends who would need her at times. Just like there'll be times when she'd need them. It was the same for you. But you couldn't help but feel irritated at the sight of Mari.

She was one of those friends that were only suddenly a constant presence after their friend was taken. it seemed like she'd always find the times when you and Abby were just enjoying yourselves to barge in and make things about her.

At first you didn't want to think like that, chalking it down to just a standard case of jealousy. Abby had even noticed your change in behaviour.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of her?" Abby laughed, seeing you roll your eyes in relief and sigh after Mari left, having spent the entire day clinging to Abby.

You felt lousy for feeling jealous. It was so stupid. "I know I don't have anything to worry about but I just wanted to spend today with you." you voiced your frustration to her.

She scooped you up, carrying you to you guys' room, "I'm glad you know that I only have eyes for you. And plus, I am so not her type."

"You don't have to be her type for her to not want me around," you mumbled under your breath, still ashamed at your own pettiness.

"I heard that," Abby chuckled, "and I meant that she doesn't like girls."

A part of you felt stupid and embarrassed. Yet, not a big enough part for you to completely drop suspicions.

But that was only one out of the many other times she had coincidently showed up to hang or seek comfort from Abby, when you both intended on spending time together.

You even confronted Abby about it.

"I know how this may come off, but I'm not trying to limit how much you see your friends." you started, "but it gets to a point Abby. And either you're not seeing that she's taking advantage of your willingness to help and showing zero respect for what we have or you know and you're just not bothered by it. and quite frankly, I can't tell you which is worse!"

Abby heatedly responded, "She isn't taking advantage of anything! She's my friend and if she needs my help I won't hesitate to give it to her. Why are you making it out to be a bad thing that I care about my friends?"

You huffed in frustration, "I'm not talking about your other friends though am I Abby? I'm talking about Mari. Specifically, Mari. If she doesn't have feelings for you, she clearly doesn't like or respect me, and if you have no problem with either of those then I think you need to think a little harder about the future status of our relationship from here on out. I don't want to argue or make things worse but I'm getting tired of sounding like a broken record."

She went quiet at that, seemingly thinking it over.

After a moment of silence, Abby spoke up, “Look, baby. I'm sorry you've been feeling that way and I've been of no help. but I've already told you that she's straight-"

You sighed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. How could she still not get it?

"-But!" she interrupted your huff, "I trust you. If she doesn't make you feel respected then I'll take care of it."

You didn't look convinced.

"I'll have a chat with her. Don't worry, babe."

And Abby did come through on her promise to talk to her. The only thing was, Mari didn't exactly follow through with giving you guys space.

For the time being after Abby had spoken to her, she gave what you took as a half-hearted apology, stating she didn't mean to intrude or make it seem like she didn't care. But not very long after, she continued her usual behaviour. Just in a more careful way now that she knew you were keeping an eye on her.

So, to say your suspicion at yet another one of her intrusions was warranted, was an understatement in your opinion.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Abby asked, guiding a still attached Mari towards the living room. You closed the door behind them.

She divulged into how much her breakup from 2 months ago was still affecting her, claiming that a resurfaced picture of her and her ex triggered her that morning. In your eyes; bullshit. It seemed Abby could also see the crap for once, turning to make eye contact with you.

You raised your eyebrows at her as she turned back to face Mari, telling her to go wait for her in their bedroom.

When Mari left for your room and Abby and you were left alone, she started, "I know you're probably mad that we were interrupted, but she really is struggling a lot with this breakup."

You looked at her deadpan, already accepting that your perfect day at home with Abby was no more.

"And I know, her timing is unfortunate. again." You gave an oh really look, like you hadn't been pointing that out for the past 9 months.

You sighed, quite fed up with the same back and forth, "Just go help her Abby. Your friend needs you."

She looked at you, how apologetic she was evident on her face. But if she were truly sorry you wouldn't be having the same problem over and over.

She walked closer to you, holding your shoulder, "I'll go take care of it really quick, I promise. Then we can have the rest of the day to ourselves."

You scoffed, "That's not what I was concerned about but sure." Of course she still thought this was about you being petty or jealousy. Why couldn't she get it?

"Wha-"

"I'm gonna go get something for you guys from the shop. She'll want something sweet right?" You said, throwing on a coat and shoes, grabbing your wallet from the kitchen island where it remained the night before and heading out to your neighborhood mini mart.

After every argument and discussion you've had about this same issue, she still thinks it's a matter of being irritated at the intrusions? Well sure it was, to some extent, but this was so much more than that. And if Abby was gonna continue refusing to see the truth then this relationship could not last much longer.

Abby

"Sorry I took so long," Abby apologized to Mari, stepping into your and her room. Her friend was looking around your room, poking at the little trinkets and pictures littered around the area.

"It's fine," she responded, moving back to sit on the edge of the bed with Abby, "Is she mad? I know she doesn't like me."

"What? No, she doesn't not like you," Abby replied not so convincingly. Mari clearly wasn't convinced. "She's just..a bit frustrated I guess. We were gonna sleep in and do nothing today seeing as we're both off for the first time in forever." she chuckled.

Instead of feeling apologetic like a normal friend, Mari's facial expression changed to one resemblant to annoyance before she finally spoke up.

"Don't you think she's being a little unreasonable?"

Abby turned to her, confused. "Huh?"

Mari continued, "I mean. I'm not trying to imply anything bad about her but did she think she'd get to be the only person in your life now?" She finsihed with an eye roll and sickening smirk.

"What? No, that is not the case at all-"

"But it is!" Mari stood up, "She doesn't like me hanging around you. It's like she wants you all to herself or something. It's weird."

Now Abby was irritated, "Mar you don't know what you're talking about. If she gave off that impression it's because the times you choose to show up are when we don't want to be interrupted. Which is pretty often if I'm being honest." Abby stood up too, matching her friend's energy.

"What do you mean 'we'? You can't actually agree with her? We were friends before you even met her."

"Yeah but that doesn't mean I'm just supposed to choose you over her!" Abby was infuriated that Mari could ever think that way, immediately jumping to your defense.

"She's my girlfriend. And we see and talk to each other enough, quite frankly. I get to hang out with you more than I get to with her because we're both always busy, so yeah. If I were her I'd be a little frustrated if every time I finally got the chance to be alone with my girlfriend, her friend was suddenly showing up!"

Mari looked taken aback at the tone Abby had taken with her. She had never spoken like that to anyone, let alone her friend.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have raised my voice."

Expertly, Mari broke down in tears covering her face. Now Abby felt double bad. She was already going through so much and instead of being a comfort, all Abby could do was yell at her.

She quickly pulled her friend into her arms, caressing her head while repeating how sorry she was. Mari looked up into Abby's eyes, gradually bringing her face closer and closer to hers. Neither of them heard the front door open and your footsteps coming closer to the room.

As soon as the room door opened, you saw Mari on her tiptoes, lips pressed against Abby's. Abby immediately turned to where you stood in the open door, not realizing the compromising position she was in until you dropped the bag you held. Your face angrily held a Now do you see? expression as you slammed the bedroom door behind you, retreating to the living room. You had no interest in hearing what she could possibly have to say.

Just as you stormed out, Abby pushed Mari away from being so close to her and called out for you. "Baby, wait!"

"What the fuck was that?!" Abby bitterly asked her soon to be ex-friend, roughly wiping the feeling of Mari off her lips.

"I- I'm sorry, I just- I've liked you for so long-" Abby scoffed looking away from Mari's face, fuming, "-and- and she's no good for you! I'm sorry but you know it too, she's toxic Abby!"

Abby raised her eyebrows, eyes widening at the sheer insanity Mari was spewing, "The only toxic one here is you Mari! You know she warned me about this. I can't believe I didn't believe her."

"Wha- see?! She warned you about me? Who does she even think she is, she just got here! I've been your friend for years!"

"Too bad, so sad mari," Abby taunted, finally fed up with her, "Who she is, is my girlfriend and you're not going to get in the way of that. So while I'm asking nicely, get the fuck out of my house I never want to see you again."

Mari looked at her dumbfounded. Like she couldn't believe the words she was hearing.

"Out! now!" Abby demanded, following Mari out of the room. Mari, accepting this really was the end, stormed out of the front door completely ignoring your presence. You sat at the kitchen island watching Abby from across the room.

Reader

You looked at Abby who was now making her way towards you. She felt the anger in your muted facial expression, knowing she fucked up. Bad.

"I- you were right." You didn't say anything, continuing to stare at her.

"Believe me when I say, I really had no idea she felt that way and was trying to get in the way, I gave her the benefit of the doubt but I shouldn't have dismissed your skepticism. I should have known better than to think you'd have an issue with her for a reason so silly as plain jealousy.”

You didn't grace her with a response this time either. She came closer, placing her hands on your thighs, looking into your eyes.

"You told me so and I let it get to this point and I am so so so sorry, I promise she won't be an issue anymore. I told her off, for good this time."

Your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you tried to muster up the courage to forgive her. A single tear ran down your face, your eyes red in anger and frustration and sadness. she tried wiping the tear from your cheek but you brushed her hand away, finally speaking up.

"No." you said, shaking your head as you got up from the seat in the kitchen.

Abby looked frantic, "Wh-what do you mean 'No'? I told you I was sorry, I- i took care of it." She trailed after you.

You moved through the living room, heading straight to open the front door. Abby quickly stopped you, using her strength to hold the door ajar so you couldn't leave just yet, "Where are you going?" Her voice sounded shaky.

"I need some space, Abby. Please?" you asked, not looking her in the eye. You couldn't handle seeing the pain in her eyes. You needed to think about yourself right now.

Time and time again, you've shut out your own gut feelings to please Abby. Insistent on there being no ulterior motives on Mari's part, you trusted her. Maybe you were just jealous. Maybe you were too possessive of Abby. But jealousy was not such a blinding emotion that you were rendered unresponsive to disrespect.

She respects you. She respects us. You believed her again.

Yet here you stood. Relationship hanging on by a spider silk thread.

She begrudgingly let you go, trusting you'd not too long be back. Your mental bags were already packed, however, and there was no coming back.

a/n: sooo how we feeling bout that one?? idk tbh. also are mini marts a thing in the land of capitalism (america)? I've literally never been there so if they aren't, just pretend if you're american. (it's in the name, it's like a little supermarket/shop usually walking distance from housing areas. you're never really too far away from a mini mart in the caribbean) . also, it's crazy to me how subconsciously my default when writing is to relate to an american audience (I hate yall so bad for that, jk jk, or am i). like where I live, coats are utterly unnecessary. no one wears a coat that isn't a rain coat unless it's part of a fit and they're going to one of the colder malls typically up north, idk I just found that funny.

anyway I'll stop yapping and continue writing the other requests I've gotten. mwah! love yall. thanks for reading!!

[linkons-most-wanted]

Death and Rebirth chaotic thoughts!

Spoilers below the cut. Hopefully mobile Tumblr won't troll anyone.

SPOILERS BELOW HERE

I will be doing more structured things with these thoughts but I gotta ramble now that I've finished the new main story content! Still drooling at the event tho, we're gonna get even more little reveals I'm sure...

In no particular order:

We got explicit confirmation that Philos's iterations in the myths are parallel potential versions of the same planet! In a GORGEOUS cinematic, at that. I think I might have to screen cap that so I can attach it to a post where I talk about Philos lore. We also know that every version of Philos eventually dies (as all planets do). This actually also creates the possibility that not all versions of Philos started as Earth--that's actually only referenced in Xavier's Where Shooting Stars Fall anecdote, and we see graphics of other versions of Philos that are whole planets (not with the shattered plates) covered in sad (as in Rafayel's Philos myth) or fire (as in Beyond Cloudfall). It also means that Earth can have futures in which it doesn't become Philos--like Dawnbreaker's future. It's maybe a little anticlimactic that they're all parallel? But at the same time a relief to my lore brain because it means I can stop looking for clues about how they're supposed to reconcile. Head-canon wise I still like the idea of certain overlaps between the various timelines, such as Xavier and Sylus recognizing some of the same Philosian tech.

EVER CAUSED THE CHRONORIFT CATASTROPHE BY FUCKING WITH MC, I am SO proud of myself for piecing this together before from the timing, and I even have receipts! I had my suspicions that she was "created" rather than born (since she's elsewhere described as being born from the planet's core) so getting the confirmation that she's "from Deepspace" is extremely exciting.

And on that note, SYLUS SAVED BABY MC. 😭 I am going to be chewing on the bars of my enclosure for more details about that in the event, I hope we get more tidbits... if not you can count on me for a Sylus PoV with head canon to fill it all in 😂 I think what I'm gonna do is add alt chapters to Cosmic Interlude so the current chapters will still be there, but there'll be alternate/additional chapters with the updated canon. My secondary goal with Cosmic Interlude was always to provide a streamlined/clarified version of what we know from canon (partly so I can keep it straight myself) so I def want it to be able to still do that. Folks can then skip the "old" chapters if they want, or read them all for ideas on different ways things could have gone (and we know this game loves branching timelines). And speaking of timelines...

We get an even more primordial origin story for Sylus x MC???? 🥹 Two cosmic beings, forced together because only they could match the other's strength, destined for one to kill the other, but they escape and reshape the destiny of the entire universe 🥹🥹🥹 I'm sure it's partly my bias but Sylus backstory just hits different. I wonder if we'll get a myth from that setting!!???

And that makes me wonder--how does Sylus know about this past life? Did he fall to Philos like a shooting star and wind up amongst the dragons? Did their consciousness energy disperse into the cosmos, and then manifest again on that version of Philos and he's managed to maintain one stream of consciousness since then? If so, when did those memories return to him? Perhaps in dreams, perhaps in the Deepspace Tunnel... so many yummy options... Speaking of delicious, the way he knew RIGHT AWAY that she'd "eaten" the spatium core, and how tempting it must smell... 😋 there will be smut about it.

Switching gears to Zayne, my poor baby. He's going THROUGH IT. And we are finally getting some reveals to all these things that have been foreshadowed. I saw some people expressing confusion that "Dawnbreaker" doesn't remember MC, but I think it's important to realize that the "Dawnbreaker" that manifests isn't necessarily the same one we see in the Anecdotes--Zayne's whole thing is "yin and yang", so I think we're seeing a more "primordial" Dawnbreaker, the ur-yin of Zayne, if you will. The inevitability of death given physical form. The Still in Dark anecdote demonstrates that even this side of Zayne is capable of compassion--through accessing the "energy" of Dr Zayne's yang. Likewise, Dr Zayne is capable of cold utilitarianism through the "energy" of Dawnbreaker's yin. I'm sure we'll get lots of layers here, my gut says trust the writers.

Also, I'm pretty sure we did not successfully destroy the energy core?? I'll look extra carefully when I go through and annotate everything (the results of which will land here) but I do believe that core remains a loose thread, though the press conference was still successfully delayed.

Zayne attempting to disappear at the end is SO him (they have made this a pillar of his personality to the point that it was a key event in the Tomorrow's Catch 22 AU, even) and also so infuriating. I'm so glad we found him before they closed out the chapter, even if it ended on a tense note! I'd say odds are very high we'll get something at the start of the next main story content (whenever that happens) that's like "Zayne was kind of distant and then after his leave he returned to the hospital as if nothing had happened" since episodic universes like this one need that kind of reset. But we'll see.

The reveal that Benedict is basically a shapeshifting Wanderer is FASCINATING, and I think it's implied he was originally "created" at Mt Eternal? Is he the Wanderer that Zayne kept going back to re-freeze, maybe? (as we saw in Snowy Serenity) And now he's escaped? That could explain why Zayne didn't immediately recognize him and how he knew about William. I also think it's interesting how Benedict said, of killing William, "Even I would have hesitated" and we know that Zayne actually did hesitate. So I think we see how easily provoked Zayne's guilt is here--and/or the implication that Zayne was indeed "possessed" by Dawnbreaker in order to kill William, as some have suggested.

I'm also glad we FINALLY have clarity that Zayne was 12 during the Chronorift Catastrophe and those events happened after he met MC, because there's a few errors in his timeline that made it hard for me to pin down whether his dreams began during the catastrophe or whether they were prophetic. I think we'll get a bit more clarity in the event content, too.

I'm also really going to be chewing on the part where he ended up needing to restrain MC (other than that it's hot, okay, idk, it's the second time the Zayne writers have tied someone up and injected them and we're into it) because she was "too strong"--I'm really curious how this manifested, and whether it contributed to that flicker of murderous intent from Dawnbreaker later. The natural assumption is to assume she was just sort of mindlessly flailing to escape--but what if what she experienced as unconsciousness was something more akin to possession? Or her new powers spiraling out of control like Zayne's Evol does? Aaaaah I want answerssss

Last thoughts for now are that I find the contrast between Sylus and Zayne so interesting, especially since they're my two favorite LIs. Sylus is a creature who defies fate, whereas Zayne is bound by it. Sylus's desires influence him (as when he needs to distract himself from the smell of the spatium core from MC) but do not control him. Whereas as Zayne tries desperately to keep everything under control, those desires inevitably end up controlling him. More of the conflict in Sylus's chapters is external (things he and MC need to react to) whereas more of the conflict in Zayne's chapter is internal (decisions he has to make, concerns about his state/motives, etc).

The actual last thing I'll add her (if you read this far, ilu) is that I'll continue updating my lore project GitHub with all the new content. If you've got even a small amount of coding experience, you should find GitHub desktop and Obsidian pretty approachable if you want to explore the project with all the links intact! So so so so so much was foreshadowed and I'm going to be geeking out going through all of it. I'll probably also post some summaries to this blog as well!

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 4: Loyalty

Okay, so next chapter out, hope you like it! Sorry for posting a little late, but here it is anyway (btw sorry for the gif...) Again, reminding people that my requests are open and next chapter will be posted tomorrow <3 PS! Don't worry, there'll be more smut later in the story.

“Chris!” I shout, turning him around. He starts grunting, eyes slowly opening. 

“Ash?”

“No, no Chris it’s me.” I say, trying to sound comforting. 

“What happened? Where are the others?” 

He slowly sits up, looking around. His hand moves up to his head, touching a large bruise. 

“We heard Josh, and Ashley got dragged into this room. The door was locked, and I did my best to get it open.” I nod, hand on his shoulder, signalling for him to continue. His breathing quickens as he continues talking. 

“And, and… When I got in she was laying on the floor. There was this guy in a mask.” he trails off. Like he doesn’t know what happened after. I get nervous, is there some kind of murderer on the mountain with us? 

“And then? I ask. 

“Then you found me.” I look around, but there’s no trace of Ashley nor Josh. I help him up, and while he’s a little unsteady at first, he composes himself. 

“We need to find them,” I state, taking the flashlight beside him and turning it on. We start walking, hoping to find some sort of clue to where they could’ve been taken. The kitchen seems empty, and I’m about to walk out the door when Chris stops me. 

“Look.” He’s holding Ashley’s small pouch, embroidered with her initials. There’s some sort of red liquid on it, and I have to turn away. Fucking hell, this guy might have killed Ashley. 

“Not good, not good, not good” Chris keeps chanting to himself. I look worriedly up at him, he has to get it together. 

“Chris…” I whisper. “We need to keep a cold head, okay? Don’t jump to conclusions” 

I already feel the dread of my words. They might both already be dead, and I’m postponing the inevitable. 

“Yeah, you’re right” he whispers back. 

“But why would he keep me alive?”

“I don’t know…” I hadn’t thought about that, and I had no idea why. It didn't make sense. We make our way out of the kitchen, walking to the hallway. As we open the door, two crows fly by, and we both shriek. I’m about to ask what the birds are doing inside when I shine the light on the wall, covered in blood. “Shit shit shit” I ramble. This is not safe. We need to get out of here, out of the lodge and off this mountain. Chris grabs hold of my arm, clearly in shock. I keep going, dragging him with me. 

“Ash!”

“Josh!”

No one answers. The next door leads outside, and I look around. They must’ve gone outside, there are no other doors. We walk outside, and I shiver. I don’t know if it’s because of the cold or because I’m terrified. We walk down the stairs, and continue down the path. There’s blood spread several places over the snow. We come to a crossroad, and Chris starts walking left. I follow suit, coming to a small opening in the woods. We continue forward, Chris looking back to see that I’m still here. 

A man suddenly pops up from the ground, making both of us scream. It’s not a man, it’s a made up scarecrow-like prop. 

“What the hell?” I whisper. 

“Who would do this?” he asks, looking back at me again. 

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

I look forward, seeing something bloody and pink in the snow. I point there, making Chris shift his vision. We walk around the prop, seeing a bloodied pig-head at the bottom of a tree. 

“Aw, shit” he comments. And I gag. 

“Chris, I want to go” I state, already starting walking back. 

“Hey, hey. We still need to find the others”

I sigh in disappointment. Yes we do. I nod towards the other pathway, urging him to lead the way. He’s the man after all. We walk past the broken fence, eventually getting to a shed. 

“Ashley! Joshua!” we both shout, but yet again no answers. The shed’s door is open, and I hesitate going in, but Chris is already some paces in front, so I have to follow. There’s nothing much there, a bunch of tools and wood. Chris suddenly yells out. 

“Shit!”

I see a small cage falling from the ceiling, him barely dodging it. 

“What the fuck?” I whisper, and he shakes his head at me. 

“Chris!”

We both stop. That was definitely Ashley’s voice. 

“Ashley!” we yell in unison. We both run forward, looking around for her. 

“Where are you?” I ask. 

“I… I don’t know” she answers, and I try to follow the noise. I touch something cold and metallic. Wire fence. 

The light comes on, and we’re met with Ashley and Josh tied up against a couple of tree plates. 

“Josh! Ashley!” 

There’s a big, red saw in the middle of the room. 

“Guys, are you there?” she asks, looking up. 

“Hello, and thank you all for joining me” a dark voice says. I look around, seeing a speaker in one of the corners. 

“What the fuck?”

“Oh my god, Josh wake up!” she shouts again. I look over, seeing Josh open his eyes for the first time. 

“Oh Josh!” I shout, making him look over, giving me a confused yet scared look. I tug at the metal, but it’s not budging. 

“Tonight, we’re going to conduct a little experiment,” the unfamiliar voice says. Chris finds a door to the room, and he tries opening it, putting in his whole body. 

“Fuck fuck fuck!”

Ashley starts crying, scared out of her mind. 

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get you out of here” I tell them. 

I look around for something to cut the wire, anything, but can’t glimpse something useful. 

“A sort of test…”

“Ashley, what the hell is going on?” Josh asks, starting to shake, trying to get out of the grips. 

“Now, for this experiment, we’ll need the cooperation of our two test-subjects, Joshua and Ashley.”

“Holy shit, oh my god”

I grab the sides of my head. How the hell do we get them out of there? Chris is still trying to get the door open, but to no avail. 

“But, we’re going to need one more brave participant to help decide which subject will live, and which will die.” My stomach drops, and Chris stops tugging at the door, looking over at the both of them. No, this isn’t real. This can’t be. Ashley goes into full panic mode, screaming and trying to get loose from the ties. 

“Oh no no no!!!” 

“Chris…” I whisper, reaching out and touching his arm for comfort. What the hell is going on? He’s standing completely still, in a shocked state. 

“Get us out of here! Get us out of here now!” Ashley shouts while continuing to wiggle. 

“No you can’t do this, let me out of here you maniac!!” Josh shouts at the same time. My heart raises, and I look up to Chris. His eyes are wide open, and I can feel him shaking. 

“Please, please, everyone calm down” the Psycho continues. 

“It’s all very simple, Christopher”. Chris looks up at the speaker, waiting for some sort of instructions. 

“You will find a lever placed directly in front of you.” We both look forward, seeing a red lever with pictures of both Ashley and Josh. 

“All you have to do is choose who you will save.” My heart stops, eyes widens and hands shaking like they’ve never done before. The saw starts, making loud mechanical noises. 

“No no no no!” I yell, and start running to the door, trying to get it open. Chris is still standing still. 

“Please, stop, please” Ashley pleads, mascara running down her cheeks. 

“Don’t do this, stop this now” Josh demands. He looks over at me, and we lock eyes while I still do my best to get the door open. Chris suddenly gets out of his trance as he slowly backs away from the lever. 

“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap” he keeps chanting. 

“Dude, buddy, let’s just think about this for a minute” Josh starts, but is interrupted by Ashley’s screams for help. 

“Get me out of here, please, please!” 

“You can’t let us die!”

Chris starts spiralling. 

“Just, just, just give me a second. I need to think.” He looks over at me for support, but I don’t know what to do. I give him the same panicked expression he bears himself. 

“I can’t think straight!” he shouts, grabbing his head in his hands, refusing to look at them. I want to help them, but I don’t know how. Ashley, who’s been my friends through good and bad, and Josh who I just started being with once again. They both had betrayed me in some way, but there was not a chance I was going to pull that lever. Tears fill my eyes as I stop tugging at the door, sinking down beside it. I can’t help but break down, the situation is too complex to do anything about. 

“Ashley, I will get you out of this, I won't let you die!” Chris comforts, but Ashley keeps her eyes shut while continuing crying. 

“Please, please no…” Josh begs. 

“Chris!” I yell over the sound of the saw. I stand up, looking around again. I see a small metal rod in the corner. I run for it, taking a hold of it before hearing the Psycho’s voice again. 

“You have chosen to save… Ashley”

“No Chris, no!” Josh shouts. Ashley keeps crying loudly. The saw starts moving toward Josh, and run to the door, placing the metall between it and the wall. 

“No no no no no” Chris rambles, not knowing what to do. 

“I thought we were friends, man! I thought we were friends. Why would you do this?” Josh cries, and I continue to push the metal. 

“No no Josh!” I hear Ashley shout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Josh I- I don’t…” Chris continues, too deep to get his thinking straight. 

“Stop this, you can’t do this!” Chris shouts to the maniac. I hear Josh’s screams, hearing the saw starting to cut through him. The door cracks open, and run in, just in time to get covered by his blood.

“Josh!” I plead, and hear soft spoken protests before he goes silent. Ashley still has her eyes shut, crying, also covered by his blood. 

“Don’t look, guys, don’t!” Chris shouts. 

“Why? Why can’t I look, Chris, please tell me he’s okay” she whimpers. 

The door on the other side pops open, and Chris runs in and unties her. I rub the blood off my face, being met with a saw still moving, and Josh’s body parted in two. The world goes silent as I fall to my knees. His eyes are closed, his upper body still being held up by the ropes. I cry, loudly, screaming and shouting. I can’t breathe, my intakes small and quick. I feel two arms take hold of me, dragging me out of the room, and out of the shed. 

“We need to go” Chris whispers, his voice squeaky and broken. I let him lead me out to Ashley, who’s sitting in the snow, crying and shaking her head. 

“Chris!” a familiar voice says. Matt and Emily are coming towards us, their eyes filled with worry. They start running, Emily kneeling down to me, her face filled with horror. She uses my tears to dry off the blood on my cheeks. Matt gets a hold of Chris, keeping him on his feet. 

“Who’s blood is that?” Emily asks, clearly shaken already. 

“Are you guys okay?” Matt adds, having to use his full force to stop Chris from falling down. 

“Josh…” I whisper, and Emily looks down at me again. 

“Josh what?”

“H-he died” Chris begins, starting to cry even harder. Ashley can’t stop sobbing, mumbling ‘Josh’ over and over. 

“Right in front of us” Chris continues. 

“What?” Matt asks, clearly confused. 

“There’s this Psycho on the mountain” I add, grabbing Emily’s arm to keep myself up. 

“Wait what, a Psycho?” Matt asks, looking down at me, waiting for me to continue. 

“He’s going to kill us all” Ashley manages to squeak out. 

“Something’s not right” Matt states, looking at Emily. 

“We need to get out of here” she adds, helping me up on my feet before helping Ashley. 

“I still don’t understand what’s happening”

“There’s a maniac, and he killed Josh with a saw in some sick game”

“He’s going to kill all of us”

“I had to choose between him and Ash, and the saw cut him in two, spilling fucking everywhere and he dead and…”

Ashley falls to the ground again, but I am quick to grab her, keeping her steady. 

“What? What the fuck, oh my god Chris” Emily starts, but I don’t know what there’s to say. 

“I-I killed him, I did!” Chris cries. 

“No the Psycho did, you didn’t” I shakily tell him, holding onto Ashley for dear life. 

Matt and Emily look at each other. 

“No, this is insane, we need to get help” Emily states. 

“We’re going to figure this out” Matt says, keeping his hands on Chris. “We need to find the others” he adds, seeking confirmation from Emily. 

“But we also need help, Jess and Mike are off 69-ing each other and god knows where Sam is.”

“She’s in the lodge” I state, suddenly scared for her. I didn’t even think about looking for her before coming here. 

“Okay, we split” Emily starts. 

“You guys get to the lodge, find Sam. We’ll go get help, there was some radio tower on the mountain, we could try and reach someone there.”

I nod. At this point, Ashley has stopped crying, she’s just completely silent. Chris takes her off my hands, starting to walk back to the lodge. I follow them, turning around to Emily and Matt. 

“Be quick, come right back when you’re done” I demand, and they both nod back at me. I run back to Ashley and Chris, unbothered by all the animalistic sounds coming from the forest. I just cry, silently. Josh is dead. Josh, who I was with just an hour ago, is dead. The picture of him being capitated covers my mind, clouding all other senses.

I arrive at the lodge, but instead of walking in, I sit on the stairs, stroking my fingers over the scrape on my other arm. I touch my hand, still feeling a faint warmth where he held me. It’s in my imagination, but I still let myself believe it. I sit outside until the tears stop flowing, and my lips are cracked and skin salty. 

[spoonfulofmilo]

hey, I love your writings. Can you please do a Lando x reader, where the reader is lily’s best friend and often hangs out with Alex and Lando with lily. And Lando is constantly flirting but the reader is clueless and one time she says “are you trying to flirt with me?” And he replies “for a year now, thank you for finally noticing!”

thanks so much for your request, sorry if it's a little short :)

sorry it took so long to get out

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

lando norris x female!reader

“Hey Y/N. I love your outfit today.” Lando blushed slightly as he complimented Y/N

“Aww thanks, I got it from Dior, as a gift for some sponsorship I did a while ago.” Y/N smiled as she did a small twirl to show off the outfit.

“Yeah…” Lando awkwardly tried to pass it off as a friendly comment.

—

“Hey Y/N, do you want to go for dinner tonight?” Lando looked more hopeful, there was no way she could interpret an invitation to dinner as solely platonic.

“Aww yeah sure, we should go to that new restaurant around the corner. There'll also be some fans there, so we can please the fans!” Y/N grinned as she started rambling about what they could have there.

“Yeah…” Lando awkwardly tried to shuffle away again, once again thwarted by Y/N’s oblivion.

—

“Hey Y/N, do you want to come around to my room after?” Lando didn’t entirely mean it in ‘THAT’ way, but there was no way Y/N could interpret an invite to a hotel room as anything but romantic.

“Yeah sure, F1 2020?” Y/N grinned as she looked at Lando, eyes sparkling. The same eyes that were the sole reason that Lando was stuck in this spot now.

“Yeah…” Lando was very tempted to punch something now.

1 month in

“Is she taken? Is this why she isn’t flirting back?” Lando had managed to corner Lily, who had been the one encouraging Lando to begin flirting with Y/N, but now Lando was just annoyed.

“No, definitely not. She would tell me. Not to mention she would be showing me so many photos. Also I was on her phone last week, the closest was some guy called Karl, I quizzed her. It’s her brother’s boyfriend.” Lily attempted to reassure Lando.

“Okay, so why isn’t she flirting back?” Lando was a little pissed at the fact that he’d been flirting with Y/N for a month, and she was still acting like it was entirely platonic.

“Because you have fallen in love with someone who quite frankly, Lando, is the densest person I know, so you’re screwed.” Lily patted Lando between his shoulder blades, trying to reassure him, while remaining brutally honest.

“Thanks Lily.” Lando got up and stretched, ready to try again, and then the race.

“Just keep trying, I’m sure you’ll get it eventually.” Lily reassured before he wandered off again.

“Eventually.” Lando sighed.

3 months in 

“Daniel, how did you get a girlfriend?” Lando shyly approached his ex teammate, and watched as his eyes lit up.

“Ooooh, got your eye set on someone, Lando? Who’s the lucky girl?” Daniel shook Lando’s shoulders, ready to tease the young boy.

When Lando hesitated Daniel seemed to sense that there was something he wanted to say, and paused and his eyes lit up a little less.

“Is it a guy, Lando? You know I won't judge…” Daniel tried to approach the topic, sensitively. He knew he was known as the ‘happy go lucky’ guy, but he knew when his friends needed to talk, he needed to just be there for his friends.

“No, no, no. Definitely a girl. I just-” Lando quickly shut down those rumours, while he wasn’t homophobic, he was definitely straight, despite the way he acted around his teammates.

“Aww has Lando gone all shy?” Daniel immediately resumed the teasing.

“No, the complete opposite. I’ve been blatantly flirting with her for almost 3 months and she has no idea.” Lando sighed.

“Have you come up with the idea that she…just maybe…isn’t into you like that?” Daniel tried to let him down slowly.

“No, Lily asked her and she said she has a crush on me, she’s waiting for me to make the first move. Which I have been doing!” Lando put his head in his hands, knees up to his chest.

“There’s a lot of women around Lando, maybe the densest one isn’t for you.” Daniel was half teasing him, half trying to let him down easily now.

“No, I would've said that 3 months ago. Now that I’ve realised she’s THAT dense. I’m now determined to make her realise that I’m flirting with her.”

“Wait, Lando…are you talking about Y/N?” Daniel’s eyes widened.

“Yeah why?”

Daniel couldn’t help it and started laughing.

“My man, you are going to die a virgin.”

“She’s not that dense is she?” Lando looked slightly panicked.

“She once walked in on her surprise birthday party and asked what the party was for.” Daniel was trying to hold his laughter.

“I’m fucked.” Lando buried his face in his hands.

“Yeah you are, but you’ve got your mates.” Daniel clapped him on the back before wandering ahead again towards his garage.

9 months in

“Lily, you are friends with the densest person I know.” Lando sighed

“Oh I know. I’ve been trying to hint that you’re flirting with her for the past, what? 9 months. Yeah she is a dense motherfucker.” Lily laughed slightly, but stopped at the hopelessness on Lando’s face

“Any suggestions?” Lando looked so defeated.

“No. just keep trying, eventually she’ll get it. Or she won’t and you’ll just have to move on.” Lily comforted him, before he got up and went off to race.

A year in

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” Y/N started laughing at the idea, however she stopped when she saw Lando’s face.

“For a year now, thank you for finally noticing” Lando laughing and throwing his hands up before seeing Y/N’s face.

“A year?” Y/N looked shocked and a little sad.

“...yeah” Lando noticed how all of their friends stepped back and tried to give the 2 space. “You’re a little dense.” he shrugged.

“Oh my god- you were FLIRTING WITH ME?” Y/N looked so shocked.

“...yeah!” Lando looked a little sheepish.

“Oh, my god, Lando I’m so sorry, you should’ve asked me on a date or something, I would’ve said yes and…” Y/N started rambling and wringing her hands as she panicked. ‘A year, how did she not notice’ she thought to herself.

“I did. Or well, I thought I did, but you uhh didn’t realise.” Lando scratched at the back of his neck, looking down at the floor.

“OH LANDO! I’m so sorry, uhhh, if you still want, we can go on a date?” Y/N offered, also kinda sheepish.

“Of course, I would love to.” Lando smiled, before offering his hand to Y/N, and she took it, smiling.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3

[kalinara]

So recent posts have got me thinking about the Throuple, and how I personally feel about it. And I'll be honest. I dislike it and I love it.

I dislike it because, ultimately, there really isn't much there. A couple of suggestive panels, a house schematic, one scene of expressed attraction between the guys, one scene that seems really heavily implied that they'd intended to go to bed together (I'll post that later, it's from early X-Force and it's pretty suggestive, IMO), and a few cameos in pride issues.

If Marvel was advertising this relationship, I'd call it queer-baiting at best.

But I always kind of wonder about the background of things. And I tend to assume that the Throuple was never intended to be a thing by the suits and higher ups. I think maybe a few creative types kept slipping things under the radar.

It does mean, unfortunately, that, in terms of actual story or emotional development, it's lacking. I mean, look, biased Scott fan that I am, I would have REALLY liked to see Logan apologize for basically everything AvX onward before those two characters hopped into bed together. I'd like to see Jean get to have opinions about everything that happened while she was gone (many things that she'd now remember from her younger self's point of view), before that happened too. These are characters with a lot of history.

So in terms of execution, the Throuple is a fizzle. (Hell, even the Jean/Logan side barely got off the ground. Some bits where she kept him alive when he was trying to save Xavier through time - which she'd have done even if he were just a friend. And one sex scene in the hot springs. That really feels like a satisfying culmination of decades of yearning. If I were a Jean/Logan fan, honestly, I'd probably feel cheated.)

But you know, I do love it for other reasons. Because however shitty the execution, the IDEA is firmly planted and that idea isn't going away.

All you have to do is go on reddit or tiktok and see anytime one of those toxic masculinity fanboys starts bitching about how Logan is 100% straight "blah blah woke agenda", and you get at least three people jabbing back "yeah, except on the moon".

And that's the genius of it. Because NO one likes those particular fans. And so even people who are utterly indifferent to the idea of the Throuple. Even folks who dislike the execution are very pleased to troll that hypothetical dude at every chance.

Marvel can say what they want. Brevoort (whether he believes it or is just Marvel's spokesperson) can say what he wants. The fact that the annoying fanboys go "I'm so glad he didn't walk back his denial and cater to the wake agenda" are just admitting that there's something TO deny.

I'll be honest, I suspect the issue is Logan's fanbase. It's the largest by far and Marvel doesn't want to alienate the straight men in the crowd. But the thing is, they're aging out. And younger generations of fans are more openly queer than we are, and definitely more than our parents were. This is going to be a non-issue. Especially when the new generations start running the asylum.

It'll take a long time, of course, and there'll be a lot of bullshit before then. But you can't put the genie back in the bottle. The idea is out there. And like Kitty, Rachel, Betsy, Bobby, Mystique and Destiny, Rictor and Shatterstar, EVENTUALLY we'll get to the point where Marvel admits what we all know. (And we knew for a while. The Throuple didn't come out of nowhere.)

Marvel's most famous and popular X-Men character is queer.

More than half of the Original X-Men, that earliest dream that creators never seem to be able to stop revisiting, are queer*.

The flag ship pairing of the X-Men involves a woman and a man who are queer*.

That's pretty awesome.

(*I know technically we're talking about an MMF throuple and it doesn't rule out Jean being straight, but let's be honest here. Jean's got more than enough suggestive interaction with Storm, Emma, Lorna and Wanda to make a strong enough case for bisexuality in her own right.)

[440mxs-wife]

The Country Doctor, Chapter 5: Going Home

Pairing: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x F!Reader (eventual). Other Characters are the usual suspects: Jim Kirk, Nyota Uhura, Spock, Christine Chapel, Scotty, Guinan. Jocelyn (Leonard's ex-wife, mentioned)

Word Count: 4955

Warnings: Medical stuff, Leonard slipping into "doctor mode", supportive townspeople, friends trying to get Leonard and the Reader to confront their feelings about each other, scheming CEO, escape from the hospital, Jim still being his usual, charming, mischievous self. Slow burn (I know) but it's going to heat up a bit here and going forward.

Summary: Fresh off of his divorce, Dr. McCoy receives word that he has inherited a 5,000-acre farm and home in Logan, Montana. Finally, he has an opportunity for a clean slate and to start his own clinic out west and leave his ex-wife behind. Along the way, he'll meet a cast of unique characters, each with a place in his new small-town life. But there could be trouble ahead in the form of a powerful CEO hell-bent on acquiring Leonard's property by any means necessary.

A/N: This idea was posted by @hailbop1701, with a specific list of plot points/dialog, which will appear in bold in this chapter. Still not sure how many parts there'll be, but I hope you like where I take the story. Also, I have intermixed AOS with NextGen to include additional characters.

A/N 2: If you’ve been tagged here, it’s because you’ve interacted one or more times on a McCoy story of mine, or we’re moots. Whether you like or reblog, I am eternally grateful for your support. If anyone else would like to be tagged on any future Karl Urban character postings, or would rather leave the Crazy Train, please let me know. Thank you, and enjoy the show!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Previously:

"If it's a war they want, I'll give them a war."

The incessant beeping from the machines at your bedside finally broke through the fog of your concussion. You tried to move your bandaged right arm, then noticed it was partially held down by hands tucked under a head full of dark hair. A gentle smile curved your lips as you recognized who was keeping vigil at your bedside.

As you carefully attempted to slide your hand out, Leonard stirred awake. His head slowly rose and he looked around before eventually his gaze landed on you. He leisurely blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness level of your room and flashed you a tender smile. "Hey, you're awake," he murmured.

"You noticed," you teased. "Where am I? How long have I been out? What's the prognosis, Doc?"

"One question at a time, darlin'," he chuckled. "You're at the hospital in Belgrade, where you've been out for the past day or so." He moved to sit on the edge of your bed and explained about your concussion, broken left arm, plus the second-degree burns. "Your prognosis is good, although you've got some recovery time ahead of you. And you can bet I'll be makin' sure you're takin' it easy. Doctor's orders," he winked.

"Whatever you say, Doc," you quipped, then dropped your gaze to your hands in your lap. "Thank you, Len. 'M real sorry I interrupted your fishin' trip with Jim. Have you been here this whole time?"

"Been here pretty much since Uhura told us you were brought in. And don't you worry none about the fishin' trip, sweetheart. That's not important. What is important is there were hardly any injuries, yours being the most serious. As you can see, though, we got you patched up, and you're safe now," he affirmed.

A knock on the door paused your conversation as you called out and granted entrance to your room. Jim carried a vase of flowers, while Uhura brought in a bag with the pharmacy's logo on it. When you asked her about it, she explained that Mr. Spock and Christine put in a few magazines, plus your Lemon Drops and some Butterscotch Disks.

"How nice of them to do that," you remarked, your eyes becoming glassy. You cleared your throat to regain your composure. "Oh! That reminds me. I'll need to reorder our clinic supplies from the pharmacy, since everything was in the back of the truck."

"Will you please relax? Let me contact Spock, and we'll get the supply order all sorted out. You just focus on getting enough rest so you can get out of here," Leonard replied.

"What're you talkin' about, I am rested," you protested weakly as you yawned, and your eyelids began to droop again.

Leonard gave you a barely-contained grin and rested a hand on your cheek. "Uh-huh, yeah, keep tellin' yourself that, sweetheart," he lightly chuckled.

When he stood up to leave, you grabbed his hand. "Please don't go," you pleaded softly.

"Close your eyes and rest, darlin', I won't be gone long. Jim and I are going back to the house and get cleaned up, then we'll come right back here, I promise. Need anything from home?" he asked.

"Mmm, maybe my toothbrush, please?" you mumbled.

Leonard bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You got it, sugar," he whispered. "Nyota's going to stay with you while we run home, okay?" You nodded slowly in response, your eyes already closed and halfway to dreamland. He met Uhura on the way out of your room. "Take care of our girl, hmm?"

"Of course, Dr. McCoy," she replied with a knowing grin. In response, he rolled his eyes with a smirk as he strode down the hall.

***

A short time later, the car wove its way along the highway returning to the McCoy family home. On the way back, the conversation was sporadic, with the silence filled by the music from the radio, playing at a low volume.

Mostly, they talked about how worried they were for you and how to make your recovery at home as easy as possible. They also speculated about who was behind the attack. "Tell you this much, Jim. I'm not going to stop until we find the sonofabitch who's behind all of this," Leonard growled.

"I'm right with you, Bones. You know you can count on me and just about everyone else in this town to help you," Jim vowed. Leonard nodded his head in thanks.

As they turned up the driveway, they noticed a few unfamiliar cars parked near the house. "Um, Bones, were you expecting company? 'Cause it looks like we have some people waiting for us," he gestured towards the figures rising from their seats on the porch.

Jim and Leonard slowly exited the car and cautiously approached the house. As they got closer, they were relieved to see that their visitors included Mr. Spock, Christine, and Scotty. Also in attendance was Guinan, whom they'd had yet to meet, until today.

"Good evening, Dr. McCoy. We hope you can forgive us for appearing on your doorstep without a prior invitation," Spock began. After everyone was again seated, he asked about your condition.

"She's fine, Nyota's staying with her at the hospital. They haven't mentioned when she'll be discharged, but I'll take a look at her chart the next time I see her. Once she gets home, I hope she'll do what's best and take plenty of time to rest. Not that I think she'll listen," Leonard commented, the others smiling in agreement.

"A fine, strong woman, that one," Scotty observed. "Have the authorities figured out who did this? I mean, why would anyone want to hurt a lass as kind and sweet as she is?"

"Indeed, Mr. Scott, but perhaps she was not the target," Spock suggested. "After all, it was Dr. McCoy's truck to which the explosive device was attached. The perpetrator would not have had any reason to believe that someone other than Dr. McCoy had driven the vehicle to town."

'Wait a minute, are you suggesting that I was the target??" McCoy exclaimed. "Why would anyone try to kill me?! I'm not important!"

Immediately, a chorus of protests arose from multiple directions. "I believe your statement is incorrect, Doctor," Spock remarked.

"Aww, Bones, you're the best out of all of us," Jim agreed. "We all know that gruff, cantankerous, sarcastic layer of yours is just a cover for your true compassionate nature. My theory is that NorthStar Corp had something to do with it. Especially, considering how relentless they've been about getting you to sell to them," he noted grimly.

"The lad has a point, Doctor. Whatever is on this land you have, they want it, and they've proven that they're willing to cross any line to get it. And they don't care who gets in the way," Scotty muttered.

Leonard thought for a moment about what his friends were saying, and realized there was more than a kernel of truth in their words. He was deep in thought, trying to decide how to best handle the situation, when he felt a hand on his arm. He jerked back in surprise, then eventually relaxed when he saw who it was.

"Hello, Dr. McCoy, my name is Guinan. It's nice to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances. I own a little place called the Tenth Avenue Pub, where I tend bar and I listen," she explained.

"Yeah, I've heard of your place. Been meaning to stop in, but haven't had the time," he replied.

"It's a nice place, even if I do say so myself. You should come by some time. By the way, I sure liked your Uncle Walter. He was one of my regulars, and I spent many a night listening to his stories. He had some good ones, ol' Walter," Guinan grinned as she gave him a sideways glance. "One night, he even shared with me some old records from a survey done on this land," she revealed.

Leonard leaned forward in his seat with his curiosity now obviously piqued. "Really? What did the reports say?"

"They revealed extensive veins of copper and silver all over your property, running beneath the earth's surface. Not only that, but he found some blue stones in a couple of areas that turned out to be sapphires. Valuable ones, too. I believe all of that is what NorthStar Corp is after, Dr. McCoy," Guinan finished.

Leonard's mouth dropped open in surprise at this revelation. His mind reeled with the possibilities of what he could accomplish as a doctor by having that kind of wealth. He also understood that there were some persistent people who would stop at nothing to acquire these resources. They could be among the ones who attacked you and were therefore dangerous. "All right, what do I do?" he asked.

"You need to contact a surveyor to get an updated analysis. I believe the company your uncle used is still in business, Blue Mountain Survey and Mining Corp. With them, you'll finally know what you've got going on under this land of yours. Then, you can decide what to do about it," Guinan advised.

"Good idea, thank you. I'm sorry, everyone, but Jim and I only stopped home long enough to clean up. Then we, or at least I, need to get back to the hospital. As I promised her," he murmured the last part, mostly to himself. 

Upon hearing Leonard's last comment, Spock convinced Guinan and the others to take their leave. He assured Dr. McCoy that everyone would take turns keeping an eye on the place while he was away, assisting in your recovery. Each of them shook his hand as they passed him on the way to their cars and offered their wishes for your swift return.

***

After everyone left, Jim and Leonard entered the house, each to take a shower, pack a few things, then return to the hospital. Leonard suggested that Jim could stay home if he wanted, instead of going back, but he wouldn't hear of it. He said you were his friend, and as such, he should be there to keep you company, even if it was just to sit there and tell dumb jokes. Leonard agreed and smiled at Jim's dedication to your friendship.

From his drawers, he pulled a few days' change of clothes, mainly T-shirts and jeans, plus sleeping attire. He also grabbed pajamas and a change of clothes for you, knowing you would need something to wear when you left the hospital. When he withdrew the clothes from your dresser, he brought them to his nose, closed his eyes, and deeply inhaled. He detected a hint of rose, mixed with something that was uniquely you.

When he started to stuff everything in his bag, he abruptly stopped and listened. The house was quiet, too quiet. He became aware that it was because you weren't there to fill it with your laughter, your questions, or your singing in the kitchen or shower. Suddenly, his heart ached in places he thought he'd completely closed off after the divorce. He realized that it was due to your absence and he sat down on the edge of the bed.

That was how Jim found him when he came in to check and see if his friend was ready to go. He took a seat next to Leonard, who was staring at the wall in front of him. "Hey, Bones, you okay? What's going on?" he asked.

Leonard took a deep breath before answering. "It's too quiet here without her here. Feels so empty, but she's everywhere I look. She's only been moved in with us for a few weeks, and I'm already so used to her being here. With what happened that day with my truck, I-I almost lost her, Jim. If she....if....if I....," he trailed off, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"You care about her, Bones. It's okay to finally admit you like her," Jim grinned, happy that his friend at last realized his feelings.

"Of course I like her, what's not to like?" Leonard countered.

"No, no, you like her, like really, really like her," Jim teased.

Leonard snorted. "What are we, in elementary school? Next thing you know, you'll be singing that damn song about us sitting in a tree and k-i-s-s-i-n-g or something," he grumbled.

"Well, I could do that, but I've been told I have a terrible singing voice," Jim smirked. "Seriously, you should tell her how you feel, then kiss her the very next time you have a chance." He continued despite his friend's glare. "You belong together and everyone knows it except the two of you," he added with a shrug.

"Everyone? Who, exactly, is 'everyone'?" he wondered.

"Let's see. Me, Uhura, Spock, Christine, Scotty--" Jim ticked the names off on his fingers, one by one, but was interrupted.

"Okay, okay, I get it," he sighed. "You know, I didn't think I ever wanted to be in another relationship, not after what I went through with Jocelyn and the divorce. As you noted earlier, I'm grumpy, cantankerous, and what else did you say? Oh, yeah. Sarcastic. Usually all of that keeps women away, but not my girl. Noooo, she must see me as a challenge, one she's not willing to back down from," he finished with a wry grin.

"You don't really want your girl to back down, though, do you?" Jim asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Nope," McCoy answered, a mischievous smile crossing his face as he finished packing his bag.

***

Boston, Massachusetts - Headquarters for NorthStar Corp, CEO's office

Miles Cooper was seething. First, Travis Myers failed to produce results through a contract signed by Dr. McCoy over his land. He was fired, which sent him on a downward spiral, and out of control. As part of some misguided revenge for her tanking the deal with McCoy, Travis decided to set his ex-girlfriend's apartment on fire. Unfortunately, the blaze got out of control and spread to the other units. The building was declared a total loss and displaced around 15 tenants, including some with children.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for the authorities to catch up to Travis and charge him with First-Degree Arson. Such a charge carried a sentence up to a maximum of 20 years in prison, if convicted. And, with the newly-discovered security camera footage, conviction appeared highly likely to occur. What an idiot, he muttered to himself.

Second, the explosive that his operative attached to the truck didn't harm Dr. McCoy in any way, because he was nowhere near it when it was destroyed. It was the perfect plan on paper, yet the execution of it epically failed, since it missed his intended target. In fact, you were the one in the hospital, recovering from injuries, which only seemed to strengthen Dr. McCoy's resolve. I am surrounded by incompetence, he inwardly grumbled.

A tentative knock on his door broke him out of the silent rant going through his head. "What?!?" he barked. His assistant, Connor Morris, pushed open the door and strode up to Cooper's desk to hand over a piece of paper, his boss' patience already thin. What about this document could possibly be important enough to warrant an interruption?

As Cooper read through the document, he became more frustrated as he learned that Dr. McCoy had called for a new survey of his land. He'd already secured a team attached to a mining company, further complicating an already tense situation. Dammit. If McCoy ever discovers what he's inherited, he'll never sell to NorthStar Corp. I've got to do something and do it fast, Cooper thought.

His eyes left the paper to address his assistant. "Call an emergency board meeting. Tell them we have a situation that needs handled at once. Attendance is mandatory," he ground out. Connor nodded and swiftly exited the office to begin making the necessary phone calls.

Maybe I've been going about this all wrong. So far, blunt force hasn't worked, what with the apartment fire and blowing up McCoy's truck. No, perhaps the matter calls for a softer touch. He knew about McCoy's ex-wife, who was currently married to a real-estate developer. She was tired of the long hours and less than first-class lifestyle as the wife of a doctor. So, she traded in a doctor for a real-estate mogul and ascended a few rungs on the social ladder.

When Dr. McCoy moved to Montana, he left her and her now-husband in his rear-view mirror. I think it's about time for a reunion, Cooper smiled to himself as a plan formulated in his mind. Considering the wealth potential for the McCoy land, he anticipated Jocelyn's greed would win out and bring her to Montana. With the board members' gluttony, they would offer little to no resistance for this course of action. Satisfied with his solution, Cooper leaned back in his chair and rested his steepled index fingers against his lips, an evil grin snaking across his face.

***

Uhura quietly turned the page on the magazine she was reading while you slept. She was still trying to come to grips with how close she came to losing you, her best friend. It was by sheer luck that you survived, considering your injuries. It would be a long road to recovery, but she was sure you were strong enough to get through it. Especially with Dr. McCoy on your side, every step of the way, she grinned to herself.

When will these two wise up and admit how they feel about each other? she wondered. It was a conversation she'd had many times with Jim, who was just as frustrated as she was. Only his situation was worse, because he had to live under the same roof with you and Leonard pining for each other. Uhura shook her head in silent amusement, wishing her two friends could see for themselves what was already obvious to everyone who knew them.

"Hey, stranger," you murmured, your eyelids fluttering open. "I see you drew the short straw, huh?"

Uhura chuckled softly. "Nah, I don't mind the quiet, as long as that means you're getting the rest you need after what you've been through," she affirmed, squeezing your hand. "Plus, it gives me time to think about....stuff."

"Oh really?" you returned with an arched eyebrow. "What 'stuff' are you thinking about?"

"About you and Dr. McCoy," she replied simply.

"What about Dr. McCoy and me? We're just friends, Nyota," you assured her.

She rolled her eyes at your assertion. "My dear, sweet friend, when are you going to admit that there is more going on between you than 'just friends'? I've seen the way you look at each other, and there are 'more than friendly' glances passing between you," she pointed out, grabbing your hands. "He looks at you like you're the only woman in the world. You look at him like he hung the stars and the moon, just for you."

Your eyes widened in surprise and bit of panic. Does Leonard know? Oh god, am I that obvious? you thought. "I mean....it feels like we've gotten closer since I've been living at his house, but....I'm sure it's all in my imagination," you declared hastily as you pulled your hands away.

Uhura dropped her head into her hands and groaned loudly in frustration. Before she had a chance to comment any further, the subject of the conversation strode through the door. In his hands, he held a bouquet of yellow tulips, gardenias, and pink roses in a decorative crystal vase. "Just friends, huh?" Uhura snickered.

"Quiet," you hissed, then beamed a smile at Leonard. "You're back! And you look refreshed," you commented.

He returned your smile as he placed the flowers on the table near your bed. "Amazing how a little soap and some hot water can make a man feel like himself again," he replied, then reached for your chart.

Before his fingers could grasp it, a man named Dr. Bennett strode into the room. He wasn't the same doctor as had been treating you since you arrived, which raised your suspicions. You tried to keep your expression neutral as Dr. Bennett reviewed your vital signs, inspected your injuries, and asked about your pain level. "You seem to be healing well, no complications so far. Any questions?" he wondered.

"Um, well, just one: when can I go home?" you asked.

Dr. Bennett heaved a deep sigh and appeared reluctant to give you an exact number of days. The more you pressed him about leaving, the more reasons he came up with to keep you. Nothing you said was convincing enough to get him to agree to release you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Leonard's level of suspicion and annoyance also rise. His eyes darkened and his fists were clenched at his sides as he tried to maintain his composure. You reached over and as soon as you touched his hand, it relaxed and he intertwined his fingers with yours. Fortunately, Dr. Bennett's phone rang and informed him that his assistance was needed elsewhere in the hospital. He gave you one last glance before heading out the door.

"I don't know what that guy's problem is, but he's up to something. I read your chart, and there's no reason for you to stay here any longer," Leonard muttered. "We're going to sneak you out of here, don't you worry," he promised and squeezed your hand.

"Are you sure something's going on? Maybe he's just being overly cautious or--" you started.

"He may be a 'doctor', but he could have a PhD in Ornithology, for all we know. That doesn't make him qualified to be your physician, so we're gettin' you out," he replied with determination.

"I'm all for going home, Len. However, you have your own stuff to deal with, I don't want to add to it," you finished in a small voice.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress and gazed fondly at you. His right hand found your cheek and his thumb caressed your skin. "Listen. For me, taking care of you is not some duty or obligation. You've become an important piece in my life, and I'll do whatever is needed to keep it that way," he declared.

Your right hand reached up to cover his and as you ran your thumb over the back of it, you sent him a shy smile. "All right. Let's get out of here."

***

"Okay, we don't have much time," Jim whispered. "I saw a laundry area down the hall. Be right back." Within a few minutes, he had returned with a set of scrubs, which he basically threw at Leonard and gestured towards your in-room bathroom. "Go change, we'll wait out here for you."

Leonard stood stunned for a moment but broke out of his haze when Jim made a shooing motion with his hands. He reappeared a few minutes later after he had exchanged his regular clothes for scrubs. Jim handed him a doctor's long, white coat with the hospital's name embroidered on it to complete the illusion.

"Now we're going to get you unhooked from everything, then Uhura is going to help you get dressed. We'll leave the I.V. in for now, but disconnect you from the fluid bag. That way we won't alert the staff or anything," he explained.

"You're the doc, Doc," you sighed. Leonard caught your smaller hand in one of his larger ones, his thumb gently rubbing circles on the back of it, then returned to his duties. He maintained eye contact with you while he unscrewed the connection between the I.V. port and the bag of solution hanging from the pole. When he was done, he tenderly kissed the back of your hand and winked as he released it.

"While Uhura helps you get changed into regular clothes, Jim and I will try and hunt down a wheelchair to take you out in. You still feelin' okay? How's your pain level?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'm fine, Len, just anxious to get home and sleep in my own bed," you assured him.

As soon as he left, you removed your finger from the pulse oximeter and as quickly as your injuries would allow, you hurried into the bathroom. An alarm sounded and a nurse rushed into your room to make sure you hadn't fallen or were in any kind of distress. She called your name and when she heard you answer from behind the closed door, she turned off the alarm. "Let me know when you're back in bed and I'll hook everything back up, okay?"

You gave a noncommittal grunt in response and you were relieved when you heard her retreating footsteps. "That was close," you muttered. "Hand me my shirt, please?" She passed you the T-shirt that Leonard had packed for you, which looked very much like one of his. Uhura noticed as well and smirked as she helped you balance enough to pull on your jeans. You finished sliding your feet into your shoes at the moment Jim returned, also dressed in scrubs.

"Your chariot awaits, milady," he grinned with a deep bow. With a playful roll of your eyes, you sat down and allowed Jim to position your feet on the pads of the wheelchair. He handed you a baseball cap and told you to keep your head down until you were safely in the car. Once you were settled, Jim grabbed the keys and left the room so he could drive the car up to the doors.

Leonard played the part of your physician, pushing your chair at a brisk but not overly noticeable pace. Uhura walked ahead of you, opening doors and checking around the corners, while you drew ever closer to the exit. You closed your eyes and crossed your fingers that you wouldn't draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves in your escape.

The three of you reached the sliding doors at the exact moment that Jim pulled into the pick-up lane to meet you. A security guard started to take an interest in you as you crossed the threshold, which increased your anxiety level. But by the time he had caught up, you, Leonard, and Uhura were already in the car and leaving the hospital's grounds.

What you didn't know was that this particular guard was stationed at the hospital to keep an eye on you. He wasn't looking forward to the call he had to make, but he had a duty to his employer to keep him informed. "Yeah, Bennett? Better tell Cooper that she's escaped....yeah, I'm sure! Just saw her climb into a car with McCoy and her other two friends." The man grimaced as the call disconnected.

***

The next few weeks were spent getting used to a new routine of post-hospital care. During the first couple of weeks, Leonard insisted that you rest and recover from your injuries. You initially protested, leading to a few verbal clashes with Leonard. Eventually, his persistence paid off, because you decided to let yourself be taken care of. You spent your days engaging in more relaxing activities, such as reading, plus there was a large library of movies to choose from.

In the quiet afternoons, Mimzy stretched out in the puddles of sunlight on the floor, while your thoughts frequently drifted to Leonard. What was he doing, how busy was the clinic that day, has he eaten lunch or drank any water, you wondered. Does he miss me? You shook your head at that last question as ridiculous and mentally scolded yourself. Leonard McCoy did not have romantic feelings for you, even though you had them for him.

Since you'd met him, Leonard has held a special place in your heart. He may be gruff, sarcastic, and a bit set in his ways, but you saw beneath the surface. In your eyes, he had a kind, warm heart, a sharp wit, and was caring and sweet, especially with kids. And there was no question of how handsome and charismatic he was, which anyone could see. You'd fallen in love with all of it, all of him.

A similar mental conversation was occurring in Leonard's mind about you. What is she doing, is she in any pain, should I check and see if she needs anything, he pondered. Does she miss me? He scoffed at that last notion and returned his attention to the patient currently in his care. You had better things to do with your day than bother thinking about him. There was no way you had feelings of any kind other than friendship for him.

The minute you stepped out of your car on the day he met you, he was intrigued. To him, you were smart, funny, and kind, frequently putting the needs of others ahead of your own. When your apartment building burned down, he didn't hesitate to offer you a place to stay. Still, you were concerned that you were somehow inconveniencing him. Now, he couldn't imagine his house or his life any other way than with you in it. Nor did he want to.

Perhaps Jim was right, and he should tell you how he feels. After all, you did kiss him before he took off on that damned fishing trip, that had to mean something, right? He recalled that Jocelyn wasn't as free with her affections towards him as you seemed to be. It was one of the contributing factors in why the marriage ended, because he stopped feeling that connection to her.

On the other hand, you didn't hesitate when it came to physical expression. You took his hand, or to put yours on his shoulder or arm as you walked by him without a second thought. The warmth of your touch lingered long after you'd left his side, leaving him wishing for your return. And more than once he'd caught you staring at him, only for you to quickly look away, a sheepish smile on your face. Maybe...., he thought to himself, a smile spreading across his face as he resolved to explore this idea further and see where it would lead.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @hailbop1701 @anna-phora @spacedancer1701 @lassie-bird @phoenixisred @wayward-dreamer @erindiggory @strangesgirls @genevablog26 @dumpsterhippie @lokis-deares @medicatemedrmccoy @rooweighton @mamamercurymist @d-doki-doki @malmeansbad @ghosttrekkie @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @bellestalesoffiction @silversword7000 @maximumtacoshark @xspacedemonx @ilachoasgrem @imherefordeanandbones @jax-the-oregonian @madame-slayer

[andrevalias]

WIP Wednesday

Bless @sugarysins for the tag. Check out their WIP and leave it some love!

C.W: blood and vampirism

Before I dive into my most recent WIP that has my heart in a vice-like grip (trust me, this post is IN-DEPTH because of it), I have provided some contextual reading + extras (inspo music). Then after the WIP, there'll be further commentary + honorary tag/mentions at the end.

Context

Bloodies-His-Face and Stops-His-Heart are my main TES (2nd Era) OCs, and they are both ride-or-die for one another. They first meet in the Kvatch Arena, where Bloodies is participating in exhibition matches while Stops is masquerading as a janitor named Xahlii. By accident, Bloodies witnesses Stops commit a murder and the two share a tense moment together.

Fast forward to 2E 583. The two Argonians have been dating ever since then, and Stops joins Bloodies when he forms the Order of the Sacred Ashes. They join the Guild Invasion of Coldharbour, and eventually they end up in the Orchard. Stops is unfortunately caught and turned, leading to Bloodies having to decide between his oath as an Ashen Knight and his love.

After returning from Coldharbour, Bloodies reassures his love and swears to stay by Stops' side.

Music

The music that first sparked the idea, and the music I listened to on repeat while writing. If you want the "official Stops-His-Heart playlist", just search "Stops-His-Heart" on Spotify and go wild...

WIP + Additionals below the cut.

Forever

Stops awoke with a jolt, eyes wide and breath shuddering.

‘What is it, my love…?’ Bloodies whispered as he curled an arm over Stops’ chest to bring him back against the bed. ‘You were only asleep for an hour…’

‘I had a terrible dream…’ Stops whispered as he held onto his lover’s arm.

Bloodies leaned in and kissed his cheek. ‘Tell me what happened.’

‘We were back in that cave near Kvatch, when you held me as the sun set beyond the Colovian horizon, and you told me that you weren’t going anywhere,’ Stops began.

‘And I meant it,’ Bloodies added with another gentle kiss.

Stops shook his head, ‘I know you did, and I tried to hold onto that moment for as long as you held me, but…’ He shivered in Bloodies’ grasp and then spoke softly as though raising his voice might bring his worst fears true. ‘But suddenly, you said goodbye, and when I opened my eyes I was alone in the dark of night forever more.’

 ‘I’m here with you now, my love.’

Hearing his love’s words should have brought Stops comfort, but they only weighed on him. He remembered something, as he let his head rest on the silken pillow.

‘I once knew a vampire named Lenore,’ Stops spoke again, ‘we became best friends, and I’d visit her castle often. She’d teach me about vampiric etiquette and then she’d tell me all the gossip she’d heard about the court of Wayrest.’

Stops permitted himself a small giggle as he ran a hand over Bloodies’ scaled arm. Bloodies returned the favour by nuzzling into the back of his neck.

‘Then, one morning, after staying the night at her castle,’ Stops continued, his voice dropping once more, ‘I awoke to her soothing voice wishing me well. Before I knew it, I saw the castle door open. I watched Lenore step out onto the battlements, her dark silhouette illuminated by the dawn for the barest moment. And then she was gone.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ Bloodies asked quietly.

Stops closed his eyes, trying to picture the final sunlit smile on Lenore’s face. ‘I was confused for a long time as to why she did that. I never understood that with her long life, Lenore carried a terrible loneliness,’ Stops sighed, ‘For a thousand years, I haven’t felt the sun on my scales. These days, I wonder if it is time for me to greet the dawn like Lenore did… Like an old friend.’

There was a silence, as though Bloodies did not know what to say, before he held Stops closer. Stops’ grip on his lover’s muscular arm tightened.

‘Why couldn’t you stay?’ he suddenly whispered through trembling lips.

Another pause. ‘I’m still here.’

‘I had to watch emperors die, Dagon’s return, the rise of the Dominion, the fall of the Empire, and the return of the dragons…’

Flashes of recent history came to mind as Stops uttered each one. The day the Septims died, Mehrunes Dagon walking the earth, the horrors of the Great War, and the land burning as winged overlords soared the skies.

‘I’m right here with you, my love…’ Bloodies started to whisper.

‘I had to witness it all alone.’

The sentence escaped Stops’ lips louder than he’d meant it to. It shattered the silence that lingered between the two of them, and for what felt like an eternity Stops tried to stifle his sobbing as the hand at his neck that felt so real quickly became a distant memory. He dared not turn around, because he didn’t want to confront reality. But he knew deep down, more than anything, he wanted to see his beloved again.

‘Let me see your eyes, my love…’ Bloodies asked.

Stops swallowed his sadness before he turned slowly. He could see Bloodies was fading now, the magicka dissipating over his translucent form. Seeing it broke Stops’ stilled heart all over again, and he started to cry. But Bloodies only smiled and gazed upon Stops as he held a hand tenderly to his cheek. Stops clutched at the false warmth of the illusory touch.

‘I’ll be here with you, every step of the way,’ Bloodies said, ‘I promise.’

‘Forever…?’ Stops choked.

Bloodies nodded and hugged his beloved one last time. ‘Forever.’

It was a bitter comfort to feel the last traces of false warmth radiate over him and Stops laid there for a long time with his arms clutched around himself. He sobbed quietly as he curled up, still holding himself the way Bloodies once did. When he finally stopped crying, Stops clutched tightly the amulet of Akatosh in his hand as he stared at the shuttered window. The cracks of the shutters shone with the light of dawn. He wondered once more if he would finally open the window and look upon the sunrise one last time.

Additionals

Normally I stay within TES 2E for my writing. Though I have a great love for Oblivion and Skyrim as games that formed my childhood, ESO for some reason gave a greater depth and scale of freedom to exploring Tamriel than I had seen before which made me want to engage with it. I also strongly dislike to write characters who hold the mantle of HoK/Last Dragonborn/Vestige, so you'll only ever see me write OCs who fit into the world and live through all its glories and all its horrors.

Recently I had the idea to write for Stops-His-Heart- who woefully is second to Bloodies in terms of how much I actually explore his character- living in the 4th Era. I wanted to explore the flip side of eternal life, after thinking of when he asked Bloodies to share his curse, and Bloodies declined.

I've started writing the WIP from the end (mostly because I had just got out of the shower and NEEDED to get it down), but I want to eventually expand on it by having Stops and "Bloodies" live a full day together. I already see Stops returning from a hunt/finding blood and a scene where the two sit together at the dinner table and chatting over a meal.

Also: For those of you who have watched Castlevania and pick up the reference, that is indeed yet another inspiration I've drawn from while writing...

ANYWAY, thank you for your patience in listening to my TED Talk ramble. Of course, if you have questions or feedback, I wholly welcome it!

Tags

Tagging (purely because I adore you and hope you enjoyed): @crynwr-drwg @egretorchids @thieves-oasis @speepspoop @progmetol @skyrim-crossing (P.S: Hold me accountable)

[vampiremeerkat]

Assuming that the Lorax is not a figment of the Once-ler’s imagination but a real creature, how would he feel about his enemy’s eventual death? Would he feel relief? Would he grieve the potential of the relationship they could’ve had if the Once-ler hadn’t been a selfish greedy asshole?

For everyone with the 21st century "Too long, don't care" lifestyle: Once-ler was his enemy, but also the only human he came to know on a personal level. He'd feel many conflicting things, but not relief. For everyone who likes LENGTH and GIRTH: "Feel about his enemy's eventual death", as in, generally speaking, at any given day?

Lorax never thought about the reality that is Once-ler's mortality. His death is unlikely to fix matters, since empires tend to come with successors and it's mostly Once-ler's "Regular Joe"-customers and fans who are the problem. If they stopped buying, Once-ler would've fallen. Besides that, Lorax is a creature that represents life. He accepts that death and sickness are facts of life, but they don't bring him joy. If he needs someone or something to die in order for his problems to disappear, he'd feel like a tremendous failure.

If you're talking about the scene where Lorax visits him at his deathbed, you could say most of every emotion washes over him during their talk.

The Lorax has to show care to all animals and plants, but has never established a deep emotional connection with a living creature like one does with a friend, family member, or lover. He'll call any animal his friend by default, but they're not his "friend". He has an instinctual drive to only do what he was made to do -guard Truffula- and doesn't want to engage or think about Earthly behaviours like making friends, starting a family, building a home, eating food, all that stuff. The idea behind it is that doing so will take food or a social connection away from a creature that actually needs it to survive, but also, there's nothing inside of him that wants or needs it. He doesn't even get hungry.

But, meeting The Once-ler challenged that drive. Lorax spent alot of time with him and taught him about the land's flora and fauna, which only helped Once-ler kill and exploit everything easier, but in the context of what we're talking about, it resulted in Lorax feeling unprofessionally close and responsible for him. It made him a worse guardian than he could've been.

Once-ler is alot of firsts: Truffula's first human resident and Lorax' first real social connection. Since Once-ler was a child when they met, Lorax chose not to return to the skies upon learning he was alone and more or less silenced his instincts by telling himself he wanted to confirm if it was safe to let a human stay in Truffula. Having that said, though, I guess it's also fair to argue Lorax doesn't have "instincts", just a very strong sense of duty and love for Truffula. Either way, Truffula's destruction was a tremendous betrayal, but one Lorax blames himself for at the end of the day.

Once-ler's death grieves him, but at the same time, he feels guilty to be grieving him, but at the same time, he knows his past set him up to fail, but at the same time, he believes his cunningness and awareness are signs of intelligence and should've allowed him to beat his own madness, but at the same time, he knows a bad upbringing can't be ignored by merely wanting it, but at the same time, his animal friends died a horrifying death because of him, but at the same time, Once-ler was also someone a spectator would call his friend, but at the same time, his biggest enemy, but at the same time, he thinks it's inappropriate to spend time condemning a dying man, but at the same time, believes Once-ler should take responsibility.

Relief comes when Once-ler plants that seed at the end of the story. Once-ler did this for no other reason but his love for the orange Shih Tzu, since he doesn't care about Truffula, doesn't think there'll be an afterlife reward for him, nor did Lorax say anything to motivate him to drag his practically deceased body down a flight of stairs to do this.

The dead won't be brought back by Once-ler's late gesture, but him beating the odds pleases The Lorax as much as it saddens him. It's not the lost potential of what their relationship could've been he cares about, but the potential of what Once-ler could've been. He never wanted/planned to have a relationship of any kind with him, let alone involve himself with a human, he detests those, and in a perfect world, Once-ler would've grown up a functional, kind man who never infiltrated Truffula at all, and thus, never met The Lorax.

Lorax knows it'll only hurt him if he befriends mortal creatures, since they will die on him eventually. Seeing Once-ler at his end was an uncomfortable experience for him.

[velvet-vox]

(This post is wrong as all hell. Please, only read the notes and reblogs of this mess.)

The Confession Discourse.

(Imagine lacking so much time and will that you take almost two months to answer one single rebuttal)

This post is simultaneously a follow up to my previous confession on @md-confessions and a response to @oldmanjenkins985 's confession on that same ask blog.

Originally, I wanted this whole argument to be a @md-confessions blog's exclusive thing, but I was too slow, and the confession box was closed, so now, after delaying it for weeks, I've finally decided to make my response to the whole thing, while also keeping some unsaid stuff for myself for when I'll eventually finish writing my giant critique of Doll, who at this point I'm not sure if I want to publish before episode 8 or not. You can find the links to all of the confessions that I'm talking about right above, in the coloured words.

I think that the best way to start this response is by going through @oldmanjenkins985 's confession and rebutting each and every point with my opinion, then I'll start speaking more generally on the whole subject matter while providing the reasons that drove me to make that original confession.

Read and Rebuttal.

"So, basically the way you talk about rewriting the story is that you just want an almost completely different story than the one we got. Getting rid of the school elements? Say goodbye to episode 3 and 4. 2 can still happen but there's some stuff that needs to be cut and stuff to fill those gaps."

Alright, so, to be perfectly clear, I wasn't saying that I wanted an entirely different story than the one we got. Originally, while making that confession, I was under the assumption that it was always Liam's intention to eventually escalate the story to "end of the universe" proportions, and that the reason why he decided to rush so much of the plot was to get to that aforementioned conflict with the Absolute Solver. Therefore, my suggestion was that, since Vickers seemed more interested in the apocalyptic aspects of his story and didn't have the time or resources to flesh out anything else, he should have sacrificed the whole school setting earlier on (since, despite how much I like it, it was kind of useless after the pilot, where it set up Uzi's character and flaws. It was semi useful in ep 2 and 3 to also set up Doll's character, but I'm currently advocating her erasure, so those instances don't matter to our argument) and just went straight to the things that he actually wanted to tell.

However, as I've learned more about the production history of this show, I no longer believe that to be the case; the Absolute Solver was always a planned thing, but not in the way it is currently iterated; I'm sure Liam rewrote the entire plot so many times, that, whatever he had in mind at the beginning, it's so wildly different from the final product that it might as well be a completely different show.

The school elements were probably very relevant to the first few drafts, but in the final take, they are completely disregardable, and I know that because the show itself quickly disregards a lot of those elements in episode 4, so this isn't even an idea I came up with in my spare time, Murder Drones itself instilled this notion in my head to begin with.

"but 3 and 4 not happening AT ALL like they do, that would have serious ripple effects."

Duh, that's what happens when you change a part of your story, it usually changes your whole story, even if in minor ways.

My main goal here was to make the story of Murder Drones simpler so that it better sticks to the eight 20 minutes long episodes.

In his current form, the story of Murder Drones is too big to be fleshed out in an eight-episode season, we aren't even sure if there'll be a season 2, and even if there was, season 1 is so crammed already that episodes 6, 7, and most likely 8 feel like the ending of a second season to me; that's just how crazy the pacing is.

"And episode 5/6 would probably go down differently as well since Doll wouldn't be there to steal the keybug."

Have you ever wondered why Doll didn't steal the keybug back in episode 4 when Uzi found it in that abandoned warehouse? Neither N nor V were there to help Uzi in case Doll decided to do the same thing that she did to Cyn in episode 6; Doll didn't even need to go straight into the Cabin Fever's labs (even if that's exactly what she ended up doing in ep 6), she could have just simply disappeared into the woods; the main gang doesn't know where her hideout is, therefore, she could have just stalled with the keybug until she figured out a trap or a setup (the one thing she has been consistently excelling at) to get rid of the trio (at least temporarily) and enter Cabin Fever labs to find what she was looking for.

So, why doesn't she do it? Well, it's simple: it's because she doesn't know what the keybug does at this point of the story.

Doll only learns about the secrets hiding down in the elevator shaft off camera through Tessa, who then engages her to steal the keybug from Uzi in episode 5.

Therefore, excluding the fact that yes, episode 2 through 6 would play out differently, Doll, in regards to her choice to steal the bug, it's only a tool for Cyn; and while this wouldn't feel like it if the show was better paced, due to the fact that our protagonists immediately teleport to the labs, and the way her arc plays out in the next two episodes, she also feels like a tool for the plot as well.

Again, all of this would have been perfectly fine with better pacing or more spotlight on Doll as a character, but that wasn't the case, so moving on:

"And Doll just being a plot device and not a character? Don't even get me started on that."

She is a character and a plot device, a lot of fictional characters are simultaneously plot devices, especially protagonists and antagonists, the trick stems in the writer's ability of masking the second component and, ideally, even the first.

Storytelling is all about manipulation; how capable you are to make the audience buy the events being told even if they are completely fake.

Some characters achieve this narrative illusion almost perfectly, while others like Doll are harder to pass by if their writing doesn't hold up.

You can fault me for my excessive scrutiny, but I'm going to explain how I got to this point at the end of the rebuttal.

"She's one of the most tragic and well written characters of the show and I LOVE her.

If it was just for that, I love her as well, but I don't find her to be one of the most well written characters in the show, far from it; I actually consider her to be a hot writing mess, though that doesn't stop me from thinking about her basically every single day.

Do I find her to be one of the most tragic characters in the show? Objectively speaking, no. A lot of other characters had it worse than her, Alice and Beau are technically more tragic characters than Doll, as they never had any other choice at every single turn. V had it worse, N had it worse, Cyn had it worse, Tessa had it worse, heck, you can easily make the argument that J of all people had it worse than Doll. By comparison, if you lack the emotional intelligence to understand that, just because one person's trauma is worse than someone else's it doesn't mean that the other person's trauma doesn't matter, as all life scarring experiences affect us in an indiscernible way, that invalidates certain statements such as "well that person clearly had it worse than you, yet you became a sh####er person than them, so your trauma doesn't matter because you could have just simply overcame it like that one person did, but you didn't because you were always a jerk", Doll just looks like a giant a#####e.

Is her tragedy the one that affected me the most? (Looks back at the several months of emotional damage preceding and succeeding her death) Yes.

I feel like that's partially due to how much I personally relate to Doll, but even if I am fully willing to admit that V's entire life story is technically far more sad than Doll's, I just have way more traits in common with Doll, plus it also helps the fact that Doll (to me) is the most down to earth character in the entire cast. Her serious demeanor may alienate her from the show's tone, but it helps her to be more likable to me, as she, more than any other character, feels like a real world person that reacts accordingly to all of the nonsense and murder happening around her. We don't get enough of the human characters for me to feel like: "Yeah, this guy is definitely me if I was in Murder Drones, I would do the same things and react in the same way to all the horrors happening around me". I like Uzi's and Tessa's quirkiness, and I could be considered a weird-boy even if I never was ostracized in school or emotionally neglected by my parents, but I don't personally relate to their antics and their comedic reactions to the horror moments pale in comparison to Doll's genuine reactions to pretty much anything. Also, while all Murder Drones fans can claim to share some traits with N and V, none of them can really say that they personally relate to being a disposable slave; therefore points to Doll being the most grounded Murder Drones character.

So yeah, Doll is a very tragic antagonist, but I am a Wakfu fan, thus I know the secret ingredients behind a truly magnificent sympathetic villain, and I can say that Doll lacks a lot of the pieces that make someone like Nox such a heart breaking rollercoaster of emotions. Of course, I wouldn't expect you to know what I'm talking about since Wakfu is a pretty obscure franchise, I'm only mentioning it for propaganda reasons, but nonetheless, I'm pretty confident in saying that I know what differentiates a good sympathetic villain from a truly great one; Doll has a lot of pieces of the latter but she ends up falling into the former due to various reasons, most noticeable reason of all being that she never feels like the protagonist of her own story, just a side character that refused to remain as such.

Loving her doesn't stop me from thinking about her critically. Soon we are going to discuss what her place in the narrative is and why it doesn't work in the way it was intended to.

"Her flaws especially."

I would really like to open up a tangent here, but I feel like that's a discussion for another day; so sure, you love her flaws, go on.

"She's very much a mirror to Uzi. Both had their parents (or parent in Uzi's case) get killed by disassembly drones, both are infected with the Solver, and both want to figure out what the hell it is and how to fix themselves. The difference between the two, is that Doll SAW V rip her parents apart while laughing."

There are way more differences than that, but I'm sure you already knew that, sorry for being incapable to pick up on sarcasm.

"Uzi was likely only a baby when Nori died, and even if she wasn't she didn't personally see her die."

I have nothing to say here, but I thought that it would be better to separate this sentence from the next one, just to narrow down the focus.

"That was what let her get over her grudge, because she had a grudge against a concept, while Doll had a grudge against a person."

This sentence doesn't make any sense to me. People can absolutely have a grudge against a concept, and Doll's hatred for the Disassembly Drones being targeted rather than vague like Uzi's hatred is (even if Uzi doesn't hate the Disassembly Drones, though I'm not sure what that scene with Uzi in episode 2 "The humans sent you without a communication relay and reformatted your memories to soup. Covering their tracks means that they are past negotiating. Not like they tried negotiating with my mum" was supposed to mean. Uzi in general is such a strange character to me, weird-girl my a##, Uzi stans, your daughter is straight up an enigma) it's not what allowed one to get over their grudge compared to the other.

One example of this is Bradford Buzzard from the DuckTales remake: he was traumatised as a kid by her strict grandma, who forced him to go on dangerous adventures with her, so when he grew up started hating the entire concept of adventures, and sought for a way to eliminate all unpredictable elements from the world and his life. This is only one example but you get the idea.

To be fair, you did mention the fact that you were tired when you started writing this, so I'm pretty sure that you weren't reflecting carefully when you wrote this part, plus once a confession is sent you can't correct it anymore, as such, I believe you would have probably changed this sentence if you taught about it a little longer. Therefore, I'll just let this one slide.

"Doll continuously decides to work by herself as a result, unable to overcome her hatred for V (very understandably mind you)."

Absolutely, screw all those people who said that Doll was being unreasonable by not joining sides with Uzi, 90% of all normal human beings wouldn't want to stay anywhere close to their parents murderer, especially Doll, who for some reason is the most realistic member of the cast, even if she isn't human. Plus, if you believe the theory that Doll's parents were killed during the pilot (there are some plot holes in the timeline of events for both this theory and the "child Doll saw her parents die" theory, but that's something for another day), then it's technically Uzi the one who created her rival, which would contradict the "Doll is completely consumed by revenge" allegations, as Doll weirdly enough sympathizes with Uzi and *insert here a giant analysis of Lizzie's line in Episode 3 "Dude, no one is gonna notice she is missing. Just do your thing, and I'll let in V" and how many questions it raises* despite her knowing that she was the one to let in her parents killer.

But ok, this is completely unrelated, let's move on.

"This ultimately ends up getting her killed because she alone could not take on the Solver, a threat we time and time again have seen to only be stoppable when people work together against it. When Uzi and N work together in ep 2, Doll protecting Lizzy in the same episode, in ep 4 when N helps Uzi regain control, in ep 7 when Nori and N fight back against possessed Uzi. Then think about all the times it succeeded. In ep 5 at the Gala it had Tessa alone, in ep 7 it had N and Uzi on the ropes when they were alone, in ep 4 when Uzi was on a rampage and V was trying to kill her rather than help her."

Uh uhm.

"Doll's death doesn't ruin her character, it IS her character (might be overexaggerating there but I really liked that sentence). Tragedy and bad choices stemming from reasonable thinking. A result of her going alone, trusting nobody."

I don't know what to say here.

At first I was like "Ehhhhhhhhh, you are kinda right but not in a positive way" but then I realised that there are a lot of right and wrong things in this paragraph, and in order to pick them apart I would have to go through a massive side tangent that would take focus away from the rest of the confession, as such, I'm just going to leave this as it is and maybe I will address it in a future post.

"Also, we don't even know that she's dead! Yes, it's likely she is, but Cyn only swallowed her core. It's possible it gets thrown up in ep 8 and she gets to continue living."

We'll see, but if I was the one who killed Doll in such a dramatic and gruesome way I wouldn't have her revived right away in the following episode, where there are already a lot of ongoing plot lines that need to be tied up; nor would I do this if I want for the stakes to remain high.

Sorry for bumming down your optimism, but I really struggle to see how Doll could possibly bounce back up when she was just brutally executed in the most anticlimactic way possible.

"Don't judge her before the season is done."

I will judge Doll based on what's already present in the episodes because I have very valid reasons to believe that her arc was being made up as the story went on; planner and pantsie are two different terms used to identify the writing style of a writer, the former is for writers who spend time planning out the various aspects of their stories before releasing them, the latter is for writers who make up their story as they go along; both writing styles have their advantages and disadvantages, and writers can actually adoperate both simultaneously if they need to, and that's what Liam Vickers did: he planned out a lot of aspects of his series (at least in the final rewrite), like the Tessa reveal and the Solver mystery, and made up other aspects as the episodes went along, like Doll's entire storyline.

Getting the obvious differences in characterisation between Pilot and series Doll out of the way, have you ever wondered why we get the reveal that Doll's parents have died both in episode 2 and 3? It would have been a lot better if it was just revealed to us in The Promening, after all Liam's writing is hardly ever on the nose when it comes to this type of stuff, why repeat to the audience information that they already know?

That scene with Lizzy and Doll in episode 2 is in general one of the most forced scenes in the show; it serves his purpose of setting up Doll and Lizzie's characters alright, but it doesn't make a lot of sense if you start peeling away at its layers for a while.

I can and will judge Doll as she is right now if her story was being made up as the show went along, I've seen good pantsie writing in my life, and I can usually tell at which point the writer lost sight of his original idea and it's starting to fall apart.

"If you like the series how it is, Doll and the school elements are VITAL. Irreplacable. And if you really don't like how the series went, as it seems you do considering you think it'd be better if the entire thing was rewritted, make a fanfiction"

I like how the series is, but I really like how Murder Drones could have been.

Ideally, in a perfect universe, we would get two 20 episodes long seasons that set up all of the things that have happened in these 8 episodes and also give us plenty of time to flesh out all of the cast, the world, and look at side stories that reinforce the main themes of the series or give us some breathing room between the big events.

Of course, we don't live in that perfect universe; we only have 8 episodes to tell a story, thus, we need to be very thoughtful of what we put inside the plot because we don't have a lot of time to flesh everything out.

Probably, for the story that Liam wanted to tell, 16 or 12 episodes would have been enough, even if it still seems a little bit scuffed, but again, we don't have those, and he should have paid more attention to that fact.

We'll circle back at this in just a moment.

"Whew, that was...a lot. I think you can tell I really like this show. Again, I apologize if I come off as rude or pompous or whatever."

No problems. You sounded genuine.

"I'm just very passionate about the show. I don't think it doesn't have flaws, it is rushed and Liam isn't one for super fine worldbuilding details, but ultimately those barely affect it for me. They dock like, half a point combined for me."

And if that's the case, good for you. I'm happy that you can still enjoy the show the way it is because I've become pretty miserable as a result of picking apart all of its flaws and wishing for them to not exist.

The real Reasons.

Now that I have taken apart all of the individual pieces of the confession, it's finally time for me to provide you with some answers.

The main reason why I wrote that original confession was because of this Other confession, that basically pointed out the fact that confessions as a whole started s#####g ass, and it got me into questioning if I could write something better.

I had a couple of ideas I wanted to discuss, and threw a couple of them into that original text, hoping that it would live up to my standards. @oldmanjenkins985 read it, disagreed with what it had to say, and that's how we've got to this point.

As I have stated in the first part of my rebuttal, I used to believe that Liam Vickers was so interested in his end of the universe storyline that he wanted to go for it at any cost, even if that meant skipping important character work and rushing through most of the plot points he had in mind.

With that assumption, I thought that all the other ideas, like Doll, Alice, Beau and the sentinels, were just things that Liam came up with as production progressed and thought they were too cool to disregard, so he kept them. He kept them even if he didn't have the time to flesh them out or the courage to simplify his story so that we, the audience, wouldn't feel robbed.

I really love Doll.

I can't stress this enough, I love Doll way more than I love Murder Drones.

But exactly because I love her so much, I need to keep her at harm's length; she's not a real person, she's a fictional character, and as such, she can and should be eliminated from the story if the final product would benefit from it.

I'm someone who's willing to make the necessary sacrifices for the sake of art, even if it means eliminating good ideas that can't be done justice in their execution, and I believe Doll to be the biggest example of this due to her own niche role in the narrative and how said niche exists only because of her.

Let me explain: Doll is the main side antagonist of the first season of the show.

Let me repeat that: Doll is the main, SIDE antagonist, of the first season of Murder Drones.

You don't just "make" a side antagonist and drop it into the story because he's important, no, you have to consciously make room for their existence because they are not as necessary to the story as the protagonists, the supporting characters, or the main antagonist. The niche that Doll fills in the story is one that innately benefits her and her only, so she needs extra character work to make sure that she feels connected and important to everything else going on.

Alice and Beau are roadblocks, you could say that they had a lot of untapped potential, but the show never teased us with said potential in the way that it teased us with Doll's, so they don't feel like wasted characters because that's all they were ever meant to be.

I would cut Lizzie and Alice out of the story to give Doll more development, but I wouldn't cut Doll out of the story to give Lizzie and Alice more development.

Two out of three fulfill their roles decently and extra screen time isn't mandatory, the third one has a role that exists only to benefit them and as such they should be given the necessary screen time to make their presence not feel like a burden.

Another thing that I've noticed while writing "The insane, untapped potential of Rebecca from Murder Drones" (which I encourage everyone reading this to check out, as I consider it to be my masterpiece), is that Doll doesn't really tie all that well into any of the themes of abuse present in the show; sure, there's her relationship with Lizzy, but you can interpret that in a miriad of ways, some of which being more healthy than the others, and a lot of them even positioning Doll as the abuser and Lizzy as the still guilty yet repented victim.

Side antagonists or just general side characters whose stories are focused on exist to expand the themes or the world of the setting, and they need to be included into the narrative only if you have the time to focus on them, otherwise they need to remain on the concept board.

My obsession with Doll isn't a temporary fluke, it's going to carry on for the rest of my life.

But guess what? I've been hyper obsessed with a lot of things in my life, Murder Drones being one of them; when the dust will be settled, the only thing that will matter is the quality of the actual show, and in his current state that future isn't looking so bright.

I've seen a lot of Murder Drones creators losing a lot of interest for the show after episode 7, and I myself have lost my suspension of disbelief after having lots of time to internalise it.

I'm not sure if anyone reading this has noticed it yet, but ever since episode 7, the world of Murder Drones has become ten times smaller. We've erased Tessa, the school setting, JCJenson and Doll from the equation; many people now believe that the planet is going to be destroyed and only the most relevant characters will survive its collapse, thus eliminating the entire worker drones society from the plot; all human life is most likely dead and the planet Earth was revealed to have been destroyed back in episode 6; it really feels like with every passing installment the Murder Drones universe just keeps getting smaller as the stakes get higher, and I don't think that's a good thing, it actively harms the potential and creativity of Murder Drones as a series, and it makes it harder for the fear of the unknown to have any sort of impact when the universe is so claustrophobic that it's far easier to assume that all of the undiscovered mysteries are just the angles of the room.

If I had to compare Murder Drones to any other series, I would say that the Epic Mickey franchise is the best way to describe how I feel about it.

Both series are a collection of pretty cool concepts and have a lot of angsty and edgy material as a part of their world building, and both of them execute some of their individual ideas perfectly while the overall product misses the mark of a masterpiece.

And while Epic Mickey is held back by the poor gameplay of both installments and the poor writing of the second one, Murder Drones is held back by a lack of focus and restraint from his creator.

People often point to the founders of Glitch when they try to justify the rushed pacing of the story, but in my opinion, if the higher ups of Glitch were truly responsible for their show's shortcomings, at this point at least one of the members of the crew should have made us aware, and this reasoning still doesn't take away the blame from Liam, as he still has mostly unchecked creative freedom.

Remember that video on Liam's official YouTube channel titled "So I've been given too much creative power and made a show"?

Well, you know what the saying says.

"With great power comes great responsibility"

And this is true even for art.

[innocent-artery]

Hi can you write a Robin Buckley x reader fic, where Robin and reader were each other's first kiss (they didn't tell anyone)and now are partner for a science project. At first they dont realize who each other are, but once they realize it it's awkward, eventually reader asks Robin if she wants to go on a date and Robin says yes

Of course! I fell in love with this idea as soon as I read it, I love Robin with my whole heart and I hope I did her justice.

we fell in love in october

1.8k words

Summary: The cute girl in your science class has a first kiss story that's strikingly similar to yours.

Pairing: Robin Buckley x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. Reader discretion advised.

While listening, I recommend listening to secret hiding spot kinda love, a spotify playlist by me!

~

You didn't think anything of it at first. But then again, that's usually how these things go.

When you stepped into class on the first day of school, taking the first empty desk you saw, you didn't think it would ever make a difference. You didn't think you'd even spare your seatmate a second glance, planning to daydream through the entire period.

But the more you sat near her, noticed her in your peripheral, you found yourself leaning back to get a better look- still trying to be as subtle as possible. She was leaned back in her seat, legs spread open in a manner that would earn a side-eye from most parents, right leg tapping furiously. Her arms were folded comfortably over her middle, and she was chewing on her lip. Her eyes darted towards you, and she gave you a shy wave.

Shit. You hadn't realized in your curiosity that you'd actually turned your head all the way and were now staring at her. You ducked your head, giving an embarrassed 'hi'.

Robin seemed to be opening her mouth to say something, but it snapped shut when the teacher, with a very dinosaur-like face and cat-eye glasses, cleared her throat in a shrill and exaggerated manner. She began calling out names, and you let out a quiet breath.

You were now hypervigilant about how often you glanced at her, cheeks warming every time she caught your gaze. It wasn't panic that flared up in your stomach, but you weren't sure what else to name it. Excitement, perhaps?

"Buckley, Robin."

"Here!" Your seatmate raised her hand, and upon further inspection, you noted the chipped black paint on her nails. Her fingers and wrist were adorned with silver jewelry. It waved, and shit.

She caught you again. Your head whipped back towards the front, and you could have sworn you heard a quiet laugh.

. . .

"Today's the day, Pop."

Your head fell back, a groan paving the way for an exhausted laugh.

Robin had given you the nickname Pop a month into school, after she'd made a comment that you, like Mary Poppins, were "practically perfect in every way". You'd laughed it off and rolled your eyes, spending the rest of the day desperately praying nobody asked why you were smiling to yourself.

It was October now, temperature dropping rapidly and making way for snow season. So every time Robin trudged into class her cheeks and nose were tinged pink, making your staring problem- which Robin had long since told you she picked up on and teased you for- much worse.

"Don't remind me." You sighed, grinning.

"Wonder how she'll do it." Robin scooted her chair in, folding her arms over the desk and resting her chin on them. "Arrange partners, I mean."

You shrugged. "I just hope I don't get stuck with Carol."

"Ooh, yeah. You'll get stuck doing the entire project." Robin agreed.

"Hem hem!" You winced at the sound. Robin snickered, hiding her face in the crook of her arms to stifle the noise.

The teacher droned on and on about what you assumed was the relevance of the project, how it would impact your grade, and how she would be grading it. You didn't hear, Robin was making faces to mimic your fossil of a teacher.

"You'll be working with your seatmates, and no, there'll be no exceptions."

Your ears perked at that. You and Robin looked at each other in sync.

Robin's face, though it was excited, had a strange undertone of shock. Like she'd just realized something; what it was you had no clue.

"Guess you didn't get Carol after all." Robin smiled, but it didn't quite meet her eyes. She looked a little panicked, actually.

"Thank God." You rolled your eyes, then glanced at the clock. "There's no way we're going to get this done by Monday."

Robin was looking over the material. "Yeah, definitely not."

"We're gonna have to meet up over the weekend, when works for you?"

Robin looked up abruptly. "Sunday," she blurted out after a second.

Sunday.

. . .

You shouldn't have spent as much time as you did standing in front of your mirror, glancing at the clock and then back at your hair.

You'd spent the entire morning cleaning your house, checking and re-checking if your room looked appropriate for company. You had your books and papers laid out neatly over your comforter, finding nothing else and everything to fuss over.

When the doorbell rang, you leapt from your seat, nearly slipping on the hardwood floor as you scrambled.

When you opened the door, Robin gave you a wave. That same awkward wave she'd given you on the first day of school. Your heart fluttered.

"Brought us a little pick-me-up." She held up a plastic bag in the other hand.

"You're a lifesaver." You stepped aside to let her in, blinking at the proximity as she passed you. She was actually in your house. You thought you might shit yourself.

You led her to your room, sitting awkwardly on your bed as she stood looking around, taking short steps as she took in your posters and pictures and furniture. You watched her, trying to gauge a reaction. Did she think your wallpaper color was immature? Was there dust on a picture frame you'd forgotten to swipe off?

When she glanced over at you, you expected her to make a joke but instead she winked.

You certainly weren't expecting that.

Robin laughed at your stunned reaction, sitting down next to you. "Sorry Pop, force of habit." Her head was ducked, curtained by chestnut hair. She ruffled it, tsking.

You cleared your throat, reaching for the plastic bag she'd left on the nightstand. "So, what'd you get?"

It turned out Robin had gotten coffees. While you sipped yours happily while you worked, you noticed Robin pursing her lips and scrunching her nose every time she took a sip. You wondered why she got coffee if she didn't like it, but didn't press.

Speaking of work, you made very slow progress. Your conversation went off topic a few too many times, too busy laughing and too engaged in stories to work and talk simultaneously. At some point you'd abandoned the project completely, lying side by side on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

"So you've never had your first kiss?"

You frowned. What's so bad about that?

She caught on immediately, shaking her hands. "Not that that's a bad thing! It's just, you're really pretty, so that's a little hard to believe, you don't just have guys lining up?"

You were fidgeting with your fingers. "Technically... okay, you cannot tell anyone."

Robin rolled over on her stomach, chin resting in her palm.

"When I was little, probably seven or eight, I made friends with this girl at the park. I didn't know her, I don't even remember her name, but she was really nice. She had so many band-aids on her legs, and she wore this old baseball cap with a smiley face on it. Anyways, us being dumb little kids, we kissed under the slide. It was more of a peck, really, and she ran away as soon as we did it. I never saw her again. But anyway, I don't know if I really count that as a first kiss, because I was so young and it obviously wasn't a romantic thing.."

Your voice trailed off when you noticed Robin's expression. Her jaw was hung open, and she wasn't blinking.

"Robin?" You asked, voice hushed and tense, but she didn't speak. She sat up, rigid in her movement, and walked slowly out of the bedroom, hands folded over her mouth.

The reality of what you'd just confessed hit you like a truck. You told her you'd kissed a girl. Even with how much you padded it over by saying it happened when you were young and stupid and that it meant nothing, fact was fact and if it gets told to one wrong person, it can get warped and twisted into some predatory lie and you could end up kicked out of the house and getting beat up behind grocery stores.

One minute passed. Two, three. Finally you couldn't stand the silence and hauled yourself onto your feet.

Robin was standing just outside the door, leaned against the hallway wall with her arms crossed, one hand picking at her lip. Her head jerked to look at you, cheeks paled despite the warm light from your bedroom washing over her normally honey skin.

Your hand was shaking on the doorknob, lips chapped as you opened them to speak. "I know what it sounds like-"

"You remember the hat?"

Your brows furrowed. "Huh?"

Robin shuffled past you, reaching elbow-deep into her backpack until she tugged out a tattered old snapback with a very familiar yellow stitching on the front.

Your jaw fell open. You looked, dumbfounded, between her face, equally awestruck, and the hat.

"That was you?"

Robin nodded. "That was me."

You smiled, even if only out of anxiety. "You ran away from your first kiss."

"Hey, you surprised me!" Robin threw her hands in the air. She was smiling again, ruffling her hair and shaking her head. She turned to you, who was sat back on the bed now. "Anyways, you don't even consider that a first kiss."

You shrugged. "I didn't like you then."

"But you like me now, eh Pop?"

You froze. Robin laughed, flopping back down onto the mattress. "Kidding, kidding."

But she was still chewing her lip, ducking her head down so that her hair shielded her face. You stared at her rifling through papers, resifting as though she herself didn't know what she was looking for.

"Robin."

She looked up, the most bashful you'd ever seen her.

Your body acted on its own. Your lips caught hers in a moment of reckless abandon. Briefly, before panic settled in, and you began to draw away, but a hand on the back of your neck pulled you back in.

The world around you seemed to fade, the only thing going through your racing mind was the shock of your own actions. The fact that you were actually kissing her.

When you broke the kiss, she chased after you, forehead rested against yours. Her eyes were still closed as though scared to open them, breaths held. Her hand was shaking against your skin.

When they did open, they were wide and terrified. You winked at her, and they softened, laugh lines closing around her eyelids.

The silence was deafening. She rested her face in your shoulder. It wasn't until she started giggling that she looked up.

"What's so funny?"

"I didn't run away this time." She grinned.

"Good for you, Robin." You rolled your eyes, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips.

You sat there for a moment, just staring into each other's eyes, fingers tracing over hair and jawlines. That is, until Robin jumped, clapping her hands against her thighs.

"The project! Shit, it's so late!"

Shit.

~

[starwarsmum]

Onto the next chapter of Introducing: Mousinette! Finally we see Marinette arrive in Gotham ❤️ there is a panic attack depicted in this chapter. It isn't intense, but it's there

As the Easter break approached, Marinette was snowed under by her tests and commissions. She apologised to Barbara but wasn't able to keep up with their weekly chats. She had a conditional offer for her university of choice and she had to get the appropriate grades. She promised that she would catch up with the other woman as soon as she was free but, for now, she was under more than enough pressure.

Marinette slept for 36 hours straight when the final test was complete, and the final commission boxed and sent to the buyer. When she eventually awoke, she was hungry, bleary and wanted to crawl back into bed to sleep for another 36. Unfortunately, Penny and Jagged had made plans to stop by that day and Marinette had promised to be available and not half-dead for the visit so she had to shower and make herself presentable.

“Lil M! It feels like forever since we saw you last, how's my favourite little rocker?” Jagged's voice boomed as he caught sight of her. She grinned and snuggled into a hug from Penny, making him cry out in mock outrage. “We were just talking to your parents about our plans for your break, Rockette.”

“Oh?” She was only mildly interested in the plans, as she knew her parents had asked her to keep her schedule free to help more in the bakery now that she didn't have the BAC breathing down her neck. “I hope they involve plenty of rest, seeing as I still feel like I haven't slept in a week.”

“Well, there will be plenty of time to sleep on the plane!” Penny said brightly, making Marinette pull away from her sharply. “Ah-ah,” she admonished, shushing Marinette before she could start bombarding them with questions. “Your parents agree that you've more than earned a holiday, which is why you haven't been allowed to take on any new clients, and your parents asked you to keep your schedule clear.”

“We knew you wouldn't do it unless you had another obligation, Marinette,” Tom said mournfully, regretful that they had had to trick their daughter. “We are more than capable of keeping the bakery running without you, and Penny and Jagged offered to take you to see your new university during the trip.”

“I don't even know if I passed yet!” Marinette exclaimed, throwing her hands up. It was only token resistance, she knew that if they had taken the time to work with her parents then there was no way she wasn't going. “How long do I have to pack?”

“Well, the jet leaves in 4 hours-” Marinette cut Jagged off with a screech, launching herself back upstairs without another word. The adults stood around chortling as they waited patiently for her to re-emerge with her suitcase. When she came back down half an hour later, pink suitcase and carry-on in tow, he continued as though there had been no interruption. “-and as we don't have to fly commercial, there'll be plenty of time for you to tell your little friends that you won't be available,” he finished smugly. 

“Maman, Papa, thank you so much,” Marinette squeezed them both tightly, promising to keep them updated while she traveled. They parted tearfully, but Marinette was also excited to see where she might be living in half a year's time. “I can't believe you didn't tell me, I have no idea if I packed everything I'll need.”

“Anything you don't have, we can pick up for you,” Penny reassured her. “Besides, it's only for 2 weeks, and we have a pretty packed schedule ready for you.”

“Wait, does Barbara know?” Marinette asked excitedly. When Penny confirmed that it would be a surprise for her too, Marinette squealed and immediately began planning what she would wear to meet the young woman. Penny eyed her carefully, noting the light flush to her skin and the over-bright sheen to her eyes. She knew Marinette had a good head on her shoulders, but also that she had a tendency to let her heart lead her, which didn't always end well.

Choosing to shelve that problem for later, Penny allowed Marinette to babble excitedly about everything from the architecture she had seen in pictures of Gotham, to the latest red carpet fashions. The nervous excitement kept Marinette bouncing in her seat during the flight, and whenever Penny and Jagged closed their own eyes to get some rest, she pulled out her sketchbook to jot down new ideas. 

When they eventually touched down, it was late evening in Gotham, meaning that Marinette's parents would be getting up soon to start their morning bakery routine. She fired off several messages to confirm that she was safe and sound in Gotham, unsurprised when only her parents messaged back.

They trudged to the Rolling-Stone’s apartment, Marinette yawning and bleary-eyed. The adults promptly sent her to bed, saying they would wake her at a reasonable hour to discuss their next plans. She sleepily demanded that seeing Barbara be a priority, as she was supposed to be having a video call with the woman the following evening anyway. Only once they had agreed, did she allow them to prod her into the room that would be hers for the next 2 weeks.

She was asleep almost before she had fully laid down, Tikki settling into the crook of her neck.

_ _ _

Barbara Gordon was used to long nights, being the main coordinator of the bat-family’s nightly activities. At 32 years old, she had seen her share of horrors and continued wanting to make a difference to their city. She was used to spending her days catching up on some sleep, before assisting the GCPD with cold cases so that she could afford everything she wanted.

When Penny Rolling had contacted her to help out with a budding designer's website, she had been intrigued. She had then proceeded to look for as much information as possible about the girl, not wanting to go into the agreement blind. She hadn't expected to find out about Parisian superheroes as part of her research, but she took it in stride as much as she was able.

Then she had met Marinette and immediately felt a protectiveness that defied logic. The girl was clearly competent, clever and driven, something Barbara appreciated, but there had been an underlying sense of vulnerability, which had ignited motherly instincts she hadn't known she possessed. She often wondered if this was how Bruce felt when he adopted yet another stray vigilante. It certainly explained why the manor was always overrun.

She had been relieved to find out that the ‘Hawkmoth situation’, as Marinette called it, was long resolved, and that she didn't need to worry about her brand new sister being caught up in attacks anymore. She had enough sibling-figures that threw themselves into danger with reckless abandon, thank-you-very-much. 

On this particular evening, the Bat-boys were needling her for information about her sudden acquisition of not 1, not 2 but 3 MDC original pieces. They were green with envy, none of them having been successful at locating Jagged Stone’s now famous designer (because she would not allow them to crack her firewalls, she was the Oracle for a reason) and so they had taken to trying to trick information out of her. 

“C’mon O, you know I've been a Jagged fan since the beginning. Our first date was at one of his concerts! We know she's French, we know he thinks of her as family, but how did you get ahead of us on the waitlist for a commission?”

Barbara snorted, keeping it to herself that she had deliberately asked Marinette to hold off on accepting the commissions the boys had sent her. The girl was strangely accepting of the request, stating something about knowing what it was like to tease a sibling-figure. She refused to elaborate, but Barbara wasn't too concerned - Marinette had a lot of friends, lots of them probably felt like family at this point.

“Can we keep the line clear, Nightwing?” Came Bruce's exasperated voice. “Oracle, how is the situation at the dock progressing?”

“Looks like you should be good to engage, they just swapped a couple of briefcases. I have some decent photos of the exchange, lovely and clear. I doubt this politician expected to have this much scrutiny, he's not even covering that very distinctive mole of his.” Being a corrupt official was bad enough - a sloppy corrupt official? It was like he wanted to be caught. 

A couple of hours later, Barbara signed off of comms, intending to get a better night's sleep before she had her catch up with Marinette the following day. It felt like it had been months, rather than weeks, since she had spoken with the girl, and she missed her. 

When she awoke the next morning, she had a message from Penny, who had apparently landed the day before and wanted to crash the video chat that night. Barbara's two favourite civilians, available on the same evening? Not just a ‘yes’, but a ‘hell yes’. She smiled as she tidied up her living space, knowing that Penny would want to stop for dinner after the call.

She got a response saying that Jagged had other plans that evening, so she found the details for her favourite local takeaway. She was just putting away her work when her phone lit up with messages from Dick. She was about to open them when her doorbell sounded.

After doing a visual and auditory check that it was, in fact, Penny Rolling at her door, she buzzed her up to the apartment. Once bitten, twice shy and all that. So she was instantly on high alert when she heard hushed voices making their way to her door. She grabbed her safety bat from the stand beside the door, and prepared to depress her emergency beacon.

As the door swung open, she leveled her bat at the two women who appeared, which made the smaller one almost drop the boxes she was carrying. Penny cried out in alarm, pushing herself between the two and shouting for calm. After a minute or two’s confusion, everyone had calmed down enough for Barbara to recognize Marinette.

“Well, I guess that means you're surprised?” Penny said into the strained silence. Marinette frowned at her, before dropping in front of Barbara and catching her eye. “I'm sorry Babs, I didn't think bringing Mari would be a problem, I just wanted to do a nice surprise for you-”

“Penny, could you take the boxes to the table and let Jagged know we made it safe?” Marinette interjected, smiling up reassuringly at the older woman. Once Penny gave a jerky nod and went through to the other room, Marinette dropped her voice. “It's okay, Babs, you're okay. Whatever you're seeing right now, it isn't real. Can you feel my hand? It's on your arm right now. Maybe you can remind me what perfume I chose today, I'm so scatterbrained.”

“Y- you smell like strawberries,” Barbara said in a strangled voice. “Strawberries and flour.”

“That's great,” Marinette continued, flashing a beam at the woman. “Can you tell me what you're thinking right now?”

“That I'm a grown woman and I'm having a panic attack,” she bit back a hysterical laugh. “I'm so sorry, I don't- I don't get surprise visitors. The last time someone came by unannounced I ended up in this chair.”

“Oh, my God, Babs, I'm so sorry,” Marinette's voice strained with tears, her comforting hand starting to shake slightly. “I had no idea, or I would have emailed you last night when I landed. Tell me what I can do to help you, please.”

Barbara took several deep breaths and fought to bring her heart rate down. She could hear Penny speaking tearfully to someone on the phone, probably Jagged. She startled again when Penny reappeared in front of her, holding her phone out.

“Babs, are you okay?” Dick's voice came through the line and Barbara started to feel grounded again. She let out a semi-hysterical hiccup and he carried on. “Do you need me to come to you? Or do you want to come here? You'll never guess who showed up here, Babs! Jagged Stone! Did you know Bruce knows him?”

“Dick, you knew that he knows him,” Barbara laughed. She wiped the remaining tears out of her eyes and glanced at Penny. “And let me guess, you're using his phone right now?”

“I totally am,” Dick said gleefully, and Barbara could almost imagine him sitting on the edge of a sofa, his knees bouncing up and down. “ And he said that he can get me an in with his designer! So now you won't be the only one with an MDC original!”

They had a very short conversation before they handed the respective phones back. Penny and Jagged had another quick conversation and they decided it would be better if everyone was together, so Dick was coming to pick the three up.

Marinette immediately began to fret that she hadn't baked enough, eyeing Barbara’s kitchen thoughtfully before deciding she simply didn't have time. “I'll have to make more next time,” she shrugged, making Barbara laugh, which made her beam back at the woman. 

When Dick showed up, he immediately introduced himself to Penny, squealing that he recognised her from Jagged's tour photos. Then he spotted Marinette and did a double take. Barbara could see him eyeballing the black hair/blue eye combo and wondering if it was too late to rescind the offer to take them to dinner.

“Dick, this is Marinette, she's like my French little sister,” Barbara said, beaming up at Marinette. She gave a subdued ‘hello’, no doubt still feeling guilty for sending Barbara into a panic attack. “Penny introduced us when Mari needed help with something, but we decided to stay in touch.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Dick, Babs has told me a lot about you. I'm sorry you had to come to get us after we frightened her,” Marinette said, looking down as her feet fidgeted. Barbara and Dick exchanged a look, communicating wordlessly. Barbara felt her heart twang as she rolled towards her.

“Listen, Mari, it's okay. You're a teenager who had no idea what I've been through, because I never told you. And Penny, I assume you forgot because you don't visit often, so I get it. I'm sure it won't happen again,” she ended gently, piling boxes of baked goods onto her lap to help move them to the car. “Now come on, we might as well get back to what I'm sure is a very eventful evening with Jagged Stone.”

They filled the car with mindless chatter, Marinette and Penny talking about things they'd seen in Paris, reminiscing the time Penny had been akumatised in Marinette's bakery, or when Fang had turned into a dragon. Dick kept shooting Barbara incredulous looks, but she only shrugged and asked light questions. She would have to explain it in more detail later, but maybe they'd bring it up at dinner.

As they pulled up to the manor, Marinette's eyes widened visibly. She turned and looked at Dick, looking bewildered at his very casual, almost disheveled looking attire. Penny laughed aloud, nudging Marinette until she closed her mouth with a snap.

[val-selfships]

Strawberry, coconut mango, raspberry swirl. For Blue Zircon, Mettaton, Rouxls Kaard, and/or Franziska von Karma, and/or any other ships you feel like adding :) (@my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda)

Thank you for the ask @my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda ! :D 💖

I don't have much for Franziska and Rouxls Kaard especially, so my answers for them are gonna be more like ideas (may or may not be final decision for their ship info sksk)

Long thing below

strawberry: before getting together, how did your F/O realize they had a crush on you? How did they act around you once they realized they were head over heels?

Blue Zircon - She did not know that it was a crush at first, but there was definitely something. This happened after we accidentally had hand contact while opening the same door at some place (we did not know anything about each other at that time) then I kinda just thanked her and walked away (😭😭idk why I find this funny but it just is). Then timeskip to when we get to interact more (somehow) and be friends + more Feelings™ happen, she's kind of obvious about it while trying (struggling) to act like her usual self (she blushes) because girlie (gn, nonhuman) does not know what to do with those big, intense, and new feelings lol (she probably does a lot of searching when she discovers the human internet)

Mettaton - (I'm starting to think 90% of my selfships are my f/os just Somehow Magically getting interested/feelings actually), when he realizes he's down bad he kinda hints it (not so subtly) and makes an entire album (I think there'll also be some Dramatics ✨)

Franziska - years after knowing each other and getting to be friends, she probably starts catching feelings after she lets herself be open around me one day/evening and talk about stuff/processing a lot of stuff that happened (probably ends with a hug), for a while she'll go back to being a little distant (also to hide her feelings) because I think she's still getting used to being super close with someone, but eventually there'll be a confession from either her or my s/i 👀

Rouxls Kaard - I'm still waiting for all the chapters to fully come up with a thing hehe

(I am also going to talk about the f/o that is not on my f/o list :>)

🤍 - He invited me to come to his office one evening/afternoon and we hung out at his room which was right behind his office and we were getting to know each other, originally I was there to ask him to translate a cookbook because only him and another character in the place that we were in understands the language of the cookbook and said character wanted me to go to him and talk (there may have been crying in his room when he asked me if I was truly okay). Then when it was getting late so we decided I probably needed to go back to my room. But then my s/i notices that he doesn't seem like he's going to sleep + his eyebags are so dark and he shares that he hasn't slept well since med school so then I asked if he wanted company then he fell asleep and passed out on my shoulder once, woke up again to say he can walk to his bed only to fail and go back to sleep so I carried him to his bed and gently untied his hair before falling asleep on one of the chairs + floor

I think that's when :>

There was also the time I was given the cult Kool Aid Battery Acid Thing That Makes You Feel Like You're Burning And You Can Barely Move And Talk Because Of All That Pain and dragged to the infirmary where he works at. There were hand kisses, carrying, and ending up sharing a bed involved (I spooned him for the first time)

Then he started asking me to come over more often and I think that's during the time he started falling

coconut mango: what mementos do you and your F/O treasure?

Blue Zircon - some of my stationery for her, and tbh I'm not sure what she'd give skdj

Mettaton - one of my rings for him, and for me I'd hoard his merch

Rouxls - jigsaw puzzle for him, and his Rouxls Roux for me

Franziska - I'm not sure yet aaaaaahh 😭

🤍 - one of my hairpins, some of my crystals, and another addition to his massive mug collection for him, his entire closet for me (also Edwin, when he can't be back home for a day or a few)

raspberry swirl: how does your F/O cheer you up when you are feeling down?

Blue Zircon - she lets me lean on her while I talk about it

Rouxls - food + anything I ask him to do

Mettaton - cuddling and reassurance

Franziska - her whipping some assholes I mean sitting beside me and listening

🤍 - hugging and I talk about it + kisses on the forehead

[eliasliwrites]

Setting [pt. 1]

or so

-Quick note: I will maybe release a character sheet thing(?) soon! Only issue: the characters are not developed yet. So, eventually! This entire story isn't very fleshed out yet, keep that in mind for anything I ever say, really.-

The main story is compiled of two main books (I have an ideaa for a third?? But no actual plot points at all) (and highly lack of motivation, so unlikely). Each have very different vibes, so it's good to separate them.

Book One: -dystopian -futuristic -ish?

I'm not entirely settled on this. Originally, there was going to be a magic system or superpowers involved. But I decided to scrap that (which requires more rewriting, since the hero systems were built around superpowers) (still working on that) There is still magic, but completely different than before? I think it'll mostly come off in a sci-fi type of way anyway.

The planets ebb and flow with a locked energy source. (More if there's life on them?? Not sure yet, but something like this I think) The planets are like gods, old and long forgotten, but more ancient than anything here. Magic (term used loosely) flows through the ground and they can tap into it to do stuff that's only a little of a stretch from existing things. Small stretches of reality, some people better than others. Just being in control of science like another language to nature, and the better you speak the language of the planet the more you can control. Maybe some people, like Monks kind of, that go on temple retreats for years to become connected to the magic? That'd be interesting, but anyway.

Some people are also naturally better at it. Some can use the magic for all sorts of unique things, but only barely. Others can only control a few aspects but much stronger. Some barely at all. It all depends. Kind of like how good you are at math, haha. You can practice a ton but overall sometimes some people's minds just click faster and work less for it.

There's also lots of weird fantasy-type things. Still figuring out how many if at all new creatures and nature things are changed (because a LOT will change in the second book). I don't want to keep it too close to Earth, but I don't want it tooo fantasy vibes, either. Some ideas so far, though:

-Sea creatures work differently >smaller sea creatures can fly in the air (idk what qualifies as small, though, because manta rays can but whales can't. maybe I'll do only the small reef manta rays?) >And fish could too, but not too much, but it'd be interesting >Idea: maybe gravity is a little lighter here too? So people can jump around more and have cool rooftop scenes, idea, idk >manta rays are used for large travel, like trains or planes maybe >originally with the powers it was power based, so I need to figure out more explanations now >but anyway, you climb into the mouth of a manta ray and they put you to sleep and cover you in a neon green goo, then when you arrive they clean the goo off and that brings you awake. so no travel time in your eyes, and if something bad happened (nothing currently in the book but cool perspective, or maybe a hero rescue mission?) while inside you wouldn't age or notice. so you could wake up stranded years later with no time passed to you. maybe it could just be mentioned in a news thing? Like "oh wow, they just found a fallen manta ray with a clipped wing- there was a whole batch of missing people in stasis inside" random thought I dunno >There'll be a scene later with Blondie and Hero where they jump around on top of a field of flying, glowing jellyfish >That's all so far I just like the concept lol so I need to figure out more ideas with it too

-Ocean is broken >Relating to the sea creatures thing, the ocean is deadly to people (is it weird to call them humans? Like, it's not Earth exactly, but. Idk) >I don't know why yet though- too much salt, like the dead sea? Or too acidity? No idea. Maybe it's not actually toxic but there are so many deadly overwhelming sea creatures (that don't fly) that it's practically toxic? Poisonous? To be determined. >Maybe there's a certain type of animal you cAn ride inside- something see-through? Or a giant type of angler fish? Squid? Idk >So maybe because of this I'll need to add a ton of crazy sea creatures. Orr leave it a big mystery, who knows

-Okay now moving on from that type of stuff (we'll get more into it with book two though!) -Cityscapes >I want lots of city-vibes, probably (and ample hero & villain rooftop moments) with high skyscrapers >Possible idea: I was thinking maybe the sea levels have been rising, maybe there was a time a while ago with it idk, and if so lots of the old city are falling apart underwater, unreachable. And most buildings now would be designed to hold from this and maybe the bottoms built to not actually start until above water with deep support systems, but some older ones would be just normal buildings a little underwater that you skip over (might not go with this fs though) >Probably lots of smaller, poorer suburbs surrounding the big city points but I'm not sure how much or the dynamics yet >Probably a few big cities centered around hero work but without powers I still need to reevaluate things >Also need to work on figuring out differences across the globe. Are some countries less interested in hero work? Are some more high tech? Are some more known for other things? Are some flying sea creatures only in specific areas? Is the planet too small to care? Is it less differentiated or is there strong cultural ties?

-High tech! >More of the dystopian aspect but I want probablyy more tech-based things (especially w/o power systems) >Maybe tech amplifiers? As in, specific things used to amplify certain magic qualities, or storing it for higher use? >Hologram wristbands, I think, instead of phones (or both?) (or maybe only hero agencies use the holograms much) >Need to figure out fighting stuff w/o powers >Also, maybe include things like flying or strong powered jump boots or antigravity boots? (Idk I just was really sad to give up mid-air battle scenes and floating, taunting villain lmao) >Maybee some type of tech things to get to each building so they often scale buildings and jump across rooftops. Because that's a vibe

-Government setup >I want a kingdom-type set up, I think >Maybee like Nimona with mixing futuristic with medieval? To a degree, but idk >The Hero (mc, still nameless) needs to be the son of someone important- either the king, ruler, military general- someone. Later his dad dies unexpectedly and he has to rule the military during the battle. >If it is a king and queen setup, I still want a government system, though. Not sure how but something more balanced. Probably also sector leaders. Should it be a bunch of kingdoms? Some more so than others? Some more focused on certain things than others? Or a big sole ruler with multiple mini leaders of kingdoms under it to organize the peace? I don't want world peace necessarily, but the battles are more hero vs villain focused than country vs country. Dunno how to balance that well, or how to make sure there's enough villain things for it anyway. Maybe a rebellion is starting?

>idea: in order to become the next ruler you need to spend a certain amount of years training under one of the Monk temples, learning to let go of previous thoughts and become one with the earth. Because maybe in order to understand the nature, and let it understand you, you simply cannot be evil. The two don't go together. Also maybe, what if there's a type of fruit or fungi or vine or something that vines up your arm when you're trying to become crowned, and it digs thorns into you and reveals if you're ready. Either glows or allows you to bleed a specific color or something like that, to show you are connected enough. Like how you can manipulate specific things using the magic of the planet, this is one thing that only if you are ready can you do. Also this way anyone could train to become the ruler if they wanted (if lots of people became ready, maybe a large test ceremony to determine your skills? Not just battle but problem solving and decision making and quick thinking as well as kindness) and it's not just royal bloodline, it's someone specially connected enough to their planet to understand the needs of being a great ruler >Government isn't completely evil. Maybe morally grey, but not really in the wrong. As much as I like the trope of hero slowly realizing that they were fighting on the wrong side, that's not what this hero -> villain story is exactly. It's literally a hero to villain. Being forced to make more and more morally grey decisions, put in situations that make you choose, examine how far you're willing to go until you break, until you're too far gone. Trying to justify everything for so long until you lose the connecting thread, and are only left with yourself and what you've become. >Anyway that's to say that the government will have flaws, of course, as all do, but the story isn't about it being secretly corrupt- at least not horribly

I think this is all I can think of for now! Let me know any questions, and sometime soon I (probably) will continue with a part two for book two.

Also, just, in general feel free to tell me anything you want to know about this story- I really want to info dump and talk about absolutely everything (this is also a good way for me to organize all my thoughts) but I'm not sure how. I'll go through the actual story itself soon, too! Dump a bunch of plot, so until then here's these random threads