#there's a part of me that always feels rejected

[fromthestacks]

I’ve been sitting with this for a couple days because I want to respond (hopefully) thoughtfully. And on the one hand, it’s a really good point and I can see how all the “I hate men” stuff could wear on the guys who AREN’T, you know, raging assholes. But on the other hand, my forty years of lived experience is pushing back on that. Long-winded rant under the cut.

I have a fair amount of men in my life by choice- family, friends, boyfriend. The ones I choose to spend time with are, by and large, really good guys. They’ve also heard more than their fair share of my own “I hate men” rants, and to their credit they’ve never been upset about it. They know I don’t mean them because my words and actions back it up, and they understand where I’m coming from because they hear the stories accompanying said rants and generally agree with my assessment.

All this to say, as much as I sympathize with the good guys who have to listen to the “I hate men” rants, I also very much don’t, because they have arguably more power to help shift that narrative than I do. The shitty men of the world do not care that people think they’re shitty, they are not changed by reason or logic. Men who, for example, sexually harass women don’t (generally) hear the many, many stories from women’s perspectives and have a lightbulb moment where they realize how wrong they’ve been. They will likely never be Ebenezer Scrooge throwing open the windows to wish the town poors a merry Christmas. But maybe, just maybe, if enough of the good guys start speaking up to call them on their behavior, that might have even a small effect on them.

“It shouldn’t be our responsibility” well no shit, grown adults shouldn’t need to be spoon fed basic human decency, but here we are. Women telling men how much we hate being catcalled doesn’t seem to be fucking working, so if the good guys aren’t willing to try telling them, then I’m out of ideas that aren’t along the lines of Goodbye Earl.

One last thing, this is getting away from me. I work a public service job, and it involves a fair amount of face time with people needing help finding things and using stuff like printers. I’m always polite and reasonably friendly, but it’s never anything beyond professionally kind. Even at that, it’s more than half of my interactions with men that leave me feeling uncomfortable. I’ve had men try to take my hand, I’ve had men ask if I’m single thirty seconds into me walking to their computer to help, I’ve had men stand right behind my chair while I’m looking something up. “Why don’t you just say something to them?” Because I’m not trying to get assaulted or shouted at, I’m trying to make it to the end of my shift and go home. It’s extremely well documented that a lot of men don’t handle rejection well, which ends with a lot of women getting assaulted or worse. And the thing about THAT is, you never know which men are gonna be the ones to lose their cool. So you just hedge your bets and tread carefully with everyone in case.

SO. What this very long-winded rant is saying, is that a lot of women encounter a lot of shitty men, and it sucks absolute donkey dick to deal with. If the good guys out there want to stop hearing about how terrible men are, they need to step the fuck up and help, because women are exhausted. The other, smaller, part that they might not like is that it’s not our job to constantly reassure them that I don’t include them when I say “I hate men”. If I’m spending time with you, and trusting you with these stories or complaining or whatever, then go ahead and take it on faith that I don’t mean you.

Maybe I’m alone in feeling this way, I don’t know. Just needed to get this out there.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[arminsumi]

It's no wonder you like him; 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 just has that somethingness about him.

Chipped black nails. A murmuring voice that immediately gains your attention — oh, who are you? He has to smirk to himself, watching how you bat your lashes at him, not knowing that he's just going to reject you like he's rejected every other girl. But oh, honestly, he's just fooling himself. From the moment he meets you, Suguru knows he's screwed. Yes, deep down inside, he knows it immediately.

He's screwed because he bothered himself with you — to ask you about yourself, to ask you for your number. Oh really? You like this? You like that? Tell me more.

The natural sultriness that Suguru radiates has you — what word did he use? Salivating. That's what he wants; for you to salivate for him like he salivates for you.

For the first few months that you know Suguru, it feels like you just can't catch him — because he's always drifting off with his best friend, or doing his own thing.

But really, Suguru's just relishing in the sight of you chasing after him, loving how you follow him like he's your cult leader.

It does something to him.

What works him up even more is when he sees how you you crane your neck to look up at him. He thinks for a moment about crashing his lips down on yours. If only you knew how much discipline he had, how he was restraining himself around you.

Is it only his sultriness that draws people into him? Or is it also that can't be bothered attitude that he wears like a jacket? What else? Well, he's eloquent. He's interesting. Bilingual. Jet black hair up in a tight bun — bangs and strands falling loosely over his face to show that loose part of his personality. Sharp eyes made less intimidating by the babyish cheeks and slightly dipping nose; two features that he has forever wished he could change about himself. Gauge earrings that catch everyone's eye. Always well-dressed. A slight show-off — oh of course, he just has to give you a mouth-watering glimpse of his martial artist physique every now and then, loving how you pretend that you're not trying to get another peek at all the muscles under his baggy white shirt. He's a tease. Something else that Suguru loves teasing you with is how he spreads his legs outrageously wide open whenever he's sitting.

Your comment on his height still lingers in his mind to this day; it's because of this comment and the sore awareness of how much bigger he is than you, that he gradually develops this I'm not too tall to be kissed slouch.

But nothing excites him more than seeing you at a loud party; the overpowering music is his excuse to come super close to your cheek to speak. The slightest grazing across your skin gets him going.

And in the moment he sees something spark in you, he slouches, bends his knees, and presses a nasty little kiss on your lips. It's wet and warm. He tastes your mouth, closes his eyes, sinks into this abyssal ecstasy, and hums in pleasure at the feeling of your tongue slipping in. His bangs rest against your cheek, his chest gets hotter, but then he deliberately pulls away when you whimper.

Just to frustrate you.

"Sorry, you look so good tonight, couldn't help myself." he excuses, acting cool as if he's not holding back from devouring you, as if he's not licking his lips and rubbing them together. "What, do you want more? Well, why don't you climb up here and give me more?"

[runninriot]

Lovelorn

written for @steddiemicrofic

november prompt: guard | wc: 532 | rated: G | tags: confessions, misunderstandings, not really unrequited love, implied friends to lovers

"I'm sorry, Steve."

The words hit him like a slap, a harsh contrast to the soft touch of Eddie's lips he can still feel on his own, lingering there, an echo of the kiss they shared just seconds ago.

Steve knows that tone, knows that look, knows what they both mean - this is what he gets for letting his guard down. For ignoring his mind's warnings and following his heart's demands. Foolishly reading something into signs that were none.

Interpreting dimpled smiles and batted lashes as more than what they truly are. Thinking the way Eddie touches him, circles around him, always in his orbit, always so close, means that he, too, feels this gravitational pull. This need for closeness, unable to stay away because apart from each other, they're only half of who they are, who they could be.

But no. It's a one-sided feeling; Steve knows that now. Can read it in eyes that are full of regret and pity, knows Eddie means what he says, that he is sorry, but that doesn't make it better, doesn't help soothe the sting of rejection.

It hurts, fucking rips him apart on in the inside - that's what he gets for carrying his heart on his tongue and shoving it down Eddie's throat without asking for permission first, blinded by the illusion that Eddie would gladly take what Steve offers and give something of his own in return.

"I can't be what you want me to be."

Eddie's eyes fill with tears and there's something utterly wrong about it - why is he the one crying when it's Steve's heart that's breaking?

He takes Steve's hands and it's unfair how nice that feels, how soft and warm they are. How perfect the shape of their fingers melt together when they entwine, sliding into the gaps like they're made to fit.

It's not right to cling to it, to find comfort in the way their palms press together, to let hope bloom in his chest when there is no hope for a happy ending.

"I can't do this-"

Eddie's voice is only a whispered breath against his lips and Steve feels like dying, feels every part of him begging to close the distance just for one last time, just one more taste.

"-not if this only a game to you. Not if you don't mean it. I can't be your experiment, Steve, because- I love you. Want you so much it hurts. And it would kill me to have you if I can't have you for real."

Steve wants to laugh, feels it bubbling up from his chest to his throat but it dies there, dissipates into a sob, something wet and helpless, a pathetic little sound he can't keep in no matter how hard he tries.

"You already have me, you idiot!" he yells and means himself with the insult, doesn't wait for a response, can't stop himself from leaning in.

He kisses Eddie without warning, like before, only deeper, desperate. It's ungraceful and messy but so good because Eddie kisses him back this time, doesn't pull away, stays. Stays where he belongs, where Steve wants him, needs him. Where he'll keep him, forever.

[candyswirls]

Space Marine Cuddle Pile PT 2

Continuation of this.

@wolf-feathers12 you owe me fifty cookies and I’m gluten free

Imagine:

Titus is not quite new anymore to the watch. He’s slowly opening up to his squad mates but still is apprehensive. The mission has been a success and his squad wants to celebrate. They worked well together. But Titus does not wish to participate. He is bitter and mournful. News that the Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, had returned came through a few days ago. He was overjoyed at hearing that. But he doesn’t get to celebrate. Not when he’s dishonored his chapter. Not when he’s a black shield. Not when he can’t celebrate with his brothers. Before he can go to the training cages, a squad mate pulls him back, not taking no for an answer. He may have not told them his chapter and was using another name but they can tell how hard the last few days have been. Rather than celebrating they all huddle together, one with another. They miss each of their chapters and brothers. But they can find comfort in one another. It’s a moment of reprieve for the ex-captain’s broken heart.

As an Emperors’ children you are far more prone to cuddling than one might think. You were always underestimated. Many scoffed at your legion and chalked you up to pompous and egotistical men. Some of that was true but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Even more hurtful was the rejection of your Primarch. He didn’t want you or your brothers. He would not lead. You all were so desperate that some followed his clone when he showed up. You’re all scattered and trying what you can to make Fulgrim proud and have him return. Sometimes the rejection hurts so much you’ll curl up together in a pile. Pretending the weight is your Primarch, welcoming you back and saying that you’ve done well. That you’re worthy of his love. Those who are a part of war bands tend to be flock to bigger Astartes. Craving large and warm arms to wrap around you and say it’s okay. You’re not useless or worthless. You’re not an object or disposable.

Little known fact about Iron Warriors. You will cuddle anyone but your own legion. You’re so touch starved and refuse to ask for it due to how the chapter is. Cuddling your brothers? Revolting. Your Primarch won’t do it. Cold and refusing to show any weakness. But the minute any other traitor Astartes wants to start a pile or even a daemon or cultist request a hug, you’re there. You will not say anything and you’re definitely not saying no. You will just join in. If you see a cuddle pile you won’t ask, you’re suddenly in the middle. Emperor’s Children tend to like Iron Warrior’s for this reason. Might as well write “Free Hugs” on the back of their armor.

Newly joined Blood Angels feeling the psychic wound of their genefathers death. The looming of the red thirst and the chance of falling to the black rage. Their new brothers hold them in a large mass. Safe and warm to let them know that they’re not alone. They all feel the pain. They all mourn their father and fallen brethren. They all share it. So they share their hugs and affection.

Black Templars having massive sermons where the chaplain gets emotional and they all hold one another as they recite prayers. Hold each other up. Being strong like Dorn. Their Primarch isn’t here but they are here for each other.

Night Lords will cram themselves into dark and tight places to hide, entangled in each other’s arms. Their Primarch was mad and didn’t care for them. They have to care for each other. Everything they do is vile and violent. Except for this. Ever so gentle touches, protective embraces, the most tender of running hands through hair, gentle head butting. They are one of the most affectionate legions but only with each other. Silent as they relish in each other’s deep rooted sadness and hatred for themselves and solace of being with one another.

Lorgar finally has a moment of silence as the word bearers are escorted away from Monarchia by the Ultramarines. The emperor’s wrath had been fierce. He ends up dropping to his knees and pulling his closest son into an embrace. The others around him move forward without thinking. He pulls so many into his arms, has them laying their heads on his shoulders and back. Pressing their cheeks and foreheads to his own as he cries prayers he wrote. They were innocent! Loyal to him! He had done this for him! All that work! It was a gift! A tribute! He just burned it away! Killed them all. Rejected it. He’s in so much pain and anger but having his sons close eases it a bit.

Magnus clings to his sons. They don’t react as dust swirls within the armor. Foolish stupid Ahriman. He had managed to save the remaining few and bring them into the warp. Relieved that they all weren’t dead. This seemed worse though. He presses a kiss to the top of one’s helmet, praying that there’s some bit of conscious in there. Those that were unaffected are huddled behind him as his new wings caress them.

He wasn’t very affectionate. Mortarion had grown up shying away from it and he rarely indulged in cuddle piles. But after so many had died from horrid plagues and sicknesses, he had to pledge himself to Nurgle. It didn’t matter though. His sons were saved and himself. He had sat himself on the ground and big then to come forth. Some were nuzzled into his side, a few rested their heads on his torso. He was surrounded by his sons. Safe. He didn’t care what it had taken or what would happen next.

[gojobbg]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 8

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: AHHH im so sorry i was gone for so long! work and school and i got sick again. my luck lately has been quite poor, but here's the next part!! i dont think its quite well written but i hope you all think its good! thank u again for ur support, kindness, and patience :) (sorry i say thank you so much, cant help myself!)

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Wednesday

You should have worn more lotion. 

The unkind cold and threatening winds made your trek to work excruciatingly more difficult. Surely you made it, but had to get blind by the flurries of snow in the process. You take your time in the lobby, stomping aggressively down at the weather mats to remove all the snow and ice from your boots. You shake yourself like a wet dog to get the snow off your coat, too. The lobby men chuckle at you, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

It’s been rough to do so, after all. Considering you got rejected twice by the same man, you needed all the serotonin you could get. You spent hours crying, which only halted when you finally passed out. The heartbreak exhausted you, given how dark your eyes were, and how hollow your chest has felt since then. The worst part about all of it is that despite everything, you still had Nanami’s coffee in mind. 

It floated in your mind to go to the cafe and get him a cup. But you have to remember that he has other assistants who know his coffee order now. You were now one of few who knew it. 

To have your relationship seen as just boss/assistant by the other participant felt like punishment. A large sigh left your lips when you exited the elevator on your floor. Shivers tickled your body as you begrudgingly walked over to your desk. It was warm in the office, enough for you to take solace in. 

You begin to turn on your computer and prepare your desk, before being interrupted by two hands slamming down your desk. You look up to find a panting (and exhausted) Haibara. “Yu?” You whisper worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

“He lost the flashdrive,” Haibara lets out. “The presentation… it’s missing.” 

Your eyes widen, “Nanami? But… how?” Of all people, Nanami was never one to lack in anything, especially in organization. He was always sharp and aware of where all his things were. You never had to concern yourself with assignments getting lost because Nanami is too diligent.

“We– we um, drank last night…?” Haibara reluctantly confesses. “We both got home quite late… he might not have his whole head on.”

Without another word, you swiftly leave your desk and rush over to Nanami’s office, with Haibara following closely behind. On your way towards his office, you see all of Takada’s assistants outside of his office, their expressions full of concern. You make your way through them and knock on his door gently. 

“What?” Nanami’s annoyed tone rang through the door. 

“It’s Y/N,” you reply, ignoring his attitude. 

Quick shifting was sound behind the door before the doorknob began to turn. The door opens to reveal a disheveled Nanami. Despite his usually refined features, his unkempt hair and unbutton shirt was quite distracting. The shadows line his collarbone and the darkness under his eyes add to the intensity in his struggling, hazel eyes. He leaned against the door frame, his eyes slightly lighting up from your presence. There was some sort of relief in his eyes, but it was still drowned out by anxiety. 

“Please, please tell me you have a copy?” Nanami practically begs.  

You feel a lump in your throat from seeing his desperation. Not even you can be dismissive to his plea. “I–I was instructed not to keep an extra copy. It’s confidential, so I didn’t…” 

Nanami let out a quiet ‘fuck,’ retreating slowly back towards his desk. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with myself because you’re right and I’m simply irresponsible…” He leans back against his desk, defeatedly holding himself up with his hands firmly down on the desk behind him. He looks distantly to the floor, a sight you never thought you’d ever see. 

The confident, sharp Nanami was now at his wits’ end. 

“Do you remember when you last had it?” You ask quietly. 

“I had it in my coat pocket on my way here,” he recalls quietly, “I still had it when I got off the train, so it must be outside around the area.” 

“But with all that snow…” Haibara begins, the defeat clearly on his tongue. 

You let out a sigh, emitting a calm apology before dismissing yourself. Once you were out of sight, you ran towards the elevator, practically beating the button until it arrived to you. You impatiently wait as you descend, your body already feeling the cold from outside. Even maintenance couldn’t believe their eyes as they watched you run out from the lobby, and into the harsh weather. 

It was a bit embarrassing for you. You were always there to fix Nanami’s scarce mistakes, or prevent them. Even after he broke your heart twice, here you are, outside in the freezing cold, without any garments to protect you from it. You could feel your body beginning to go numb from the seconds you were outside. 

Your exposed legs were inches deep in the snow, your frigid hands sifting desperately through the snow. Why? You asked yourself. Why, why, why? You were freezing, the weather was harsh, and this flash drive is as small as a roach. Why were you doing all of this? 

As you shoveled through the snow, you were finally able to feel how you were feeling after facing Nanami again. You were able to keep yourself from crying, but you wanted to cry profusely. Your boss, your crush, was stressed out over a mistake he made, and it didn’t even make you feel better. Unfortunately, your feelings were too weaved into his, and you felt the stress he is feeling. 

It bothered you to see him stressed. So much so, your body moved on its own and now it was in the cold, looking for the solution to Nanami’s problem. You didn’t even stay idle for a moment while in his office. Perhaps, the reason why you were helping him was because since you met Nanami, he has always been someone to work for his team. 

But you know for sure part of it was that you never want to see him like that again.

Taking on projects on his own to keep his other colleagues working in low piles. Working with clients he personally isn’t a fan of to make sure the company grows. Providing breakfast and lunch when important meetings arise to make sure everyone at least eats well before torturous work. He was strict, but never a mean person. And to that end might explain why you still felt the way you did. 

However, 

Your respect for him goes above your feelings. A hard piece of plastic was barely felt between your fingers, but they were able to hold onto it firmly. The small flash drive, covered in a bit of snow, still glowed green when you pushed up to reveal the USB. You promptly make your way back in, the warmth barely penetrating the cold you developed while being outside. 

I’m gonna get sick, you thought to yourself. As you passed through the lobby, you noticed Nanami’s clients getting checked in at the lobby. You hurry to the elevator, pushing aggressively at the close button so they didn’t have a chance to get there at the same time you did. You move your legs in place, attempting to regain some warmth. While you ascended, you purposely pushed the buttons of the floors you passed to delay their arrival. Finally reaching your level, you rush out to go to the other free elevator. As you did, you were met with a concerned Haibara. 

“H-hey!” Haibara calls to you, but you ignore him and shove the flash drive into his hand. But as you did, he noticed that you were frozen and kept his hands around yours. “You… found it? Did you go outside? Without a coat? Y/N, you’re freezing!” 

Oh, how you wished you fell for Haibara instead. You pull away your hand, quickly entering the other elevator and slamming your hands on the buttons. You look up at Haibara, your bottom lip blue and quivering. “Take it to Nanami,” you say roughly, your voice hoarse from the little warmth in your body. “Your clients. They’re downstairs. Hurry up.”

Haibara holds onto your arms, noticing that you could barely keep yourself up, “yeah, fuck the clients. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Please,” you look up at him desperately, tears welling in your eyes. It was already enough that you felt stupid for even looking for the flashdrive in this state. But even Haibara couldn’t push away the hurt and stress in your own eyes. “I’ll be fine… please help Nanami finish this.” 

“Let me at least walk you to your desk–” 

“I got her!” You both look over to see Tae run over, his apron dancing left and right from not being properly tied in the back. He quickly takes hold of you, looking up at Haibara to give him a curt nod in replacement of a proper bow. “Resume your work, Haibara-sama. I can tend to her.” 

Tae held you close enough that you could feel his warmth. It was intoxicating almost, the solace of his heat and the scent of pine needles emanating from his body. The fresh scent of linen coming from his black sweatshirt made you feel a little nostalgic but uneasy. You could still feel the cold taking you over, your entire body shivering. His hands firmly held you without squeezing you tightly. 

Haibara looks down skeptically, but you wave at him. “Please go,” you croak, coughs finally leaving your throat. “I’ll be fine.” You could see that you didn’t quite persuade him, but for the sake of Nanami, he nodded. 

He eyes Tae, a rare serious aura surrounding him, “get her to a doctor if she needs it. I’ll be back as soon as the presentation ends. Please make her something hot, like hot cocoa or soup.” Tae nods, allowing Haibara to run back towards Nanami, who was probably drowning in his own anxiety. 

“‘m sorry to inconvenience you like this, Tae,” you whisper, your body still shaking and twitching from the cold. “But thank you for that.” 

“No worries, please don’t exert yourself,” Tae softly warns. He tightens his hold on you before slowly walking you over to the cafe. Though you didn’t have enough trust to close your eyes, you did have enough to hold his sweater, confident that he won’t let you fall. “Let me help you. After all, you helped me first. Come, the cafe is just around the corner.” 

The relief on Nanami’s face was truly meant to be displayed in a museum. 

He held onto the flashdrive tightly, mentally scolding himself from ever dropping it in the first place. He forces it into the projector, and everything was set up for the clients to come in moments. He noticed that the flash drive was not only still cold, but slightly wet. “Was it outside in the snow?” 

Haibara nods as he fixes up the conference table a bit. It was ornate with drinks, snacks, and notetaking items for their clients to use and enjoy. “The snow is really growing by the inch out there. This winter is brutal.” 

“It truly is unkind out there,” Nanami sighs, his eyes looking through the window. “I hope you grabbed your coat before going out there.” 

Haibara shakes his head, “it wasn’t me who found the flashdrive; it was Y/N. I caught her at the elevator, and she was the one who handed it to me.” 

Nanami slightly perks up at your name, “did she really?” 

“She left straight from your office to go find it,” Haibara says quietly, “but she didn’t even bring a sweater. She was completely frozen when I saw her.” 

This left a pit in Nanami’s stomach. “Why did she not bring a coat? She’s more rational than that.” 

Haibara lets out a sigh, “who’s to say, Kento. Y/N works very hard to do right by you and this company. I think she’d do whatever it takes in order to make sure you and this department shines.” 

“Disregarding her health is not why she’s here,” Nanami huffs strictly. “Where is she?” 

“I left her with the barista you hired,” Haibara informs, “my guess is he took her to the cafe to warm her up.” 

Nanami’s eyes cut over to Haibara, burning through his soul. Despite this, Haibara still didn’t see his eyes. “You left her with a stranger?” 

“A stranger you hired,” Haibara clarifies. “Anyways, Y/N insisted I come help you. I’d probably make her feel worse if I didn’t.” 

There was a rare annoyance that Nanami never felt. You were always conscious of yourself, and others. Nanami always noticed when you would help someone with a large pile of papers, or when you applied bandages to blisters due to your heels. But more times than not, you never shied away from a challenge, and never hesitated to help someone whether they asked or not. 

But now you were far from him, and he couldn’t do anything to help you. He had this stupid presentation to do, rather than be by your side and tend to you. After all, you truly were the reason behind his success. The reason for his reduced stress, and a direct asset to his department. You did so much for him, only to be given a shred of that effort. He was feeling guilty, not only for being unaware of his feelings towards you, but the immense disregard he had for your own feelings and effort in this company. 

You were his dear assistant, and he was breaking you. 

“I’ll be back,” Nanami hums, rushing out of the conference room. Haibara looks back and follows right behind him, surprised by his sudden dash. 

Nanami, the meeting!” Haibara calls out to him, “you can’t do this right now!” 

His response was silence as he reached the corner towards the cafe. As he appears in the opening, his hazel eyes relentlessly looked for you. But when he stumbled upon you, his concern and annoyance skyrocketed. 

You were lying on one of the couches at the cafe, surrounded by a few of the baristas there. They all comforted you, as you lay under a few blankets. But Nanami noticed that below all of that, you were covered by a large, black crewneck. On your head, a beanie as well. And sat on a stool right in front of you with a hot coffee cup was Tae, the barista he hired. Nanami noticed the warmth in his eyes when he looked down at you, with a free hand out to you. Your boss felt a lump in his throat when he saw you take his hand, helping you sit up to take the cup from him. Tae kept his hand on the bottom of the cup while you sipped it cautiously. 

His chest felt like someone was pushing it down, his breath was limited. His heart, at the same time, was punching against it as well, almost as if it was going through a two-front war. He looks down at his hands, adjusting the sleeves at both of his wrists. He needed to reach you– sooner rather than later. And now looked like the perfect opportunity. 

But before he could take another step, the elevator behind him opened, and the entourage of clients he was expecting stood before him, all smiles. Haibara catches up and pats Nanami’s back, forcing him to turn around as they both curtly bow in greeting. A vein protruded Nanami’s temple, and Haibara looked back to see what he was looking at. 

What he saw made him crack a small smile, his energy returning to him as he led the clients and an annoyed Nanami towards the conference room. 

Taglist: [Now Closed]

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

you don't hate him- Jonathan Daviss

Wearning: +18,smut, english is not my first language

On the set of Outer Banks, you and Jonathan played together as Pope and Cheryl, two characters trapped in a complex and passionate relationship. In the series you were engaged, but in reality it was quite different. You couldn’t stand the arrogance of Jonathan, and he enjoyed provoking you.It was a continuous clash: Jonathan, with his arrogant little grin and those punishing comments, made you go crazy, Yet all the others-especially Rudy and Chase-did not miss a chance to poke you. "You’ll give in, you’re like a ticking time bomb," Chase always joked.

Then came that day, that scene. The script foresaw that Pope and Cheryl would indulge in a passionate kiss, where Pope and Cheryl would finally break down barriers and give in to passion.

You prepared yourself mentally. When the shot started, Jonathan looked at you intensely, his dark eyes shone with an almost mischievous challenge. His dark hair, slightly unkempt, and carved jaw made him even more attractive, although you would never admit it but when the cameras started to turn and Jonathan approached you slowly, Until his lips touched yours. The kiss was immediately deep, all your thoughts vanished. The kiss that followed was of a pure fire. Jonathan drew you to himself with disarming confidence, his hands searching for you with intensity, as if he did not want to leave any space between you. You felt the warmth of his body, and against all odds, the chemistry was undeniable.

You felt his hands make their way to your back, and then they settled firmly on your butt, touching it, and then pulling you even closer. Part of you wanted to reject it, but your body reacted differently. You groaned in the kiss as he smiled arrogantly in the kiss and then caressed your back with his hand while you played with his hair.

When the director shouted "Stop!" an adrenaline rush followed you as you looked away from Jonathan. But he, with that arrogant grin, looked at you complacently, confident.

You avoided his gaze, but you could feel his arrogant grin behind you, as if he knew exactly what effect it had on you.

Rudy and Chase immediately began to step forward, chuckling and casting complicit glances.

"Nice job, Y/N," said Rudy as he passed by with a smirk.

"Well, you two have been working hard, huh!" commented Chase, raising his eyebrows in a mischievous way." Are you sure it was just acting?" added Rudy, winking.

You couldn’t help but say, "Guys, it was just a scene, okay?"

Jonathan, meanwhile, did nothing to hide his complacency. "Ah yes? Just a scene?" he whispered, getting a little closer to you. " Strange, because I thought you were enjoying every second of it."

You stared at him, but he did not break. On the contrary, he drew his face close to yours, so that you could feel his breath on your face." Don’t delude yourself," you replied, trying to keep calm, even if your heart was beating faster. "I can act very well."

"It will be..." he replied, with a provocative smile. Then he slowly walked away, leaving you with a mix of anger and confusion. He was arrogant, annoying, but also had an irresistible charm that you couldn’t completely ignore.

As you walked away, you heard his voice behind you: "Hey, Y/N! Wait. Next time, maybe try to put a little less passion in it so I can concentrate too." You turned around, ready to answer in rhyme. " Jonathan, trust me, it wasn’t even half of what I could have done.

"sure as no," said Jonathan amused and you felt the anger that increased in you as you returned to him and you saw perfectly his satisfied smile. You looked him in the eye, trying to keep control. "It’s just work for me, Jonathan. Not everyone loses their head for a kiss on the set."

He laughed, getting closer. "Oh, really? Because it seemed to me that you were not pulling back..."

You would have answered him, but something in his eyes, that mixture of arrogance and attraction, blocked you. He stepped back, with that confident smile, and turned to walk away.

"See you in the next scene, Cheryl," he concluded, using your character’s name deliberately. You watched him go away, while your heart beat fast.

"I hate it" you murmured.

---

It was a couple of hours and you were retreating to your trailer to prepare for the next scene. You tried to shake off the energy of that kiss and focus on the script, but every time you dived into Cheryl’s lines, your mind would go back to Jonathan, his self-confidence and that kiss that had been so much more than a scene.

A couple of bangs at the door got you off your feet.

"Come in," you replied with little enthusiasm, continuing to stare at the script.

The door opened, and as you had imagined, it was Jonathan who peeped. He stood on the threshold, his hands tucked in his jeans pockets, his sneer smile still printed on his face. "We have to rehearse the lines for the next scene," he announced, his voice low and firm.

He didn’t smile at you, and you sighed, putting down the script. "Jonathan, if you’re here to annoy me, save yourself the trouble."

He laughed softly, closing the door behind him. "And why do you think I’m here to annoy you? Maybe I’m here to make sure you’re ready."

You’re turning towards him, crossing your arms. "I’m ready, Jonathan. Not everyone needs a distraction to do their job well."

That comment seemed to strike him; his smile wavered for a moment before returning more brazenly than before. "Distraction, eh? Interesting how you blame me for what happened earlier."

The tension was palpable, and you stood up, approaching him. "I’m not the one who takes the scene as an opportunity to... to do something else." The words came out of you impetuous, harder than I had planned.

Jonathan came up, his dark eyes peering at you as if they wanted to read inside you. "Ah, so now I’m the one who overdid it? You know, Y/N, there’s a fine line between hate and... more. Maybe that’s where we’re playing."

You stared at him, his heart beating furiously. "You’re unbearable, you know that?"

"And you are a hypocrite," he answered without hesitation, getting even closer. Now you could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, a silent challenge that neither one was willing to miss.

You tried to turn, but he grabbed your wrist, holding you. "Don’t turn around when I’m talking to you," he muttered, his voice a mixture of anger and desire that made you shiver.

"Let go of me, Jonathan," you hissed, even though a part of you wasn’t sure if you really wanted to.

"Why?" His grip became more delicate, but he didn’t leave you. "Are you afraid of what might happen?"

His look was burning, and at that moment you could not resist. With a determined movement you approached and pushed him slightly, but he grabbed your life, pulling you firmly to himself. Before I could say anything, his lips were back on yours, and this time there was no scene to play.

It was a real kiss, intense and desperate, where every repressed emotion finally seemed to explode. His hands caressed your hips, and you clung to him, forgetting for a moment all the bitterness and harsh words.He tied your legs on his hips and you groaned in the kiss for friction as he made you lie down on the bed while you were still kissing. You slipped your hands over his hair making him moan while you pushed your clothed intimacy on his making us both moan in the kiss.

When you two broke off the kiss, both out of breath, he looked at you with a satisfied smile, the usual smirk that now tasted different.

"See? I knew you didn’t really hate me," he muttered. You watched him, still shaken, not knowing if you wanted to slap him or kiss him again. "It means nothing," you replied, trying to keep control even though your voice was trembling slightly.

"Say what you will, Y/N," he replied, gently tracing his fingers gently on your face as he watched. But I think we both know how things really are."

You looked at him trying not to close your eyes when his hands touched your face. "I hate you, you’re arrogant-" you were talking but he silenced you with another kiss while you moaned.

Your tongues rub against each other as you kiss frenetically. He looks better on you as he pulled off his shirt, revealing his toned and muscular physique and you watched him drooling.

Both of you take this moment to catch your breath, staring at each other as your breasts rise and fall rapidly. " Do you still hate me?" he growls, a little out of breath. Once again, you don’t know what the right thing to say is. One of his hands bows down and begins to lift the hem of your skirt, revealing your thighs to his devouring eyes.

Put your hand on his body and stroke his muscles then draw him back to you and kiss him instead of talking. You hear the faint sound of a zipper being lowered. You kiss him more passionately and bite his lower lip. He moans in response, lowering his pants and boxer shorts as he strips you quickly and then uses his left hand as a support over you.

You feel hot seeing Joanthan so sexy above you. Your hands are resting on his stomach as you look down seeing how big and hard his cock was and feel completely out of control, you had never seen a dick so big in your life.

You’re amazed when you feel his fingers pressing against your pussy without putting it in, but with the taste of provoking. His fingers rub violently, sending you jolts of pleasure. You kiss and moan slightly, hearing him smile against your lips. Scratch your chest for the pleasure you were feeling when he puts two fingers inside your pussy and starts moving it. He grunts and opens your thighs then detaches you from the kiss to look at you. With a strong gesture she helps the top and bra with your help as he puts her fingers back in your pussy to push them inside for you to moan hard.

Can feel how wet you are and you hate that he has that smug look

"So wet..." he comments, satisfied, as his finger creates obscene sounds as it slowly pushes him in and out of you. You moaned as you grabbed his cock and he groans as he lifted his finger and taunted your entrance making both groan. "You’re asking me honey" he said teasing you again with his cock.

"please" you moaned as you felt that you were getting even more wet as you felt her cock picking at the entrance of her pussy. "What?" he said arrogantly slapping his cock on the entrance of your pussy. "Fuck me please" you screamed and he groans coming in with a single shot.

Both groan as you bow closer to him and he smiles. "I’m making you feel good?" He teases you as he pushes deeper into you. Both of you are out of breath as your pussy tightens around his cock.

His cock was making you feel so good you would never give him this "I hate you" satisfaction, growl at him as he pushes deeper inside you. He draws his face close to him and looks at you closely. "No, you don’t," he said as he pushed himself deeper into you and groaned more.

He sinks his face into your neck and starts nibbling on it as his hips start to rock violently. Its thrusts are hard and punitive, slow, they withdraw almost completely and then crash forward, almost painful.

Groan and scratch your back. He accelerates, grunting loudly against your neck. He pulls back to look at you as you move with his thrusts, your eyes half-closed and lips half-closed in desperate moans. Gasps as he accelerates even more, giggling arrogantly.

"Look at you," he said as he squeezed a nipple and you moaned. "Do you feel how your pussy tightens my cock? he scoffs. Your eyes close even more.

"You take it so well, baby, if I knew that to make you shut up all I would have done was fuck you much sooner," he said pushing his hips brutally while you accompanied his pushes. "Jonathan" you moaned as he grunted while hitting your g-spot with his cock.

"Call my name" he commanded you and you moaned his name like a song.

You moaned when you heard how hard he was fucking you and you were coming. "he’s so big" you were whining as he smiled and bent down to kiss you while he kept pushing you inside of you.

This time the kiss was sweet while you came on his cock moaning on his mouth. He with two more blows came into you and both of you groaned.

You looked at each other while he was still inside you and you moved your lips back to him to kiss him again as he kissed you back.

You don’t hate him.

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, kidnapping/abduction, obsessive behaviors, losing job/home, mentions of feeling like a burden, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: The scars of the night are hard to shake, lingering in silence and shadows. Back in the safe confines of HQ, every moment feels like an echo of something far darker. But the team is determined—you won’t face the aftershocks alone.

Read Part 1 Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 7

Part 8: Life After

The days following your rescue had passed in a blur, a whirlwind of emotions and fragmented memories that you could barely piece together. You hadn’t returned to the bar right away—not because you didn’t want to, but because something inside you hadn’t quite settled. The fear still clung to your skin like a second shadow, and the comfort of the team’s protection was the only thing that kept you from slipping back into that darkness.

But eventually, you felt the need to reconnect with the world you had left behind. To reclaim some part of the life you had before Devon had torn it away. So, with a shaky resolve, you made your way back to the bar where you’d spent countless hours working, laughing with patrons, and sharing moments of normalcy. It had once been a place of routine, a second home of sorts. But when you pushed open the door that day, the sense of familiarity evaporated almost instantly.

The usual faces behind the counter were nowhere to be seen, and the buzz of conversation didn’t feel the same. When you finally caught the attention of your boss—a gruff man who had never been one for small talk—you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things could slip back to how they were. But the moment he saw you, his expression was cold, indifferent, as if the events that had shattered your life had barely registered on his radar.

“We’ve terminated your employment,” he said bluntly, without so much as a pause for pleasantries. His eyes barely met yours, as if he couldn’t be bothered with explanations.

For a second, you didn’t comprehend the words. It felt like another blow, sudden and jarring. “What? Why?”

“Too many no-call no-shows,” he continued, his tone sharp, almost annoyed. “Can’t run a business with staff disappearing whenever they feel like it.”

You tried to speak, tried to explain, but the words caught in your throat. What could you even say? He didn’t know about Devon, about the terror you’d endured. And even if he did, would it matter? To him, you were just another name on a schedule, another person failing to show up.

The conversation ended as abruptly as it had started. He turned away, moving on to some task behind the bar, already indifferent to your presence. It felt like the last thread of normalcy in your life had just been severed. Defeated, you left the bar, the weight of rejection pressing heavily on your chest as you stepped back into the cold, uncaring city streets.

But fate had more in store for you that day.

As you approached your apartment, that familiar sinking feeling deepened. The building looked the same, but something was off. It wasn’t until you climbed the stairs and saw it—the eviction notice taped to your door—that the full force of reality hit you. The paper fluttered slightly in the breeze, a cruel reminder of everything you had lost.

Your landlord had always been a hard man, but you hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t been gone that long, had you? But to him, it didn’t matter. Rent hadn’t been paid, and in his eyes, that was the end of the story. There was no second chance, no understanding, no room for compassion. You stood there in the dim hallway, staring at the notice, your mind reeling. The world had moved on without you—your job, your home, everything you’d taken for granted. It was all slipping away, like sand through your fingers.

You weren’t even sure how you made it back to the team. The walk to their headquarters was a blur, the weight of your situation bearing down on you with every step. By the time you arrived, the exhaustion—emotional and physical—was nearly overwhelming. You hadn’t intended to tell them everything, but the moment you saw their faces, the floodgates opened.

The words spilled out in a rush. The bar, the eviction notice, the hopelessness that had wrapped itself around you like a suffocating blanket. You felt vulnerable, exposed, as if the last pieces of your life had shattered in front of them.

But instead of judgment or pity, their faces softened with compassion. Price, who had always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders with steady grace, was the first to speak. His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge of determination in it. “Come stay with us,” he said firmly, as though the solution had been obvious to him all along. “We’ll help you get back on your feet.”

Gaz nodded immediately, his eyes filled with empathy. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re a team, and you’re a part of it whether you realize that or not.”

Even Soap, who normally masked his emotions behind humor and bravado, stood beside you quietly, his hand resting on your shoulder in silent support. He didn’t say much, but the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know—he had your back, no matter what.

Ghost, always the quiet sentinel, lingered in the background. His mask hid his expression, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze, the silent promise that no harm would come to you while he was around. His presence alone was enough to steady you.

For a moment, you hesitated. The thought of burdening them, of being in need of rescuing again, didn’t sit right. But as you looked around at these people you realized that they weren’t offering out of obligation. They were offering because they cared. Because after everything, you were one of them. And they wouldn’t let you fall.

“You’ve been through enough,” Price continued, his tone softening. “Let us help you.”

The weight of his words broke something inside you—not in a painful way, but in a way that allowed you to finally breathe again. It wasn’t just the offer of a place to stay. It was the realization that despite everything that had happened, you weren’t alone. You had a team. You had a family. And together, you’d find a way to rebuild what had been lost.

With a quiet nod, you accepted the offer. The relief that flooded through you was overwhelming. For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of hope. The future was uncertain, and the path ahead would be difficult, but you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

As you left HQ that night, surrounded by your team, you realized that life hadn’t spiraled out of control. It had just taken a detour. And now, with their help, you were ready to take the first steps toward reclaiming your freedom—not just from Devon, but from the chaos that had threatened to consume you. 

You were ready to rebuild. Together.

Surrounded by those who fought to bring you home, the shadows finally start to recede. The road to peace will be long, but with each step, the weight lightens, and the fear loses its grip. Together, you close the chapter on one nightmare, knowing that no matter what lies ahead, you won’t be facing it alone.

Only 2 more part left in this series, but not to worry! More things to come!

Tag List:

@strawberryrnilk

@rafaelacallinybbay

Let me know if you would like to be added to the list lovely!

[iron-sparrow]

Sometimes I think I was born angry, and that's why anger comes so easily to me.

In actuality, I understand my anger was planted in me by many factors beyond my control at such a young age that it feels like I've always been this way. Over recent years, I've worked with professionals to carefully make sense of and befriend my anger. The outcome (skipping any unnecessary details of the arduous process) is no longer viewing my anger as my enemy but as my lifelong ally, born out of a necessity to protect myself.

Anger is demonized by so many cultures and more often than not perceived to be a moral failing. How strange it is, that we are taught to reject such a complex and perfectly natural emotion. For most of us, anger doesn't just form from nothing; it's built atop a foundation of sorrow and grief and the inexplicable sense we've been terribly wronged.

Michelle Huang, a professor of English and Asian American studies at Northwestern University, said of anger and activism:

“Anger is an activating force there rather than a kind of dissipating or purely negative force. It’s something that creates coalition there.”

Anger and the understanding that we deserve better are the heart of activism. I ascribe to the belief held by so many educators and activists that rage is a part of my identity as an Asian person raised in the American post–civil rights era. It also cannot be separated from queerness; the queercore punk subculture is heavily reliant on themes of rage and fury.

Yet misplaced anger serves no one, as a friend so helpfully reminded me earlier today. Anger should not guide where your sword is pointed ⸺ rather the force behind its strike. Our rage won't change the minds of our oppressors but can fuel the actions we take to change the world.

This is the paladin way.

STAY ANGRY.

[garciaasfluffypen]

take care of me (like i take care of you) pt. 3

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 2.4k warnings: SURPRISE i finished part three and wanted to post it so i could get this cross posted to ao3 hehe. its time to talk(tm) about everything that happened! y/n's rejection sensitive dysphoria episode is a prominent aspect of this part. poor emily doesn't really know what to do except comfort her girlfriends, jj has some issues she's working through, y/n feels absolutely horrible about everything that conspired

after everything that had happened in the past two hours, you were drained. you barely made it to the bedroom before bursting out into tears. this was it. this was the big kablooey. jj hated you now, there was no doubt about it. considering the way she reacted when you had let the term slip past your lips… you never should have done it. you pushed too hard, and this was the end. you’d have to change your name and move to timbuktu so nobody could find you ever again and you’d never be able to embarrass yourself in front of jj and emily anymore. the harsh what did you just call me? reverberated through your mind as you let the sobs take over your body, practically doubling over with the sheer force of guilt. you couldn’t believe yourself. how could you let it get that bad? it hadn’t even been three months and you already fucked up. but that was just it, wasn’t it? the three month curse you were stuck with. nothing romantic ever lasted past three months. it was only time that this one ended, giving you a chance to reset and find something new. your exes were right, you were never good enough. you always did something wrong. it was bound to happen sooner rather than later, and you needed to expect the worst. 

peeling off the clothes you had worn to the zoo, you blindly felt in what had been dubbed your drawer for your jammies. you had gotten the shirt from an online store and it was the perfect shirt for when you were having bad days or sensory overloads. and a bonus, it was long enough to cover your butt and go halfway down your thighs. you had gotten it big on purpose, and you were glad you did. once you felt the fabric, you pulled it on and stumbled back to the bed, grabbing a pillow and holding it close to your chest as you continued to try and calm yourself down. logically, you knew you were over reacting, but the fact you were tired mixed with the immense guilt you felt for making jj feel bad… everything piled up and you found yourself trying not to spiral more than you already had. 

the door opened and a figure stood there for a second before coming over and pulling you into the biggest hug they could muster. after a second, the scent of emily flew through your senses and slowly but surely you started to calm down as you curled into her arms. 

“oh, lovey…” 

this was one of the downsides to how bad your adhd and rejection sensitive dysphoria was- when you cried, you cried hard. you had gotten good at bottling up your feelings into a little corner of your mind that barely got touched unless you had a whole weekend carved out to mope around. those weekends were far and few between these days, seeing as the budget increase the bau got gave them more opportunities to take cases. it wasn’t too bad, until this happened and you cried so hard you felt like you might throw up. 

you curled into emily’s chest, barely registering the door opening. a red eyed jj stood in the doorframe, hands wringing together as she looked for you. jj looked worse for wear, emily noted. the last time she had seen jj like this was when they were at the fertility doctor earlier in the year, when they talked about the possibility of emily carrying a viable pregnancy. but that wasn’t anything they could talk about right now. the puffiness around her eyes was evident, tear marks showing where she had piled on concealer earlier that morning. she sniffled, gaining your attention. your head perked up and you felt your heart drop when you saw how upset jj was. wordlessly, you shifted on the bed to make room for jj, letting her crawl in, curling herself up between the gap you had created. she wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you tight as she could as a single tear fell down her face. you wiped it away with the pad of your thumb, shooting her a small smile. 

“i’m sorry i reacted that way, baby.” 

her words were muffled into the palm of your hand, her breath dancing across your skin as you put your cheek on top of your head. your logical thinking skills slowly started to poke through the barriers your rejection sensitive dysphoria always put up during these moments, the realization that it also upset jj hitting you like a ton of bricks. you hated seeing her so upset, especially when you knew you caused some of the upset. granted, everything was still so new and you all were getting used to the idea of the three of you being together, but it still hurt you more than you could ever put into words. 

“no, it’s my fault.” you started. “i pushed you too hard. i should have asked before assuming i could just call you mommy and get away with it. do you…?” you trailed off, hoping that jj knew what you were trying to ask.  

“i’m not sure how i feel about the use of mommy.” jj said, quieter than normal. “it didn’t make me feel… i didn’t like it.” 

emily raised her eyebrow, slightly shocked that jj didn’t give you the full truth. while she knew what seemingly the true reason jj didn’t like being called mommy, she knew that it would be something she revealed to you in due time. hell, jj was still figuring it out herself. the dislike of the feminine terms was something that had started within the past year and a half. yes, jj was very feminine presenting and loved dressing up when given the opportunity, yet she had begun to start hating when she was perceived in a feminine matter. it was an interesting late life dilemma to have, and she wasn’t sure how to go about it. she had been so secure in her identity for years, and to start questioning everything? it had started to send jj into a spiral of thoughts she frankly wasn’t ready to think about yet.

the only other person who knew about her dilemma was tara. it had come out one night while the two were having wine after a long case and emily was stuck at the office filling out more paperwork than intended due to her having shot the unsub. the two of them were a bottle and a half deep into pinot gritiot, and jj had blurted out “do you ever just… not want to feel like a girl?” and now here they were, with emily being the second person to know that jj had started to despise the feminine terms of endearment she had been taught to love growing up. it scared her. but not as much as the thought of you thinking you lost her. 

“emmy?” you looked to emily. “do you like being called mommy? because for some reason it felt very natural and i don’t know why.” 

“we can toy around with it.” emily squeezed your hand. “thank you for asking.” 

“i’m sorry i was super bratty earlier, too. i let it go too far.”

“i thought it was hot, actually,” jj started to blush. “i do think we need to play around with different dynamics and what we’re okay and not okay with. nothing has to be set in stone, but if i’m being honest… it was…”

“i liked it when you got all controlling.” you finished jj’s thought. “i really did.” 

“would you want to play around with that more? me being more… in charge sometimes?” 

you nodded. “i’d like that. because i like listening to emmy but…” 

“it’s very easy for you to listen to me, i know.” emily smirked. “and it’s very endearing.”

“is that something you’re okay with?” you looked over to emily. 

“if you’re comfortable with it, then yes.” 

“color system applies to everything we try.” jj stated. “any time, you can tell us to stop and we will. or call yellow and we can talk it out. and it applies to you, too. if there’s anything that we don’t like, we’ll tell you.” 

you nodded. “is there anything else that i’ve done? have i made either of you uncomfortable?” 

emily couldn’t help but clock the nervous look in your eye, seeing the fidgeting start in her peripheral vision. it was sad for her, seeing you like this. she hated when you got sad. you felt certain emotions more than others, and when you did feel them they hit you like a ton of bricks. emily most likely would never know how that truly felt, but she could only imagine the thoughts flowing around in your mind that would make you feel less than. she couldn’t control herself, searching your eyes for any emotion other than guilt. it pained you knowing that you thought you were the reason the conversation was happening. she wanted to grab you by the shoulders and scream at you that it was not your fault and would most likely never be your fault, but she knew that would be counter productive. the three of you were all adults, you could talk about it like adults. 

jj on the other hand, felt horrible. her reaction was the reason you felt as if you were the reason the problem persisted. guilt plagued her as she stared at you, her hand coming up to gently brush back some of the strands that had fallen from your braid. she knew her own insecurities were the reason everything was going the way it was, and the main reason the three of you were sat here in various stages of emotional distress, but it was something she knew taking the blame for would just make you feel worse. she didn’t fully understand how your brain always made you think that you were the problem, but it was something you had been fighting for years. even penelope couldn’t get it through your brain that nothing was ever your fault. and that was saying something, since you and penelope had been friends for ten years leading up to when you joined the bau. both emily and jj knew it would take a while to get past the walls you had put up, but they didn’t realize how tough it would be. but it was a fight they were going to get through together, no matter what it meant. 

“nothing you’ve done could make us uncomfortable, y/n.” jj’s voice softened. “i know this is new, and it’s making you react in ways that you normally wouldn’t react, right?” 

you nodded. “i’m trying to be better, promise. i guess i just want to be taken care of?” you questioned. “but i have a hard time accepting it. like… i just want someone to take care of me like i take care of you. i’m just… i’m getting used to it.”

“is that why you were pushing today?” jj looked at you. “because you wanted to feel taken care of?” 

you sheepishly nodded. “a little bit. i liked it when you told me we were leaving and got all bossy.” 

jj smiled. “i can do that more. do you want to have a certain phrase or word to let me know when you want it?” 

“um… maybe like… a shoulder tap to start? i don’t want to say anything out loud, especially if it happens in front of the team.” 

“how about three taps left shoulder?” you nodded, a small smile forming on your face. “and if there’s anything we do when we’re out that you don’t like?” 

“i’m not sure of that one yet.” you swallowed. “i’m sorry we didn’t have this conversation earlier. we could have avoided this.” 

“lovey, having these conversations is one of the things we need to do to ensure we’re all happy. we can’t necessarily schedule them.”

“i still feel guilty." you sniffled. “i made jj feel bad.”  

“oh baby,” jj pulled you back closer to her as the guilt washed over you again. “i’m not mad at you at all. if anything, i over reacted to that. i promise you i’m not mad. i’m not mad at all.” 

“you promise?”

“i promise.” jj placed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “i’m sorry i made you feel like you hurt me.” 

“i’m sorry i didn’t ask you if i could call you mommy and made you upset.” you looked down at your hands, which were fidgeting with your shirt. 

jj lifted your chin up with her finger. “hey hey, none of that now. no more feeling bad.” 

you chuckled. “okay. i’ll try.” 

“how about i draw us a bath?” emily smiled at the two of you. “with the epsom salt for your sore muscles?” 

“that sounds really nice.” you smiled. “can we light the candle i like too?” 

“vanilla swirl or the one that smells like disney?” 

you pursed your lips, thinking. “the one that smells like disney.” 

“i’ll go grab it.” emily placed a kiss to the top of your head. “you feeling better?”

“a little bit.” you nodded. “i’ll be better soon.” 

“good.” she squeezed your hand. “i’ll go get everything and let you know when the bath is ready.” 

emily slipped out of the bed and went to go get your candle, leaving you and jj sitting on the bed together. she placed her forehead against yours, her hand going to cup your cheek as you sat in the silence. 

“i-”

“if you say i’m sorry i’m pushing you off this bed.” 

you chuckled lightly. “i do feel bad.”

“and i’m telling you that you don’t have to. promise. every relationship is going to have it's issues. we’re just able to talk them out because we’re adults.” 

“yeah, you’re right.” you put your head in the crook of jj’s shoulder. “thank you for not being mad.” 

jj smiled. “thank you for listening and not freaking out when i told you i didn’t like it.” 

“i mean i freaked out a little bit.” 

“but not a lot.” jj chuckled. “you’re adorable.” 

“you are too. like, a lot.” 

you snuggled into jj’s arms, curling into her side. it made you feel a lot better knowing that she wasn’t super mad at you like you thought. while you still felt guilty for making her feel bad, it made you feel better knowing that jj didn’t think of you any differently. 

and that she still deeply cared about you. 

taglist: @jayden-prentiss @idkwhatever580 @multifandomlesbianic @softestqueeen

[savagewildnerness]

Made notes on Viaticum for the Marquise for book club, so I thought I’d share them here in case anyone wanted to discuss anything in this meaningless dissertation…. 

First of all, I wondered all of a sudden when reading this part whether episode titles might not actually be part titles of the whole TVL book?

Let’s discuss Gabrielle!  

Question 1: If you were Gabrielle, would you accept immortality from your son, not knowing if him giving you this could kill him?  I feel like if I had a child I’d say no myself… would she rather have immortality even if it had killed Lestat?  Or did she just not think it would kill him?

The first night she is a vampire, Gabrielle steals a load of expensive clothes, only to instantly discard them… Lestat talks of being spiritually exhausted and just wanting to go ‘home’ to the tower to rest.  But he doesn’t dwell fully on the why of it, nor does he dwell on much of the nature of Gabrielle’s new self and what it feels like to him – a monster, yes, but who in many ways tries to be *good* and who certainly at least struggles with the war between striving for good, and being a fabulous devil.  Gabrielle cares nothing for any mortal anymore.  She tells Lestat she feels as if she died, and refers to her mortal self as “she”, not me now (more reasons than one we can assign to this, of course.)  There’s a great quote on p174 with Gabrielle referring to her human self as she rather than me or I.  

It is way more than that she doesn’t care for those she kills in order to live.  She steals expensive clothes from humans, to discard them that same night without caring.  She snaps an innocent boy’s neck for his attire without thought, and without feeding on him.  How does Lestat really feel about this?  It is against the semblance of morality Lestat strives to follow… and yet Lestat also talks of what a wonderful monster he is and rejects his attempts at being moral as a self-deceiving-lie often enough… so, does he admire Gabrielle’s coldness, or does it terrify him?  Or, both?!  He calls her a pure predator… I think he most likely respects this aspect of Gabrielle, and simultaneously fears it, as I feel like the root of it (not actually caring about humans) is incredibly alien and unimaginable to Lestat.  Not dissimilar to how he always felt about the coldness in his Mother, I suppose…?

On this note: 

Vampire Gabrielle is freed from MEN and from human connections.  Her human-self is something she once was and is no longer who she is.  She cannot care about humans and feels separate to them, as The Sky or God may feel separate…  She is TERRIFIED of being trapped, as she felt in life.  To me, the moments as a vampire when she panics seem because of feeling somehow trapped potentially.  Gabrielle panics when her hair grows – she’s trapped with that CONSTRAINT on her free-self now for eternity (I also find it interesting how very practically Lestat responds to Gabrielle’s panic.)  She panics in the coffin in Notre Dame – could religion and men’s imposition of religion trap her?  She wants to be in nature, away from humans and society…

This is SO alien and inconceivable to Lestat!  Lestat fears lack of meaning, being alone and lack of love.  He craves connection to others.  To be good enough for another to find him worthy of love is the meaning of existence to Lestat.

They both fear what the other desires and desire or crave what the other fears…  I don’t think Lestat fully realises (or acknowledges at least) this initially, but I think Gabrielle knows it instantaneously… and so she also fears for Lestat.  She fears whether he will be able to survive.  I think this is one reason she instantly worries about Lestat turning Nicolas… and Gabrielle knows things of Nicolas in this respect of course that Lestat does not.  Nicolas and Gabrielle have been writing to each other, and Gabrielle may see more clearly the impact Lestat’s change in status has had on Nicki than Lestat does, blinded by both love and his new-born vampire self as he is…?  Lestat says Nicki had been drinking to excess and it had left him thinner and haggard, but had made his beauty all the more striking.  He notes the new malice in Nicki, but to Lestat, all human emotion is beautiful - in its humanity, so Lestat never seems to look to deeply into Nicolas’ experience.  We know the few times Lestat glimpsed inside Nicki’s mortal mind, he was terrified by the chaos and desolation he saw and he quickly withdrew.  

On Gabrielle, on p162, Lestat says “We were together and nothing could ever separate us now.”  Clearly he had no idea in that first instant of Gabrielle’s vampire-birth what would come to pass…

Lestat says “There was no mother anymore, no petty need and terror; she was simply who she was.  She was Gabrielle.”  I found this an interesting way of putting across the way vampires are no longer their human-selves – their human ties are instantly severed or altered (unless they choose to try to keep them), yet they are still their selves…?

I loved this way Lestat describes Gabrielle – “She looked delicate as a diamond can look delicate when preyed upon by light.”

So, let’s talk about Nicolas!  At this point, Nicolas is drinking to excess, believes Lestat has done some kind of Free-Masonry/Cult-esque alchemy/magic thing that he’s excluded Nicki from because Nicki is not an aristocrat, so is too societally lowly.  I feel this could be emphasised even more on TV, right in the middle of The French Revolution, as things will be?  It only gets worse when Lestat then *does* turn his own Mother, an aristocrat too.  

Could there even be parallels made between how Nicolas feels about Lestat to how Louis feels, I wonder?  Or that Louis feels differently – because Nicolas felt Lestat had deserted him... when Lestat first vanishes Nicolas is sure to defend Lestat’s integrity, saying that Lestat would never be ashamed of him or his friends and would never perceive himself as above Nicolas or anyone at Renaud’s.  But Nicolas thinks when he watches Lestat die yet live that actually he’d been naïve for once and Lestat HAS in fact excluded Nicolas from some secret he perceives Nicki as unworthy of.  He must feel like Lestat never loved him.  He must feel stupid and bereft and in the darkest place he has ever been.  

I think *this* is Lestat’s failure unto Nicolas.  Nicolas saw and accepted Lestat for all he was - even bringing up that he saw Lestat’s sensitivity when they were children, at The Witches’ Place… And that Lestat felt from Nicki’s music, I imagine made Nicolas felt Lestat accepted him too…. Not least as Lestat surely did love Nicolas deeply.  But now he thinks Lestat actually didn’t accept him for all he was as he saw Nicki as societally beneath him.  

Later, with Louis, we have someone who is not accepted for the all of who he is either – not in society, not within his family, not by God.  But this time, Lestat can accept Louis for the entirety of his self.  And, on TV, that’s exactly what Lestat offers Louis.  Is he learning this from these experiences with Nicolas in some way?

I think Lestat taking Nicolas with him after Renaud’s was Nicolas’ last true hope at survival.  As things went, even before Armand abducts Nicolas and shatters the very last of Nicki’s reason, I think Nicolas is on a path with only one end: death - from the moment he witnesses Lestat be shot to death, but not die… and then leave him.  I don’t say Nicolas had a huge chance at life even had Lestat taken him then.  But maybe Nicolas might have had 1% chance of life if Lestat had taken him away from Renaud’s right then, explained everything, and given Nicolas a choice of what he wanted.  From the moment Lestat left that night… Nicolas’ sand-timer was counting to his death.  I kind of wish Lestat had transformed Nicki the night after he, himself was turned.  Actually I think that would have been Nicki’s best hope.  But then again, I love tragedy too much, so I am happy Nicolas dies as he was always meant to at the same time!  And I don’t think, in his cynicism he was ever right for Lestat for eternity, even as much as I love Nicolas and believe in his and Lestat’s love as true.  I wonder if, when making Louis, in love, he ever thinks back and wonders how it might have been had he transformed Nicolas instantly?  Or had he at least shared with Nicolas instantly what had happened?  But maybe the knowledge of vampires in itself would have been enough to shatter Nicolas’ mind?  Maybe he was too fragile for immortality as it was, such was the level of darkness and cynicism in him, when coupled with his fragility and that religious foundation?  Anyway… I am straying far from the text here…

Small points:

I love Lestat’s connection to animals, for example, how he can summon his horse, even as a vampire.  Especially when animals are general instinctively afraid of vampires.  This is already on TV in S1 so I look forward to seeing this theme in S3 too.

P173 as Lestat and Gabrielle cross the bridge, Lestat feels “a commotion, the tumult of mortal minds.”  Is this Nicolas being abducted?

I WISH ANNE HAD WRITTEN MORE OF GABRIELLE AND MORE FROM HER PERSPECTIVE!

The first night Gabrielle sleeps and looks dead to Lestat and he gives her a blood kiss… what proportion do you think it’s motivated by desire/connection, and what proportion through his fear as she looks dead, she is dead?  It’s a big thing – she was going to die that very die and now she is alive… is she?

I love when Lestat just watches the sunset when he rises.

P178 “I wanted to say Nicki sat by your bed when you were dying, does that mean nothing?” – I loved this and so I quote it.

I love how in these first days of immortality, Gabrielle and Lestat show their love for each other by denying their desires, and remaining alongside each other before all else.

The Witching Hour again starts chapter 5.

P184 – why call any dwelling a home when it can be your LAIR!?!?!

When Lestat first sees the stable boy’s death in his mind he feels the death ‘as if I had seen a small dark bird suddenly rising from the stables.’ And I wondered – is that Nicolas’ mind-bird?

I love how full-out atheist Lestat is in TVL.  He doesn’t question his beliefs.  Like any 20-year-old, he knows his truth.

The hymns Lestat and Gabrielle hear in Notre Dame are both written by Thomas Aquinas, as mentioned in S1E2

Malice is used a LOT in this part

P161 – Even so early in his Vampire life, in traumatic times, Lestat goes back to Winters in the Auvergne in his mind.  Fragments of memory that always return.

P199 – Did Armand get ‘rapture’ from Lestat’s mind?  Armand is super creepy at the end here when he gets into Lestat’s mind… and he says “Come to me”

Lestat says Armand’s great weakness is pride.  Is it so?  

I ended the part writing “Naughty!  Armand!” When Armand tries to bite and drain Lestat.

Lines/bits I thought could be on TV:

“We were in Paris.  And we were going to live forever.”

Gabrielle jump scaring Lestat the first night she rises as her vampire self is pretty funny so I reckon will be on TV?

“But where would I want to go?  Away from all those I’d known and loved? I did not want to stop thinking of you, of Nicki, even of my father and brothers.  I did what I wanted.  If you follow your conscience, you do what you want….. (snip)… I wanted you to be happy.”  (Side note – wealth and gifts don’t make everyone happy, Lestat!) – Gabrielle and Lestat’s innate differences are really noted on P179

I feel Armand’s vampires at the Tower ‘like bats’ could be glorious gothic horror on TV

The stable boy in Nicki’s coat and Lestat not consciously accepting he recognises it at first will surely be on TV????

LOL at Lestat bursting from his coffin in Notre Dame as a Devil… YET still throwing money at strangers, so they love him and are made happier!!!!

“It will be rage until I have proof that it must be grief.”

Obviously I love all the Caravaggio descriptions of Armand, which are SO Assad too!  I hope some make TV!  And ‘like a succubus’!

Armand and Lestat’s fight in Notre Dame will be AMAZING!

Some dualities in IWTV:

Death vs life

Freedom vs connection

Nature vs society

Goodness vs evil

Mortality vs immortality

Enduring vs disintegration

I thought we could discuss any thematic dualities of note and how they may play into the form of the TV show and narrative?

Well that's all of my thoughts on this part... I say it as if I haven't just OUT-TOO-MUCH-ED Lestat himself with my (sadly also way less cool, contextually) too-much-ness!

HO HUM!

(Page numbers are UK current edition paperback.)

[icarusredwings]

Gonna have to reject your offer of He/ It cheif. Managment (Logan) would kill you for even inferring the idea.

Other people would come along and be like "What is that thing!??"

And you would just see Logan shift instantly from "Yeah ill give you a can of beans and a place to rest" to "Get the fuck off my property before you become his dinner" all while Wade is just... sitting there... behaving??

"He's not a THING! Thats my husband you asshole! And if you don't like it then fuck off!" Followed by Gabby going "Thats my papa you jerk!"

"It's just a zombie? You're married to a sombie!?"

"Again- HES my husband. I said till death do us part except death really isnt his thing so im stuck with him. You got a problem with that!?"

It makes Wade always very happy to be defended even though he surely could do it himself. For the most part things are pretty tame.

But he DOES clap a bit when logan mentions feeding him. 'Ooh yay, I get fed multiple times today' kind of way since Logan is very strict about resources, Wades is not allowed to just eat whatever because he'd probably just eat everything.

Sometimes if Logan forgets to feed him, He'll come to Logan and give him this specific whine, like a dog begging for bacon scraps only for Logan to feel terrible. "Oh my god Im sorry we were so busy today and- ... You're starving and you're not trying to bite me... you're trying so hard.. aw fuck wade.. im so sorry.. what am I going to do with you?"

"Mmm.... rawhrah?"

"Right. Feed you before you go insane. Got it."

Some days are like this. When he's clearly much more human. Being permitted cuddles and nuzzles, to play with gabby and to sleep in the bed. It's very rare that Logan lets him sleep in the bed. But it's the happiest day for wade when he is. And its not like they can even do anything (bro lost his dick miles ago and has no clue where the fuck it went but it just fell off somewhere and now hes a ken doll. This is great for those of you who like transfem wade COUGH COUGH)

But even if it didn't fall off its not like they could do anything anyway, They can't even kiss on the lips anymore. Logan has a theory that it's similar to rabies, where the infection has to be spread through saliva into an open cut or your mouth, etc.

So the nights he's allowed, they honestly just cuddle and stare at each other for a bit before sleeping. Usually, Wade is the little spoon because having Wade behind him is dangerous.

Wade heavily sees affection as a reward now, so getting to hug the girls is a massive thing for him, getting to sit there and watch gabby draw him is a big thing, hell Logan will sometimes even let Gabby play with wade out front because Wade has whole ass attacked other zombies whos tried to hurt gabby before.

One time Laura shot him in the head because gabby thought it would be a good idea to play "pretend zombie" and Wade didnt put two and two togerher that acting 'feral' as Logan calls it, outside with gabby would be a bad idea.

"What the fuck did you do that for!?"

"He was feral and going after gabs!!"

"Nu uh!! We were playing and you killed him for no reason! Youre so mean!"

Logan just sighs as gabby runs to her bed because it upsets her greatly when they have to 'keep wade in check' she fully understands that hes dangerous but deep down thats still her papa and watching your big sissy kill your papa is not something most 13 year olds would enjoy.

".. L.. you gotta stop wasting ammo. You know if it was really a code red that wouldn't do anything anyway. You have to decapitate him if you even want a flying chance. See?? Hes already up again... hi sweetie..."

Wade, whos sat up and now giving them a confused look of 'what did I do? 🥺'

"...arr Arawh"

"Im sorry, wade.." Laura squeaks out, still holding the shot gun. Shes just terrified of loosing gabby is all. To her, gabs is her responsibility.

"Rah awr rahrrr..."

"I know. She's sorry. She's just.. scared. No more playing that okay?"

"Mmh..😔"

There is infact some drift between laura and wade but neither of them mean it. Really they dont. If gabs is put of the picture Laura still smiles and talks to him but its like the moment gabby is near him Laura goes full protection mode and over reacts.

And FOR THE RECORD i have never seen the walking dead but its terrifying how accurate that picture is.

The longest Wade has been unconscious is probably 18 hours but this was before getting to the girls.

They have witnessed the exact thing you're saying, though. With Wade tied down in the shed, on his leash, and handcuffed, trying to talk to him, yelling at him to snap out of it because he's scaring the girls. Something different about feral wade from the other zombies though is it seems he's smarter, knawing on his handcuffs while most will just flail their arms helplessly. While his teeth dont do shit to the cuffs, its scary for Logan because it makes him think that one day he might actually have to find a way to kill him permanently.

He can undo locks, open cans, do many things that the others cant and he wants to believe its just Wades human part being stronger because in some weird way hes half mutant human and half zombie. A weird combo that makes him much different.

Laura, unlike gabby, too is terrified of one day wade going feral while their father is out collecting more supplies or hunting and she wont know what to do.

Wade isnt fast though. Thats the ONLY good thing. Hes smart, cant die, and is starving to death all the time. But hes slow. Infact he dosn't heal properly. His leg is half broken still from the last time it fell off and seems to barely be receptive to his brains nerves telling it to move so he lowkey drags it, only being able to use it to stand up right and take very small steps.

When he DOES finally come back hours later, He cries. Apologizes, begs for forgiveness, and most times is actually SCARED of Logan. While he hates it emotionally, he knows that logically it was a good thing for Wade to flinch away from him after being locked up.

A scared and fed zombie is a well-behaved zombie...

And before anyone comes here to say this is dehumanization of what ever else- HES LITERALLY NOT HUMAN ANYMORE.

Case closed. Besides I think wade would worry more about the fact of him trying to kill his kids then the fact hes leashed to a wall.

I dont CARE that it's November 9th and "Halloweens over" ITS MY BIRTHDAY MONTH ILL POST IF I WANT TOO

Anyway.

Thinking about apocolpse au.

Wade getting bitten by a zombie, Logan freaking out, Wade dying, and him coming back (Again)

"Didn't you just die?? I literally fucking burried you!!"

And wades like:

"Of course. Man, God REALLY hates you dosn't he?"

And he's bassically the same person except just saying, "Rahhah har ran re" (translation: I think the devil doesn't want me either)

"What?? Oh for fucks sake... tell me you're kidding.."

"Rah?" 🤔

"Great so now you stink more and you can't talk. Fucking lovely."

"Mmmmh..." 🥺 (would you still love me if I was a zombie?)

"*sighs, blushes and grumbles how insane this is and how much of a bad idea this is* Fine! Come on...."

"Raah!!" 😄

And sometimes his limbs fall off because I think it would be funny if you just saw him stop, turn around, pick up his arm and shove it back into place like a dislocated shoulder. (Marvel Magic)

But its very obvious that Wade is still consious and so logan leads him around, puts a leash on him, ties him up when he goes to sleep the first few nights so wade dosn't eat him, sometimes luring him with a piece of his thigh or telling him he'll feed him soon to make him behave.

The only thing about this resource wise is that it seems Wade is a bottomless pit, not ever able to get enough. It's like all the nutrients just pass right through him, so he can't get fed meals daily, but Logan will share at least one bite of his food. It makes Wade so happy and way more "wade like" than zombie.

Logan has learned that the hungrier Wade gets the worse it would be, snapping at logan a few times.

"Grr-"

"Aye! That's enough outta ya"

"GggRah!"

"Hey!! I said no! Bad! Bad wade!"

"Mmmh??"

"Bad!!"

"Mmh....rahah.."

"I forgive you. But stop trying to bite me. I feed you, don't I? I hold your hand and tell you that I love you?"

Wade is actually extremely friendly for a zombie (duh) and still yaps at logan except its nonsense. Logan tries hard to understand him and talk back.

He holds his hand sometimes, even lays next to him only to scold him if he gets too bitey. This is hard because wade already had a biting issue and seeing as he practically ate anything or anybody now it was more difficult.

"...aahh-"

"Wade- No."

"Ggr.. raahh"

"Wade! No! Bad."

"Mmmh..."

"Ill feed you tomarrow. Don't bite me mkay? You wanna hurt me?"

He shakes his head like a dog shaking off from a bath, or that ate a bee.

"Then don't bite me."

"Mmh? Mrah?"

"No. No kisses right now. Im still not even sure if thats safe.."

"Mmmh...🥺 ahrrah?"

"No, not even a tiny one."

"Mm...😔"

Until Logan grunts and pecks his hand. "There. Happy?"

"🙂‍↕️mh"

"Good."

Honestly Logan felt bad, pitited him. No matter what food he ate it wasnt enough substance to sustain him and sometimes Logan would wake up to find him eating a different zombie that made the mistake of trying to eat Logan.

You ever wake up in the morning, lose your zombie boyfriend, call for him only to walk outside and see him knawing on some poor chaps arm like a happy puppy who found a chicken leg? Logan has. Many times. And he wishes his phone would charge so he could take a picture of it but unfortunately theres no electricity in the post apocalypse world.

This being said Logan is like- THE perfect guy for apocalypse au because he can smell everything and hear anyone before they even get to you, he has better wilderness survival skills then anyone I know and he'll never NOT have a weapon on him because of his claws. The only downside is that he's tired easily, needs a lot of food, and would lowkey be withdrawing from his tabccao and alchool, therefore very moody.

"Stupid fucking apocalypse having to happen when im fucking alive!! Why can't I just NOT live through ONE major historical event! Is that too fucking much to ask? One damn decade where everything is fine and dandy and- WADE! Get your ass away from that!! It's radioactive!! For fucks sake!"

"Rahahrah?"

"NO!! You can not become Spiderman! That's not how that works!"

"Aawr..😔"

The whole thing is they're on a quest to find Laura and Gabby, because when everything went to shit, they were on a cabin trip and now Logans brain is itching because he dosn't know where his babies are and its driving him insane. Once he finds them, they're gonna shack up somewhere with food and animals to hunt, and hes gonna make a little shed outside for Wade to sleep because he'll kill him if he bites one of the girls.

He dosnt care that much about himself really and he hates himself deep down for not being able to trust wade anymore but even wade dosnt trust wade, sometimes wandering off on purpose, staying about 30 feet away from him at all times, growling and giving Logan that glazed over look of unconsiousness. The only good thing about this, though, is after he removes himself from the idea of hurting Logan (because if logaj were to become infected - HA! Your all fucked. Utterly fucked. The whole humanoid species would go extinct because he'd kill anything that moved) he feels more trusting of him and it's not uncommon for them to hug after either. Afterall Wade- Some how???- is still wade and is very affectionate and sensitive when its not returned.

This whole thing also makes him think worse about himself, kicking reflective objects or staring at himself in a shop window in utter shock and disgust with a face of 'thats me..?' While logans raiding the place for supplies.

Did you know zombies can cry? Well, Wade could. Not a lot, only able to get a bit of liquid from dehydration, but sometimes Logan will catch him just... sitting there.. crying. Upset with himself for being bit. Upset with himself for trying to bite logan all the time. Upset at how ugly he is. Upset that he's starving all the time. Upset that he can't even talk to anyone, and Logan just has to guess what he's saying 90% of the time. Bro is literally

When they DO find Laura and Gabby, the girls are doing great. Laura was going to blow wades head off until Gabby ran in the shot, hugging him instantly, only to be ripped away.

"Of course my dad is the weirdo married to a zombie." Laura grunts, but is secrelty happy that wade is still 'alive'

Gabby, being as young as she is, thinks it's so SICK that her dad is a zombie now, giggling when he talks to her and holding his hand. She's not allowed near him for long, and not at all by herself, but Gabby bassically becomes Wades number one supporter, defending him when he messes up and snaps at laura.

"He's just hungry!! He's not bad! It's not bad to be hungry!" She'll say. "You wouldn't kill me if I was hungry.." she tells her bigger, more survival oriented sister whos suggested putting wade out of his misery, for his own sake. "I tried that... he found me again 3 days later." Logan tells her with a pang in his chest. It had taken everything in him to kill him the first time, and sobbed himself to sleep the next 2 days. By the third when he noticed Wade following him from a distance he couldn't believe it.

Not even the apocalypse could keep them away from each other..

[moonselune]

So. Minthara has cut content where she was pregnant and some theories it could have been orinz, I know youtend to do character x reader but is there a chance you could do her x the characters and them handling it, if not all the characters then Karlach and Halsin as I thibk halsins reaction would be interesting and Karlach is the one person who can 'fix' Minthara

Ooo so I did just do this with Karlach and Halsin as little snippets because I was struggling creatively with these pairings, but I hope you enjoy it !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara x Karlach

Minthara sat in silence, fingers tracing the edge of the table as she waited for Karlach to return. The tavern was warm, bustling with laughter and the clink of mugs, but all she could feel was a cold tension settling like a stone in her stomach. Telling Karlach about her pregnancy—one that tied her fate to the cursed bloodline of Bhaal—had haunted her thoughts for days. She could hardly imagine Karlach’s reaction; the fierce, fiery woman had an irrepressible heart, but everyone had their limits.

When Karlach finally returned, cheeks flushed from the cold, she greeted Minthara with her usual infectious grin. Minthara took a steadying breath. The truth couldn’t wait any longer.

“Karlach, we need to talk.” Her voice came out steadier than she felt, but Karlach’s smile faded, replaced with a look of gentle concern.

“What’s wrong?” Karlach asked, moving closer and pulling out a chair beside her. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. You know that, right?”

Minthara looked down, bracing herself. “I’m… pregnant,” she admitted, voice barely a whisper. She finally forced herself to meet Karlach’s gaze, waiting for the inevitable shock, or even rejection.

Karlach blinked, taking it in. Her gaze flicked between Minthara’s face and her stomach as she processed the news, and her eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?” A broad smile spread across her face, catching Minthara entirely off guard. “Minthara, that’s amazing!”

Minthara’s own expression of worry didn’t shift. “Did you not hear the part where I said it’s Bhaal’s child?”

Karlach’s face softened, and she reached across the table, placing a warm hand over Minthara’s. “I heard you. But… look, that doesn’t matter to me. So it’s a Bhaalspawn, sure, but that doesn’t mean this little one has to follow that path. That’s up to us. Up to you.”

The sheer optimism in Karlach’s voice felt surreal, and Minthara looked away, frowning. “You’re being naïve. This isn’t just any child. They’ll carry the taint of murder, of darkness. The blood of Bhaal doesn’t simply wash away.”

Karlach’s grip tightened, bringing her hand to rest on Minthara’s stomach, warm and steady. “Minthara, you’ve got a chance here to do something incredible. You’ve been given an opportunity to take control of that darkness and turn it into something good. I know it sounds like a lot, and maybe even impossible, but I’ve seen how strong you are.” She chuckled softly. “You were strong enough to get through to me, and that’s saying something.”

Minthara’s eyes softened despite herself. “You’re… not going to cast me out?”

“Are you kidding? No way!” Karlach’s expression was one of fierce protectiveness. “I’ll be here every step of the way, no matter what. We’re in this together, yeah? I think this kiddo is going to need all the love and guidance they can get. And that means keeping you close.” She leaned in, brushing her lips over Minthara’s forehead. “We’ve got this.”

Minthara exhaled slowly, allowing the tiniest sliver of relief to creep in. “You say that now,” she murmured, leaning into Karlach’s touch, “but this won’t be easy. Bhaal’s influence… it’s always there. And I have my own share of darkness, Karlach. You’re asking me to be… better. Kinder. That’s never been my way.”

Karlach smiled, undeterred. “Maybe not until now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn. You don’t have to be perfect, Minthara; you just have to want something better for this kid. And maybe… for yourself, too. We’re gonna teach this little one that they can be their own person, not just some pawn to a god.”

Minthara couldn’t help the faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re a fool for thinking it’ll be that simple.”

“Maybe I am,” Karlach admitted, eyes gleaming with her trademark optimism. “But I think deep down, you want this too. A chance to prove everyone wrong, to make a family on your terms. Maybe it’s not easy, but I believe in you.”

Minthara swallowed hard, emotion tightening her throat as she absorbed Karlach’s words. Here she was, a former sworn follower of Bhaal, being offered a second chance she never thought possible. Karlach’s love felt like sunlight, fierce and unyielding, melting away the cold armor she’d spent a lifetime building. Slowly, she nodded, a fragile hope blossoming somewhere deep within.

“Then I suppose…” she started, clearing her throat, “I’ll have to try.” A faint, wry smile played at her lips. “Not that you’d ever give me much choice in the matter.”

Karlach grinned, eyes bright with warmth. “Nope. You’re stuck with me now, Minthara. And together? We’re going to make this work."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara x Halsin

As the dawn’s first light crept into the forest clearing, Minthara stood beneath a towering oak, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, eyes narrowed as she watched the rays filter through the leaves. She had spent the past several days agonizing over what she had to tell Halsin. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, the tension evident in the set of her shoulders. Her dark hair was pulled back, and her face—typically cold and unreadable—bore a rare vulnerability.

When she finally saw him approaching, a familiar ache grew in her chest. He moved with a kind of calm grace, his steps sure and grounded, a reminder of his connection to nature itself. Halsin had always had a steadying effect on her, but today, that only made her feel more unmoored. She inhaled sharply, steeling herself, as his golden-brown eyes caught hers, warm and inviting as he closed the distance between them.

“Minthara,” he greeted, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to resonate within the forest itself. “You asked to speak privately?” He tilted his head, a small, kind smile gracing his face. That smile, genuine and without expectation, left her feeling unexpectedly raw.

“Yes, I did,” she replied, her voice low but firm. She took a steadying breath, determined not to let her own turmoil seep through. “There’s something you need to know.”

Halsin’s expression softened, his eyes searching her face with that same unyielding compassion that had drawn her to him in the first place. “I’m listening,” he said, his voice laced with a gentle patience that only made this harder.

“I am… pregnant,” she forced out, her gaze unwavering as she watched him for any hint of recoil or anger. “And before you ask—the child is Bhaal’s. A Bhaalspawn. My past… my actions… have condemned me to this fate.”

She braced herself, expecting his reaction to be cold or calculating, perhaps even a rejection. Instead, Halsin’s brow furrowed, not in anger but in quiet concern. He stepped closer, his large hands instinctively moving toward her before pausing, as though he feared she might withdraw.

“Minthara…” he began, his voice low and compassionate, a hint of sorrow coloring his words. “You’ve been carrying this alone?”

His response caught her off guard, her steely demeanor faltering under his warmth. “I didn’t expect… sympathy,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “A Bhaalspawn is a dark omen, something that should be met with disdain. It’s not something any druid would want close to them.”

“I am no stranger to difficult decisions or facing darkness,” he replied, his gaze holding hers firmly. “This child—your child—does not define you. Nor does it determine what we build together, should you choose to let me be part of it.”

The words were simple, but Minthara felt them strike deeper than she’d anticipated. She was used to cold pragmatism, to alliances based on strength and utility, not… this. Not kindness, not acceptance. Her fingers twitched involuntarily, and she averted her gaze, feeling a strange tightness in her throat.

“Halsin,” she said, her voice sharper than intended, masking the uncertainty bubbling inside her. “This child… it could carry Bhaal’s essence. It could bring untold darkness. Are you truly so quick to invite that into your life?”

Halsin’s face remained gentle, understanding. He nodded thoughtfully, his gaze never wavering from hers. “I don’t pretend to know what the future holds, nor what burdens this child might bring. But if you are willing, Minthara, I would stand with you. Whatever comes, we face it together.”

His words unraveled something inside her, a soft vulnerability she had long kept locked away. Minthara’s expression flickered, momentarily betraying her confusion and fear. She stepped back, retreating from his touch, her arms tightening around herself as though bracing for a blow.

“Why, Halsin?” Her voice was strained, bewildered. “Why are you doing this? I am not… gentle or kind. I am not the kind of woman who builds a home or raises children. And this is no ordinary child.”

Halsin let her words settle, his gaze calm and unwavering. “Because I believe in the potential for redemption, Minthara. Because I see strength in you, and I believe that no child is born defined by the sins of its parents.” He reached for her hand, taking it in his own, his thumb brushing gently across her knuckles. “And because I care for you.”

The weight of his words struck her harder than any weapon. She opened her mouth, searching for something cutting to deflect, some bitter remark to distance herself from his kindness. But nothing came. Her throat felt tight, her vision hazy as she met his gaze, her mask slipping for just a moment.

“I don’t know how to accept this,” she murmured, barely audible. “I’m not used to… someone like you.”

“Then take it slow,” he replied gently, his hand warm around hers. “There’s no need to have all the answers. For now, let me share this burden with you.”

Minthara nodded, a mixture of relief and fear swirling within her. She took a shuddering breath, her walls cracking just enough to let a hint of vulnerability seep through. As she looked into Halsin’s eyes, she felt a flicker of something foreign, something she had not felt in years—hope.

And as his arms wrapped around her, she allowed herself to lean into him, if only for a moment.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you guys enjoyed this! -Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[soft-crimson]

I'm tired of carrying this stone by myself

[twinstxrs]

the gorgug-porter conversation is interesting to me because like. yea for the overwhelming majority of the conversation porter’s being shitty & trying to fit gorgug into a box that gorgug just does not fit into by trying to make gorgug’s relationship with his rage more focused on the aggression aspect of it. but then there’s also this specific thing that brennan brought up again in the ap, which is that gorgug’s relationship with his rage is wholly “this is a tool i use to protect my friends.” which isn’t a bad thing! but that’s his Whole relationship with it, & gorgug seems to place next to no value on his rage in relationship to himself. which is problematic, because it’s first & foremost his rage.

being raised in a household with a sort of toxic positivity largely meant that, whether or not it was his parents’ intention, gorgug internalized the message that more traditionally “negative” emotions such as anger are the wrong response to something. part of the reason he prioritizes his artificing is probably because it’s “fixing” things. in comparison to being a barbarian, which gorgug associates with “breaking” things. good vs. bad behavior, in his eyes.

it’s a totally unacceptable bar to measure a 16 y/o by, but i do think part of porter’s reasoning for not letting gorgug multiclass is him recognizing that gorgug generally does not value anger as a valid emotional response to something, at the very least for himself. & that directly conflicts with what being a barbarian is, because whether you like it or not, that rage is what fuels you. but again, barring a kid from pursuing something they deeply care about in part (not entirely, porter has a lot of more bullshit reasons) because of their fundamental values & world outlook is crazy.

so yes, 98% of porter’s reasoning is pretty shitty, immature, rife with a toxic view that there’s only one proper way to access rage, & generally not a good thing to do as a teacher, but also within that reasoning is the 2% of ‘there is a fundamental part of yourself that you only value if you can use it to take care of other people & you need to accept that as something that can take care of you, too.’ but that’s something to discuss with a therapist or a guidance counselor, not something that should hugely impact gorgug’s academic future.

[one-eternal-sigh]

yk what whenever I see a post about andy leaving it always gets me thinking about how much she truly gave up rejecting her family’s beliefs, and with how much she had to endure being sneered upon as a disgrace among purebloods but also how it probably made narcissa more bitter when she found it out and andy confessed/ was in a situation where she had to reveal her relationship because there was no way around it anymore. I think for cissa the fact that her sister had chosen ted over family, over her own sisters was probably the part which really stung.

I mean like I do feel like narcissa was extra dismissive of ted because she couldn’t comprehend the fact that andy chose some muggleborn over the assuredness of the life they already had with people who she believed would “truly” look out for her and protect her best interests. like, blood purity definitely was involved at some extent because they were literally raised in a family with strong ideals about it.

But also? I think at the core of it narcissa felt betrayed because of the gravity of Andy’s decision and the repercussions that came with it and how even despite that, andy had STILL gone through with the decision of throwing that part of her life away for another love (or in cissa’s eyes, over the love of her sisters the love that was supposed to be their one solace through the grim times of war) knowing full well what she was putting on the line.

and when faced with a choice she chose to leave that constant and doesn’t that just hurt much more?

Knowing she chose to leave. Knowing she chose something over them when they were each other’s safe space. Actively witnessing the war tearing them apart, the rifts in their previously unfaltering trust, when they were supposed to rely on each other to get through this. Witnessing what Bella was doing to herself in her thirst for power as a means to gain control, more autonomy, witnessing the cross fire between them and being trapped in this hateful middle place of still believing that they were the only ones who could look out for each other as purebloods but simultaneously just hating the extremes, still valuing the comfort that came with their bond

but then having that shattered with the knowledge that it wasn’t just bella’s tilting at extremes and inviting the worst parts of the darkness directly into their lives that was endangering their relationship but also that andy had lied and didn’t intend to choose them at all.

(continuing it into the tags because I need to yap 😭)

Family tree (intro) = Andromeda 

These crosses all over my body, remind me of who I used to be 

Andromeda always had scars, whether mental or physical, that she couldn’t heal. She didn’t know why, not even magic worked. Everyday when she looked in the mirror, she saw them, and in those scars she saw her family, and her old life. 

Jesus can always reject his father 

Andromeda escaped them, escaped their politics, their life, she had truly escaped them and rejected who she could’ve been. 

But he cannot escape his mothers blood 

Yet Andromeda couldn’t get their stain off of her, they were always going to be with her.  Toujours Pur. She would still never be pure. In her own standards, and in theirs. 

He’ll scream and try and wash it off of his fingers 

In the first of weeks when she had escaped she could feel them everywhere, hear them everywhere. She tried so hard to forget everything she had been taught, and it wasn’t supposed to be that hard. She was stained by them anyways, she couldn’t just leave without some bits of them clinging onto her. 

But he’ll never escape what he’s made up of 

Andromeda could hear their voices, yelling at her. It was even worse because Bellatrix and Narcissa tried so hard to go up to her during school. At some point they had given up, just shit-talking her to others. She couldn’t ever escape them it seemed. Even years and years after, the Family Name still got to her. They didn’t know her as Andromeda Tonks, they knew her as the blood-traitor, Andromeda Black. 

The Fates already fucked me sideways

She would never get a normal life because of them. Andromeda had escaped their house, but not them. It had seemed like Fate was always destined to hurt her. 

He’ll laugh and say ‘you know I raised you better than this’ 

She became the example of ‘not pure’, the example of a bad person in their eyes. Regulus and Sirius were taught not to be like her, and for Sirius she was the example to look up to. Draco never knew of her, until later, and still then Narcissa told him not to be like her. 

Than leave me hanging so they all can laugh at me

Andromeda became the laughing stock of the Sacred 28, the one who tried to escape. She became the laughing stock of the Black Family too, they all laughed at her attempts to leave them, knowing that she would never truly escape them. She became the laughing stock of the school, every pure blood made fun of her, luckily it was only her last year. She lost all her friends, everyone. All she had was Ted.  —-

I know this is a bit wordy but I tried lol 😭 I’ve had this in my head for sooo long and I finally wrote it down !!

[possamble]

Thank you for writing the (messy but neccessary) farcille breakdown. You handled it so wonderfully aaaaaaaah!! Like the other anon I was wondering how far "rock bottom" could get (because chapter 4 already felt pretty rock bottom) but. Yeah. That's pretty rock bottom, huh. The tragedy of loving someone but the other person not understanding <- this applies to both of them.

I think it was really neat how you flipped the question on who's reaching out to who with the academy flashback and the final scene with Namari, because... Marcille clinging onto Falin really is just a reversal of their academy days, isn't it? To everyone who met them after they reunited, it was always Marcille chasing after Falin, but to those who were at the magic academy, it was Falin chasing after Marcille. From picking flowers and berries to eat together, inviting Marcille out to see a play, and generally monopolizing her free time... I'm sure any of them would say the same thing as Namari, but in reverse. No wonder everyone thinks Marcille is just another friend to Falin. They weren't there to witness her pining /j. Idk!! I was rereading the chapter and the academy flashback girl was like "why do you hang off of Marcille so much" and I screamed to myself, "hey wait. HEY WAIT."