#ur trapped here with me i have locked the doors.

[theriverbeyond]

sometimes you really are severely deficient in the Vitamin and that vitamin is HRT

[luveline]

if you are looking for spencer and bombshell requests, what about the first time a girl flirts with spencer after they start dating, but bombshell is fully secure because she knows her worth and understands that he’s a catch? if you need more ideas i can squeeze my brain really hard

love ur brain pls keep squeezing it <3 fem!reader

You’re the cheesy girlfriend no one expects you to be. You change your phone contact for Spencer to ‘My Sweet Boyfriend’ with a heart, you hold his hand in stupid places (though you’d done that before, sometimes), you bring him coffee, you fluster when he kisses your cheek no matter your disposition —you're overwhelmed in the honeymoon phase, and everybody’s surprised. 

“That’s not very cool of you,” Morgan says, having noticed your ducked head, your smile dripping with a private pleasure and your cheek still shining with Spencer’s quick kiss. He’s gone to find plastic cutlery. 

“I’m not that cool when it comes to Spencer,” you say. 

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” 

Morgan is as pleased for you both finally getting together as anyone, even if he finds it foreign. It is weird to suddenly be openly in love with each other, and likely stranger for the team to see you in anything that isn’t total calm collection. 

“He’s so lovely.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Morgan says, more earnest now as he slaps a rolled sandwich down in front of you. “He’s a catch. I asked for no mayonnaise, was I supposed to do that?” 

Emily tucks her seat in next to yours. “He’s totally trapped by that secretary again, I hate to tell you.” 

You turn around. 

“Why would you tell her that?” Morgan asks. 

“What?” 

You peer out of the office door, where Spencer’s being chatted to by a stunningly attractive secretary. She has dark skin and darker hair, alluring almond eyes that light her sweetheart face with a bright charm. “Oh, she’s getting prettier,” you say. 

You’ve got Spencer Reid locked in. Nothing in you doubts that he’s currently infatuated with you. You don’t even care when he laughs at her joke, or when she dips her head bashfully toward him. 

“You better go and get your man,” Morgan says. 

“What for?” 

“She’s flirting hard,” JJ says. She’s only just looked up from her phone. “He’s gonna start blushing.” 

As if. You turn back to the table, unwrapping the paper from your sandwich with a happy sigh. Spencer looks so cute when he blushes, his cheeks turn pink and he smiles like he’s being tickled, it’s adorable. If that pretty secretary wants to do the hard work for you, it’s her prerogative. He’s your boyfriend. 

“I don’t need to do anything, he’s fine,” you say. 

You’re cutting your sandwich in half when you feel a presence behind your back. A familiar hand closes around your shoulder, a voice in your ear, “Thanks for nothing.” 

You giggle at his embarrassed tone, turning your face up to his, immediately delighted by his pink-tinged cheeks and neck. “You looked like you were having fun!” 

“You’re not gonna pretend to be mad?” he asks, leaning over you to open your sandwich. He pulls out a sad looking tomato and a similarly wilted slice of lettuce and closes it again. “Did you want a drink? I can’t believe you.” 

“Spencer, did you want me to come and get you?” you tease. 

“It would’ve been nice of you. Drink?” 

You laugh again, tugging him down by the wrist. “No, Spencer, I don’t want a drink, just sit down. What was I supposed to do? I’m not gonna pull her off of you.” 

“But why?” he asks, nearly not quite pouting. “She asked me if it was too hot in here for me.” He sits in the chair beside you, his hand dropping to the soft inside of your thigh as he leans in imploringly. “If you cared about me at all–”

Everybody laughs, including yourself. He’s clearly joking, and for once nobody on the team mistakes it for ineptitude, which seems to cheer him up. He gives your leg a rather bold squeeze considering who he is and where you are, and again when you gesture for him to lift his face to plant a kiss on the ridge of his jaw. “I do care about you, Spencer. Sorry I wasn’t jealous. Should we try again?” 

He turns your face away from your coworkers, eye to eye. “You’re making fun of me.” 

His hand trails to your elbow. “No,” you say, your skin tingling under his touch. 

“I don’t believe you. And I know you need a drink, they didn’t send your bottle of water. I didn’t manage to find those forks, either.” 

He gets up again. He hasn’t so much as glanced at his own food, patting your back in a promise that he’ll return before he edges out of the office and into the station’s bullpen. You take a smug bite of your sandwich. You can’t hide it.

“Told you,” you say once you’ve swallowed. You hadn’t needed to do anything, and you really aren’t worried about other women. “He likes me a lot.” 

“Understatement of the year.” 

You send Morgan a loving smile. When you glance over your shoulder, Spencer’s taking the long way through the office to the water cooler.

[awxcoffeexno]

the patient - part 1

toxic!loganhowlett x reader

like real people do

series masterlist | fic masterlist | part 2 >>

summary: logan's in love w jean, ur in love w logan, and he comes to your bed every night that he cannot spend in hers.

content: more angst, the awxcoffeexno special. terribly, terribly toxic relationship between reader and logan. they both need copious amounts of therapy. this one-shot takes place in the x-mansion where reader is a student of the professor and logan is... well, logan. reader also has powers, you'll learn of them as you go.

warnings: all mentions of jean are actually referring to the phoenix who is extremely mentally unstable, logan mandhandles the reader quite a bit but never hurts her, the relationship portrayed is horribly toxic.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: wowowow im so happy the world is FINALLY sharing in my obsession with logan, he's such a cutie patootie. this fic isn't my best but it's an idea I've had for soooo long that i just had to have a crack at it.

you can sense him coming 3 minutes before he's made the decision to seek you out.

you sit up straight at your desk, eyes flicking down to the research paper you've been working on with the professor. you decide to get the last paragraph in, fingers scrambling across the keyboard to finish your thoughts before logan makes you forget everything.

and then he's at your door, throwing it open without knocking.

"good." he grunts. "you're here."

stepping inside, he locks the door and turns to you. and fuck, you hate this. you hate when he's like this, you hate everything about this arrangement.

well, almost everything. how could you possibly hate the way he walks over to you and leans down, brows set in a deep frown, pulling you up by your jaw? how could you possibly hate the desperation, the need, in his eyes as he he flutters them shut, pressing his lips to yours? how could you possibly hate the smell of wood and tobacco and... logan... as he slips his hand off your jaw to painfully wrap around your throat?

but when you slip into his mind, quiet as a cat, making sure not to give your presence away, his thoughts are swirling mostly with one person. and it's decidedly not you.

"no," you gasp into his warm mouth. "no, logan."

he grunts in protest, moving his mouth from yours to your neck.

"logan, please..." you try again, pushing your hands between you both. you reach for his cheek but grabs your hand in a vice grip and yanks away from you. he will not let you touch his cheek, he will not let you use your powers on him.

"what?!" he snaps. "what do you want."

he hardly even notices his own actions as he uses the same hand to also ensnare your other wrist, squeezing tight to let you know not to even attempt wriggling free.

you swallow thickly and look into his glowering eyes. "you know i don't like it when you... when it isn't about me. when it's about... her. i can't stand it. it feels... wro–"

and his free hand is wrapped around your jaw. you've done it again. you read his mind without his permission after years of him telling you off about it, years of him telling you to "back the fuck off, bub."

but you can't help it. you do it all the time. he lets jean do it. why should you not be allowed? why are you always lesser to him than she will ever be?! especially when she hurts him so much he has to come to you to lick his wounds clean?

jean's... broken. you're perfectly fit. jean's hardly ever there to give him what he needs, you're always by his side, before he even knows he'll need you. it's just how your powers work, and you don't hear him complaining about using the future for his advantage. and yet all he does is think about her. even when he's here to fuck you.

"logan, how about you let me go and go back to carrot top?" you say, evening your voice out in that way you do when you know you can talk people into things with your hand on their cheek. but your hands are both trapped in his crushing grip and there's no way he's going to let you move them.

he's glaring at you. gauging you. and you slip into his thoughts again – yup, he's dreaming of ways to kill you. you snort. well, at least you're on his mind now.

"get the fuck out of my head." he growls and lets you go roughly, shoving you back. you stumble back but hold your ground. he would never actually push you hard enough to hurt.

that's the easiest part about loving logan. feeling safe even when it hurts.

you take a deep breath and restart, voice still even.

"logan?"

you watch his shoulders sag in defeat as he leans against the window sill and sighs.

"logan, i... i just..."

he looks back at you, eyes sluggish. tired. "you just what?"

"i don't like being your... stress ball." you sit down on the bed, massaging your temple because you cannot read his thoughts anymore. he's spending a significant amount of his energy blocking you out.

"don't hear you complainin' when i'm balls deep in you most nights."

you cringe at the crudeness and rub your face. he stands up a little straighter at your reaction, having realised over the years that all your anxious tics reside in your face. the way you rub it, the way you harshly massage your temples, the way you chew on your lip and pull the little baby hairs out of your hairline. and now you're all that is on his mind.

he carefully pads over and crouches down in front of you. eyes softer, way gentler. his hands slip around your wrists again and tighten but this time his grip is friendly, comforting. he's trying to ground you.

"me on your mind, sweetheart?" he says, voice heartbreakingly soft. you simply nod so he continues, "mmm... i hurt you today?"

a lot, you want to say. all you ever want is her. your jean. the jean you'd do anything for even when she's trying to drag the animal out of you and turn you into a beast, logan.

"a little." you settle.

he shifts both your wrists into his left hand and slips his right palm onto your cheek. "how can i make it better?"

you swallow thickly. you have to choose your words wisely. none of your powers would be useful right now, so you lean in and kiss him first.

"i'm scared." you sniffle. "scared of losing you to her completely. you love her, lo. so much you let her chop your mind up into little pieces and put it back together every single day."

his eyes fall in a rare moment of vulnerability so you don't let go of your momentum.

"she's hurting you so much," you whisper, aching to reach out for his cheek and take it all away. "i cannot keep fixing the wounds that she creates."

his eyes snap up to you at that. "well, if you don't want this–"

"no! that's not what i'm saying, james! fuck, i want you! i need you. but it's all i've become to you," you whine with a pathetic sob. "a way to fall asleep at night. a means to an end. a solace from all the pain."

"when you know that that's what this is... that you can take my pain away..." he looks at you, his dark eyes accusatory.

and fuck, what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? what kind of doctor turns a patient away? a patient so desperate for care?

so you close your eyes and let the ache wash over you. several minutes pass in silence and he starts to get up.

"you're right," you finally mumble.

when you open your eyes he's still looking at you.

"i'm sorry. i don't know why i did what i did. of course i want to help."

he's immediately scooping you up and lying you down. logan's easy like that. he never asks too many questions.

he kisses you, softer than he ever has before and starts working his way down your chin and neck and... how does it always end like this for you? with you giving in and him having his way with you. with you under him, tears in your eyes because you do not want him to stop but it hurts so badly to be his second. his second priority, his second thought, his second need.

will you ever be able to deny him?

"open your mouth, sugar." he coos, slipping two fingers past your chewed up lips to let you wet them.

your eyes roll back into your head as you suck on his digits, body reacting in tandem with his.

no, there is no way you would ever deny him anything.

"logan?" you whisper when his pulls the fingers out.

"hmm?"

"i love you."

"i know."

--

i have once again risen from dead. i hope you liked this xxxxxxxxxxx ily

love, d <3

--

part 2 >>

[kumkissed]

Homebody Reader x (Pouty)PlugOny

"Ma, why you always locked up in this house?" Ony quips as he enters your apartment, finding you seated against your couch watching one of your shows. He looks over at the TV, shaking his head with a smile as he notices you're watching one of your K-dramas. "Ain't nothing better than being in the comfort of your own home baby.”

Ony pouts at your response eyeing your place, clean and comfy just how you like it. The scent of vanilla flushes his nose as he gets closer to you, eventually laying his head on your lap “But ma, I want you to come ride wit me for this drop.” You chuckle, caressing his face while still watching your show “Boy you know I don’t do that shit, better act like you got some sense.”

He sucks his teeth, making you raise your brown hand harshly grabbing his face “We got a problem baby? You know better pa.””Nah ma, we good m’sorry.” You release his face, focusing your attention back to your show. Ony swears his dick is about to jump out of his sweats, he attempts slide his tatted hand down pants before he’s stopped by a soft voice “don’t even think about it pa, we gone handle it later.” Before he can even respond he gets a notification—

Connie(5:38pm): Tf u doin, get ur ass down here bro

A small whine escapes Ony, as he rises up off of you getting his stuff together “Ma, cmon plea—“Ony…you know I don’t like that trap shit.” You get up, pulling him into a hug placing kisses all over his face “Mmcht, you jus tryna stay up in this house.” He mumbles causing you too chuckle “That too pa, but once you get back I’ll have a treat for u baby I promise.” Ony smiles pearly whites shinning against his chocolate skin, he gives you a kiss before heading to the door “Alright ma, you promised me that shit too.” With that he leaves, leaving you to prepare his treat for while he’s on the road.

Me(5:46pm): [ Sent image ]

Me(5:46pm): For u pa 🩵

You receive a message back immediately

onyy🖤(5:46pm): When I get back that shit is mine ma.

You chuckle placing your phone down on the couch, continuing your show, enjoying the comfort of your home.

✯

first post still figuring out layouts, thinkin abt focusin I’m on this trope! Ty for readin babes

[kiss-me-cill-me]

i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭

also ps i love u and ur writing !!!

This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3

Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.

Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity

A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.

Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.

You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.

Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle. 

Broken.

You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.

A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.

You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body. 

The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…

Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.

“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”

“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”

“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself. 

His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.

“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.

Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.

“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat. 

The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other? 

Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.

“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.

Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.

“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”

Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.

You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.

Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.

So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.

“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.

“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally. 

The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.

“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.

That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you. 

He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering. 

But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.

“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”

“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”

You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.

“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”

“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”

The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.

“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.

You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.

“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.

But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.

With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Remember when I used to do this for you?”

Crane stiffened slightly beside you.

“Things have changed since then,” he muttered. 

Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.

His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.

“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”

“You don’t.”

Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.

“I do. And I will. Always.”

You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.

“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”

“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“You can’t be.”

Always so stubborn.

“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”

Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror. 

“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”

“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”

“Stop.”

“Don’t you remember? We promised-”

“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.

You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.

“But they don’t have to,” you breathed. 

Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.

“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.

“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”

“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”

“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”

You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours. 

At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands. 

Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.

“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”

Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”

Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.

“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”

“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”

Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”

“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”

“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”

“Stop.”

Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.

“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.

“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”

“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”

“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”

“Jesus Christ…”

Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.

“This. You must remember this.” 

Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.

“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”

How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him. 

The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together. 

The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.

Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.

“Of course I remember.”

Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”

Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.

“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”

“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”

You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable. 

You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.

“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”

“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”

He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly. 

His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out. 

Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.

Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there. 

Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.

If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave. 

You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what. 

There would be no getting away.

This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE

[whalesforhands]

HAII NYV!! hope ur doing well!!

tbh,, i’ve been thinking. How do you think SSS trio would feel about Dyf!mc going the same path suguru did? (Yk, seeing riko die and going spiraling to the point that she leaves jjt n stuffs,,) Do you think they would try and beg her to stay? Or would they let her go willingly because they’ve always wanted the best for Mc? Also, when they see each other after 11 years, Who sees her first?

tbh ive js been having brain rot of dyf so like…a million AUs are coming to me about it at once LMFAOO. but hope ure doing well, love ur writing xx

tw: yandere

lol why does ur spelling of name perfectly describe how it’s meant to be pronounced

what makes you think you’re even allowed to leave them behind like that? what makes you think you’re even able to leave them so freely?

you won’t survive out there on your own, are you just trying to die quicker? are you just trying to make them suffer just as much as you?

you’re in pain. they know, they know. you’ll get food placed outside your room’s locked door, have all 3 of them talk to you from outside too. sometimes it’s all 3 of them hanging around, sometimes it’s just 2, sometimes it’s just 1.

it’s gojo satoru that has had enough of your slump, kicking your door down with little to no effort as you flinch from shock, hiding under your blankets when you feel the dip of your mattress, and a head landing atop of your cocooned self, letting out a disappointed sigh.

“I didn’t wanna do that, ya know? You’re making things hard.”

it’s only then that he would lay down next to your form, an arm over your waist and spooning you from behind as you start to break down even harder, taking his intrusion and hoarding the comfort he gave you in this moment.

and your door’s been broken so many times you decided to just leave it unlocked… letting him and the others come and go as they please, letting him wrap his long arms around you at every given chance, letting him kiss you on the forehead every morning he gets to spend in school, telling you that he’ll be back from a mission soon.

maybe that was how it started.

“There are no missions for you, (last name).” Yaga’s scratching his head as he flips through his clipboard, carefully scanning the words.

“W-what? Why?” Your arms are shaky as you hug a Baby Panda close to yourself, soft purrs emanating from him as you pet him mindlessly. You’ve been loitering around in the campus for… Close to 3 months now.

“I’m quite confused as well. There haven’t been any curses within your grade level as of recently—“ He pauses as he flips through more papers, eyes narrowing behind dark sunglasses. “There just isn’t—“

“Then m-may I take one above my grade? T-that would put me on grounds for promotion, right?”

“You can, but there aren’t any sorcerers available to invigilate and recommend you for promotion anytime soon. Earliest I could find one is—“ The incessant flipping of papers stop.

“In about 6 months.”

ieiri shoko lets you roam around the school campus, watching you, talking to you, trying to improve your mental health. she prods you to speak your mind, convinces you that the world outside was the one that was going insane, that it wasn’t you that felt trapped, felt cornered in here.

“The campus is where you can be safe from such things. Don’t sweat it.”

and you believe her. why wouldn’t you? she’s your beloved shoko. shoko who teaches you how to do first aid when she notices how lost and listless you’re becoming, who teaches you how to treat wounds, how to stitch up open cuts, how to stop internal bleeding… all just to take up your time. she’s patient with you, holding your hands, letting you take tea breaks with her… it’s peaceful with her. you’re at ease.

so much better than being out on field, right?

geto suguru takes his time with you. he reads your favourite manga with you, asks you about the novels you have been eyeing and wanting to buy, talks about the soba noodles he had on that one trip to nagoya... hell, he’s the one who cooks food for you and helps you clean your room when he thinks you’re getting sloppy.

“Let me do it for you, okay? You’re not looking well enough to do it on your own.”

maybe that was when you thought to yourself that, maybe, just maybe… you didn’t want to leave this place.

though, if you still have some fight in you…

out of all three of them, the one who would most probably fold to your whims and let you leave is suguru. maybe when you go limp in his arms, break down crying into his chest, go quiet when he attempts to feed you…

or maybe it was that decisive kiss under the blankets of darkness, a show of your desperation and longing for something more than this that he starts to crack, starts to break. it’s then that he finally thinks that, maybe, perhaps, he needs to let you go. he’s always been quite the emotional one.

11 years of free roam? more like 11 years of surveillance. it’s not like you were allowed to go with no strings attached, you were still standing on soil that wasn’t Jujutsu Tech ground because they’re the ones who have given you this right.

they’re the ones who let you go have fun, even letting you get a job as a regular salary worker, let you get a quaint little apartment nearby, let you live the life of a regular person.

but no, oh no. you wanted to play hero again when you saw a little girl getting chased, hunted by a curse? wanted to save a life again because that’s what you could do? wanted to do?

And you got hurt from your decisions?

let’s just say you’re in for a bad time.

[tkaulitzlvr]

HEYYY sorry if this is kinda long but ur my fav writer so i trust u w writing this 🤞

Could you write smth where tom used to be a player but he started dating the reader and seemed really loyal, but they go to a party together, their first party as a couple and when the reader leaves to go buy drinks she comes back to find tom sitting down with a bunch of girls, it looks like he’s flirting with them. sooo the reader gets really upset and walks all the way home thinking he’s cheating already even after only dating for like a month. tom follows her home, trying to explain himself and he eventually explains that he wasn’t cheating, he was trying to get away from all the girls politely, but was kinda trapped. the reader forgives him and it ends in smut or fluff or whatever u want.

SORRY ITS SO SPECIFIC LMAOOO

WHAT IT SEEMS - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom has finally managed to settle down with you, discarding his womanising ways. but, you see something that makes you think otherwise, tom desperate to explain himself to you, certain that you have got the wrong idea.

content: angst + fluff

a/n: love this idea, thank u so much for the request i hope u enjoy !! this is lowk ass tho i’m so sorry😭😭

“we really don’t have to go schatz, i know you don’t like these sorts of places.” tom repeats, standing in the frame of the bathroom door as i apply my make-up in the mirror. “we can stay here instead, i’ll get some snacks from the store, just me and you?”

he tries to reason with me, knowing that i’ve never been a party person. i hated large groups of people, not understanding the buzz that people got from drinking unsafe amounts of alcohol and fucking some random, the idea literally my worst nightmare. i preferred to stay inside and watch a movie, or bake something, finding comfort in familiarity, never described as an extroverted person.

tom however, was the complete opposite. he was a party animal, ending up at a different club every night, with a different girl between the sheets after he left. that is why our relationship was so unexpected, but it seems that tom had changed. he settled down, spending less and less time out at a random bar, instead spending his nights with me, soon realising that the party scene wasn’t something i enjoyed. at first, i was hesitant to believe that he had changed his ways completely, but, a month into our relationship, he has given me no reason to not trust him, this the reason why i am deciding to finally give in and go to just one party, tom having missed out for so long. but he is clearly confused by my change of heart, trying to remind me that he is more than okay with not going, growing to enjoy quiet nights at home.

“tom i’m fine. you haven’t been to a party in forever.” i start, blinking rhythmically as i apply my mascara, before moving backwards away from the mirror and turning to face him. “besides, i can’t stay locked up here forever. i have to live a little.”

he tilts his head, still uncertain despite my clear lack of hesitation. his lips purse together as he walks towards me, resting his hands on my hips. i can tell that he is questioning it, part of him missing the parties that he used to go to. but the new and sensible part of him, the part that is more prominent now, silently reminds himself of how much he has grown to love spending time with me and only me, coming to the conclusion that parties were never as fun as he had sometimes made them out to be, much preferring my company to getting shitfaced in some random club.

“there’s other ways to have fun besides getting wasted all the time. i like that about you. you don’t have to be drunk to have fun.” he says, kissing my forehead softly.

“i want to go.” i state, looking upwards at him, my eyes wide as i attempt to convince him to calm down a little.

“are you sure baby? i don’t want to force you into doing anything you’re uncomfortable with. you know i’d hate myself if you got there and didn’t like it. i’d much rather we-”

i cut him off by pressing my lips against his, sealing his over dramatic rambling with a short kiss. “i’ll be fine, okay?” i reassure him, my forehead against his.

he lets out a small smile, sighing heaving before speaking. “fine, get ready. but if you don’t like it, we’re leaving straight away. deal?”

i roll my eyes at his protectiveness, my heart melting at how much he cares. though it is a little frustrating, i can’t be mad at him, nodding my head slowly as a chuckle leaves my lips, my body turning back towards the mirror as i finish applying my make-up, my small crop top and tight skirt already on. tom walks behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, letting his hands rest on my stomach, before resting his head in my neck, planting gentle kisses there as i finish the rest of my makeup, small giggles leaving my mouth when his lips touch a sensitive spot on my neck, or his hands gently squeeze my stomach and his fingers slightly tickle the skin. he smiles behind me, his eyes calm and half-lidded, dreads resting over his shoulders and draping onto mine as he slowly rocks us side to side, continuing to kiss my neck from behind until i am finally finished.

the walk to the club is short, tom’s hand staying clasped in mine as we wander through the darkened streets, few people and the occasional car driving by us. i prefer peaceful nights like this, time to admire the city, rather than being face first in the crowds that daytime brought along with them. tom is speaking about something random, a lazy smile tugging on my lips as i look upwards, not particularly focusing on what he is saying, instead admiring his features - eyes fixed on the way his brown eyes shine, occasional smile gracing his face as he speaks, tongue grazing against his lip piercing. i take in this rare moment, though to some it is simple, to me it is something to be treasured, happy to listen to whatever tom is saying, finding it adorable how he gets so into a conversation when it is about something he cares for.

my cold breath leaves my lips as i exhale, reminding me how bitter the weather is, despite the warmth that the jacket tom had insisted on letting me wear brings me. occasional laughter emits from our mouths, sharing pointless conversation, enjoying the simplicity of each other’s company, our content exchange soon cut off by the sound of overly-loud music, signalling that we have arrived.

the queue to get in is longer than i had expected, tom not phased by this as the bouncer seems to recognise him, flashing him a quick smile and letting the both of us in. it is completely packed, drunken bodies encircling my vision, this enough for me to become easily overwhelmed. tom realises this, bending downwards so that his voice can be heard over the loud music.

“you okay? we can leave if you don’t like it.” he squeezes my hand as he speaks, bringing me into his embrace, his hands now running up and down my arms.

i shake my head, not wanting to leave before i had even given the place a chance. i let out a small ‘i’m fine’ in response, tom nodding his head and leading me through the crowd, looking downwards at me every few seconds, his hand never leaving mine until we emerge, arriving at a smaller section cut off from the rest of the club, being what i assume as the VIP section. the staff there recognise tom like the bouncer had, letting him in as we find a couch and table unoccupied.

he flops onto it, spreading his legs and wrapping his arm around my shoulder as i sit beside him, his other resting on the back of the couch. he scans the area, his lips pursed, head lazily nodding to the beat of the music, fingers tapping against my shoulder.

“you okay?” he shouts over the music, looking over at me and planting a small kiss on my forehead, pulling me closer into his side.

i nod my head, pointing a finger over to the bar. “i think i’m gonna go get a drink. you want one?”

he seems hesitant to let me go, his face falling a little, seemingly surprised at my willingness to walk around alone. the place somehow seems to feel busier, the bar totally packed, scattered with glasses, some empty, some practically full. but i figure that if i want to put myself out there more, i can’t rely on tom to be by my side, wanting to do this small thing alone.

“you sure baby? i can come with you?” he asks, looking upwards and seeing how crowded it has become.

“i’ll be fine. you can see the bar from here anyways, it’s not like anything can happen.” i say, pointing out the direct view our table has to the bar. though it is a little far away, past the small crowd of people forming there, it is in our eye line, tom able to maintain a perfect view of me.

“okay, but i’m watching the whole time. if anything happens i’ll be right over.” he gives in, though i can tell by his tone he is still reluctant. despite this, i stand up, pulling my skirt down a little bit. “and get me a beer please schatz.”

his hand plants a small squeeze on my ass, my body whipping around to scold him, yet my eyes are met with that same infamous smirk, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip as i shake my head, a low chuckle escaping my lips. i walk over to the bar, reaching it successfully after pushing through a few wasted bodies. i turn around, squinting my eyes to try and spot tom, seeing that he is still alone, his own eyes searching to meet mine. he spots me, sending me a small smile and wave, his face visibly calming down once i am within his sight.

i turn back around towards the bar, resting my frame against the hard wood. a tall man comes towards me from the other side, nodding for me to order.

“a beer and a piña colada, thanks.” i say, pulling out a twenty dollar bill from my purse and pressing it flat against the table.

he nods, taking the money and starting to prepare the drinks. i awkwardly tap my fingers against the wood as i wait, the music seeming to get louder, leaving me with a pounding headache. my body is warm, unsure of whether it is the proximity of sweaty figures dancing around me, or the sweltering air, everything in the room feeling ten times closer than it would outside.

he places the drinks against the table, shooting me a small smile as i take them, returning the gesture and turning around. my eyes catch a small glimpse of tom from where i am stood, quickly doing a double take as i realise that he is not alone. from a distance, i can spot at least four girls, two at either side of him. he appears pretty content, a large grin from ear to ear as he engages in conversation, the girls way too close for my liking. they are practically up against him, wearing next to nothing, their bodies covered with dresses so skimpy i wouldn’t have bothered wearing anything at all.

he seems completely comfortable, the only difference in how he was sat before being that his hands had moved from either side of the couch, now resting in his lap. i can see him shake his head, that flirty smile never faltering. however i reach my breaking point when one girl leans closer, about to place her hand on his thigh. that’s when i lose it.

i storm towards the table, tom’s attention quickly turning to me as the eyes of the girls sat beside him all turn to me too, curious to see what has been able to divert his attention so easily. his face softens as he seems somewhat glad to see me, this only angering me more. one second, he is entertaining girls because i leave for a minute, then his eyes light up as i return, as if he hadn’t looked at them with that same grin i have seen way too many times before - all before we started dating. my jaw is clenched, eyes cold and harsh as i slam the drinks down onto the table, part of the liquid splashing out of the tall glass from the force.

“there’s your fucking drink, asshole.” i scoff, shaking my head and turning around, starting to find my way through the large crowd in the centre.

i can hear his voice behind me, constantly calling my name as he forces his way through the crowd, only a few steps behind me. i ignore his pleas, feeling like a complete idiot for believing that he had changed.

“get out of my fucking way!” i shout over the music, pushing the last few people out of my way, my eyes finally meeting the exit, leaving it quickly, tom still following me as he continues to be persistent, my name pouring from his lips every few seconds.

the night is even colder than it was when we had arrived, my entire body shivering once i emerge onto the empty street, the distorted blur of music no longer helping to drown out the sound of tom’s voice as it seems to get closer and closer. i continue to shrug him off, speeding up as my heels click across the pavement. my hands run up and down my arms in an attempt to warm myself up, now without the comfort of tom’s jacket to keep my temperature high, my small and tight outfit providing no warmth at all.

however, my fast steps are no longer enough to keep myself distanced from tom as i feel his hand on my shoulder, the strength of its hold causing me to stop in my tracks.

“jesus christ, baby, what the fuck?” he asks, out of breath, his chest heaving up and down as i face him, his eyes heavy and filled with confusion once he processes the hurt etched upon my face.

“don’t fucking touch me!” i scoff, roughly detaching my shoulder from his head, my eyes becoming glassy, both from the harshness of the wind and the reality that tom hadn’t ever changed his ways as i had thought. “just fuck off, you’ve done enough. and i actually thought you were different, how fucking naive can i be?”

i turn around, starting to walk away again. yet he speeds up, jogging and moving to stand in front of me, completely trapping me.

“baby, please it’s not what it looks like.” he pleads, his own expression now filled with desperation as he begs for me to hear him out, my mind set on what it had seen - no explanation able to change that.

“really? so i didn’t see those girls all over you?” i challenge, shaking my head as a sarcastic chuckle leaves my lips, in disbelief of how stupid he is making me out to be.

“you’re blowing this way out of proportion! you’ve got the complete wrong idea schatz.” he says, his own voice raising a little as he becomes frustrated.

“do you know how unbelievable you are? i should’ve known, i was never good enough to make you want to settle down.” the tears cascade down my cheeks, my teeth sinking into my lips as i quickly move around him, walking away once again.

but, he doesn’t accept my desire to leave, taking my hand and pulling me backwards, his eyes glossy with tears, his sudden display of emotion taking me by surprise.

“liebe, please can you just listen to me for a second?” he sighs, his voice wavering as he speaks. i stay silent, the tears pouring down my face, yet he takes my lack of response as a sign to continue. “they came over to me. i told them straight away that i wasn’t interested.”

i furrow my eyebrows, a mixture of guilt and disbelief taking over. one part of me feels terrible for not letting him explain, this whole thing my fault if he is telling the truth. but, the more infuriated side of me doesn’t believe him for a second, refusing to even consider that he brushed them off, tom never being the type to refuse a girl’s company. and it is this anger within me that acts out, cutting his explanation short.

“fucking bullshit. do you think i’m an idiot-”

he cuts me off, continuing to explain. despite my cold tone, he remains calm, taking my hands in his own, his eyes softly looking into mine as he speaks.

“i told them my girlfriend is here, and i’m not interested. they wouldn’t give in. i didn’t want to be rude, you know i’m not like that. but i didn’t let them do anything. didn’t you see how i was sitting? i’ve never had my arms closer to me in my life!”

he lets out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little. but once he sees that i am in no mood to joke around, he shakes his head, straightening his expression before continuing.

“i was literally about to get up to come and find you, but then you came over. i get that it might’ve looked weird from far away, but i promise you.” he trails off, taking one step closer to me, reluctantly reaching upwards to gently graze his thumb across my cheek, applying a little more pressure once i accept his touch. “i promise you that i shut it down straight away. i want you and only you.”

both of his hands cup my face, his thumbs running comfortingly over the soft skin, his eyes scanning mine as he awaits my response, my mind working at a million miles per minute as i try to find the right words. though i am still angry, now more at the girls than him, it is impossible to ignore the sincerity of his words, guilt rising within my stomach as i feel nothing but regret for not trusting him.

“i’m sorry.” i mutter, removing my eyes from his own as i stare at the ground, salty tears rolling down my face more than they had before.

“hey, hey…” he trails off, lifting my chin with his pointer finger, his face falling once he sees my state. he plants a soft kiss to my lips whilst his fingers wipe away the tears resting on my cheeks. i kiss back, his lips soft and warm, enough to calm me down instantly.

he pulls back, resting his arms on my lower waist as his forehead sits against mine.

“you can always trust me. i’d never, ever, cheat on you. i’m sorry for how i used to be, and if i could change it, i promise you that i would, in a heartbeat. i want to be better, for you. you mean more to me than anyone else in this world, and i want to show it. you just have to let me try. okay?”

his lips stay parted as his slightly ragged breathing fans against my face, his warmth contrasting with the harshness of the climate around us.

“okay.” i say, nodding my head. he brings his lips to mine, smiling into the kiss as i gladly reciprocate, feeling his hands bring me closer into him.

“come on, let’s get you home.” he says, pulling away and holding his hand out for me to take. i smile warmly, intertwining my fingers with his as he pulls me closer, kissing my forehead gently. we begin the short walk home, tom stopping after a few seconds. he pulls his jacket off, tugging it along his frame. he takes a sleeve, gently threading my arm through it, repeating his motion with my other arm, until the material completely submerges me, my body warming up almost instantly.

he smiles downwards at me, kissing my cheek quickly, noticing the way a loud yawn escapes my lips after he does so. he bends down, placing one arm behind my neck, the other scooping me upwards by my legs as he carries me bridal style, a surprised gasp leaving my mouth at his actions, however it soon turns into a loud giggle once he begins planting large kisses across my face. he is grinning from ear to ear, his heart warming at the happiness plastered on my face, his hold on me tightening as he places one last kiss to my nose.

his arms remain securely around me as he walks slowly, the rocking motion of his steps causing my eyes to feel heavy, my eyelids beginning to fall shut, on the verge of falling asleep. my breathing slows, close to slipping into unconsciousness, however tom’s low voice prevents me from doing so. he clearly thinks that i have fallen asleep, yet i hear the phrase pour from his lips as clear as day.

“i love you.”

requests are open! keep sending them in, there’s a lot in my inbox atm but i’ll get to it as soon as i can!!

[tartrazeen]

I am once again insisting that the "Naked guy covered in flammable jelly has to put a super long code into a safe using only a tea candle for light so he can get the antidote to the poison that Jigsaw stuck him with and also there's glass on the floor ouchie" is

✨A Good Trap✨

This was Saw 1, people. The irony was in full high-concept fever.

What was this guy's crime?

Faking a work injury to scam his insurance (aka the genius way to take a vacation in no-sick-days America)

Why does Jigsaw give a shit about insurance companies with everything we see in Saw 6?

'cause the guy was getting insurance money when insurance said no to jiggy 😞 (also jigsaw's a serial killer who preys on people already going through the shittiest time of their lives, like how he not-murders a dude for the crime of - i guess - pussying out of suicide? that's canon btw. that's the guy they show us immediately before naked-jelly-safe man)

So what's the irony in this otherwise impossible, bullshit trap?

The door's open, the guy can leave, he's not actually poisoned

Jigsaw likes to lie. Especially Saw 1 Jigsaw.

Jigsaw also likes making his win conditions exceedingly obvious in hindsight.

Sometimes it's a straightforward, "Jump into the pit of needles and find the key. No riddles. Gogogo." And then you're like, "ohhh damn, i really should've just done that faster"

Sometimes it's an uwu troll of, "I dunnoooooo detective, i guess maybe if you talk to meeee you'll find ur son somewhere................ SAFE?!?! uwu" And then you're like, "ahhhhhh (⁠☞ﾟ⁠∀ﾟ⁠)⁠☞ you got me with word play again"

And then sometimes he's like, "I'm gonna need you to speedrun some brain surgery. no no, on your own brain. It's ironic because you can't. Also I'm going to melt your face in an Aztec face mask 'cause i'm also like... i'm ngl, i'm a little racist uwu. plus the irony's that you live in a hot country or something i guess idk i have five these in this movie, hurry up and fail jfc"

So here, Jigsaw didn't say the door was locked. He told the suicide-guy that, so he will say it if it's actually going to happen. But here, he just said the guy had to carefully step around the glass and crack the code.

You know.

The insurance fraud guy.

The scammer.

Being - ironically - scammed.

Buddy could've left right away, but he was very, very sure he'd actually been poisoned and stayed (then burned) to try to get to an antidote he didn't need.

$5 says the safe would've been empty, too. Like that was the cure: nothing, because he wasn't sick in the first place.

... also this means Jigsaw only targeted him because he was jealous someone else was getting insurance payouts.

So who's the REAL jelly man now, John?!

[lux1fer]

oopsies i forgot to show you guys the finished product of this yeah a few weeks ago the rp actually finished completely. im really happy with how this animatic came out and id definitely be willing to finish it. itd definitely take me a year at the least though this rp means the world to me. im gonna be emotional for a second sorry folks but like i havent had this much fun in a roleplay since my old warrior cat rp days- even then they were never as good as this one was. none gave me this much whimsy a thank you to @interncontinental for hosting this amazing rp. you're awesome /gen anyways, timestamps below ! this is gonna be. another wall of text.Again. so cw for text wall if ur prone to seizures caused by text. ive tried spacing the text out to help but it's probably still pretty bad, so forewarning !

0:00 ink and error (alongside many others) are trapped in this safehouse(the multiverse outside it is collapsing) which. as the name depicts. keeps them safe the safehouse has a dome surrounding it that's miles thick with concrete, metal, all that 0:13 error REALLY does not like being trapped here, so he tried breaking through the walls with his blasters 0:26 ink attempts to convince him not to (as it is against the rules to break the walls) but error doesn't listen. they have a big fight and error ends up breaking the dome's outer layer- which is what essentially lights up the entire place, and gives the illusion they're on earth. 0:51 he, alongside ink, are sent to a dungeon as punishment. (they end up making a friend there) and they use the owner of the dome's aunt to bribe him into letting everyone out. 1:17 error and the owner end up having a private discussion, in which error realizes the owner- the guy he DESPISED, was exactly like him. they both killed multiverses. they both killed people for fun. 1:22 he ends up having a fight with his own morals, before deciding he'd change for the better. 1:29 error frees the owner's aunt in exchange for the freedom of the people locked in the dungeon with him. 1:42 while he's walking out of the dungeon, he apologizes to ink for everything he's done 1:45 error walks back to his room and cries. 1:48 ink ends up pushing a chocolate bar with a note on it through the crook at the bottom of error's door the note says he forgives him. error cries again because of it. 1:51 ink and error end up hugging

1:52 eventually, ink realizes that he's run out of his lil emotion vials due to the corruption of the multiverse, which is an issue ! 1:59 due to ink's rapidly decaying health, error decides to give up half of his soul to save the guy from going kaput! this causes even more issues 2:04 nightmare- who had come to the safehouse, decides to mess with error's mind. he convinces him to get back into his old habits, under the pretense that he's weak and pathetic otherwise. error believes this. (also nightmare was redesigned by a friend of mine- her name is al! she doesnt have tumblr i dont believe though so raghh i cant ping her) 2:17 in what can only be described as a mental breakdown, error attempts to take back the half of his soul he gave to ink 2:30 error hesitates- he doesn't truly want to hurt ink, though he's not too sure why. 2:36 (its not on screen cus i couldn't fit it) error decides to capture and attempt to kill pj and gradient (who are here too!) instead, but this backfires as ink was no longer captured. ink knocks him out with his brush. 2:42 the corruption, which had been kept safely outside of the safehouse, has crept in due to corrupted individuals entering the dome. this forces everyone to escape through a previously blocked up exit the owner had built. 2:44 huge timeskip- essentially, the place they had found to live in after fleeing caught on fire, forcing everyone to run away Again! 2:46 in the new new place they had escaped to, the corruption Also arrived! the location was a cloud castle that floated above an ocean. which was quickly corrupting. the castle collapses, and floods with corrupted water. this scene needs a LOT of context-- the bandaged character by the name of blaze (owned by @teyvawni by the way go check out his stuff) arrived to the safehouse a while ago, with his brother following suit. said brother was corrupted. fresh, paperjam, and gradient were nearby when they arrived, and upon seeing the corrupted individual, fresh decided to commit Murder! this obviously upsets blaze, and he ends up killing both fresh AND pj and gradient- pj and gradient's death being present here. ink is watching 2:47 hinto, who is one of, if not the only friend error made in this roleplay ends up getting brutally murdered. this scene depicts him dying in error's embrace (you will see these two a lot whenever i draw this rp. i love them so much) 2:49 after the cloud castle collapses, they escape to what is essentially just error's void except everything is fluffy everyone present was given a choice- the universe was resetting, as the corruption had completely taken over Everything. including universes seperate from utau. you either stay awake for the 3 trillion years it took to completely reset the entire universe, or you sleep. considering error's friend was now a ghost and he didnt want to waste this time sleeping without spending time with his best friend, he chooses to stay awake for the entire 3 trillion years. 2:51 after those 3 trillion years, error is reasonably Exhausted. everyone else is exploring this new place they arrived in, while he is simply sitting in the corner and observing. he can only really stand speaking with hinto as he watches everyone else bicker and do whatever. 2:52 after error Brutally murders the person who killed hinto (this is not included in the animatic), error, ink, and dream are speaking to eachother in a nearby bamboo forest. nightmare interrupts and attacks ink with dust tagging along. big fight occurs, error and ink are mortally wounded, and are probably hashtag Screwed! 2:56 in a last ditch effort to save the people he cares about, error decides to sacrifice the half of his soul still left to save ink from dying.

soo Yeah! thats it! if this gets like. 20 notes im gunna make a comic based off of this. this isnt to incentivize people to like or reblog (Though that would be pretty swag of you ,, flutters my eyelashes) i just want an excuse :3 ill probably do it either way. eventually

[lcnelyghost]

how about James march trying his best to keep the reader away from the countess, but they eventually start talking and it ends up with the countess manipulating the reader into thinking James doesnt like them? some angst maybe idkkk

I hope u have a great day, Thank u sm!!

ps: i love ur work :)

𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢, 𝔦𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰//𝔧𝔭𝔪 ✰

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; 𝔧𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 𝔵 𝔣𝔢𝔪 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤; 𝔭𝔤

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔭𝔲𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫, 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔰

The sound of silence was the only sound present in the Cortez. Everyone was either out, asleep, or just trapped here, remaining in secret for however long they wished to be hidden.

You however, were wide awake in bed, just staring at the ceiling. James lay asleep beside you. His dark chocolate brown hair slightly messed up, a few bits resting upon his forehead. He always looked so peaceful when he was sound. You could never help but to admire his beautiful, sleeping form. With him being a ghost, he didn’t need much sleep. But even the dead got tired at times.

You sighed and slid out of bed, cringing when you saw James stir. You managed to creep quietly to another spot of the room, changing into clean clothes before leaving a note for you’re partner when he woke up.

Dearest James,

I have gone down to the bar for a bit of peace. I may not be here when you wake up, so no need to go looking for me. I will arrive back when i’m fully relaxed.

Love, Y/N.

You finished signing off the note before heading down to the bar. Luckily enough, Liz was still up serving drinks. So you wouldn’t need to help yourself and go a tad bit crazy. Perhaps she’d make sure you were keeping a limit on how much you were drinking.

She smiled at you before placing a glass down, putting in a few bits of ice. You liked when the two of you could talk in the dead hours of night. It was far more peaceful and no one would be able to disturb either of you.

“What are you in the mood for tonight, honey?” Liz asked. You requested you’re choice of beverage and she was busy making it within seconds. In the distance, you could see Sally sitting in one of the booths.

Liz handed you you’re drink and you thanked her gracefully. You took a sip before lighting a cigarette.

“Can’t sleep?” Liz guessed.

You shook you’re head and blew out a cloud of smoke. Not a single soul was in sight but yourself, Liz, and Sally. A chill ran down you’re spine as you listened in to the deadly silence.

“Is anyone else even up at this time?” You questioned. Liz just poured herself a drink and sat on the stool behind the bar.

“Well.. John sometimes comes down. I think Iris is probably sound asleep. And my Tristan always hits the snooze button the minute he lays down.” The two of you giggled. I think most of the ghosts were aware that Tristan LOVED his sleep. Even in death, he still found it incredibly important.

“Oh, and the Countess is always just out or in her room with Donovan or whoever she’s still with these days.” Liz said, swiftly gulping down her beverage. You raised a brow and stared behind her in deep thought.

“Everything ok honey?”

You were quick to snap back into reality. “Oh yeah, yeah. Just.. i’ve never seen her in person.”

Liz nearly choked on the small bag of chips she was now snacking on. “You’ve never seen the Countess?!?”

You awkwardly bit you’re lip. “No..”

Liz sighed a little. “Even.. even Mr March hasn’t mentioned her to you?”

“Nope..”

She looked rather confused but decided to shake it off. You were about to finish you’re drink but you seemed to notice how Liz was staring at the ground floor beneath the bar, paying close attention to the beautiful blonde woman walking through the doors.

“That’s her.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s the Countess.” Liz pointed out, getting herself off of the bar stool and pretending to clean up the minute the Countess caught her looking.

You drank the last of you’re glass before taking a good look at her. Soon enough, the two of you locked eye contact.

She smirked slightly before dismissing the thought of returning to her suite and heading up to the bar. Had you made a mistake by letting her notice you’re presence? You didn’t have a clue. From what you’ve heard of the Countess, you knew she wasn’t one to fuck around with. Be careful with you’re words. Always.

Her heels tapped against the stairs going upwards to the bar. Liz gave you a sort of ‘good luck’ expression before going off to speak to Sally.

She finally entered the bar and you turned you’re back to her, hoping she’d just go back to wherever she was originally planning on going.

That thought ended and you’re bubble was immediately burst. She took a seat on the bar stool next to you, sensing the fear radiating within.

“New face I take it?” She laughed with a slight hint of coldness to her tone, calling for Liz to come over and make her a drink. You saw the friendly, now nervous barmaid whisk out a large, fancy glass containing some sort of red liquid. You assumed it was wine, of course.

You gathered enough courage to face her, forcing a smile. “I’ve been here and there in the Cortez.”

“Hm, so what is it that draws you in to spend you’re time in this place?” The Countess questioned. You thought wisely about what answer you’d give her but just guessed it would be best to tell her the truth. You weren’t exactly threatened by her, but you just didn’t really want to know what she would do if you dared to offend her in any way, shape, or form.

“I stay here for someone who has drawn me in from the very first moment I met him.” You replied, watching her take a sip of her drink. She licked her lips and stared at you with great interest. Playfulness, even.

“Would I care to know this person?”

You sighed. “Maybe. Maybe not..”

She chuckled before signalling to you that she wanted an answer. Now.

“His name is James Patrick March. You may not have heard of him, but he has quite the reputation. So I won’t be surprised if you know who he is.”

She grinned wickedly before giggling softly. You blinked and wondered if telling her was the correct choice to make.

“Yes. As it turns out, i’m aware of who James is.”

You were confused on why she used his first name. You knew the guests and other ghosts only referred to him as Mr March. That was what he expected from all of them.

“Have you met?”

She laughed even further and you began to feel nauseous.

“James and I go way back. Though i’m sure you’re aware that he’s not from you’re timeline.” The Countess whispered. You nodded you’re head gently and didn’t know if you really wanted to find out how the Countess was acquainted with you’re beloved.

“You see, James and I were rather close back in our day. He appeared to have drawn me in with the same darkness I presume he drew you in with. It’s a pity though. Even when he put a ring on my finger, I didn’t entirely know what I was walking into.” Lying bitch. James had been the one to suffer for years due to her unloving and selfish personality. Though, that you had absolutely no clue about.

The minute she finished her last few sentences, you practically choked on you’re cold refill.

“I’m- i’m sorry?” You sputtered. James had a wife?

The Countess laughed again and took a few more sips of her drink. You felt yourself begin to feel like an idiot. James had been wed to her, and you knew nothing about it. He hadn’t mentioned anything that would indicate he had a previous lover. Especially not that his past lover was the Countess..

“I must warn you, he can be quite a handful when he wants to be. In fact, i’m still forced to have atleast one meal with him each month.” She huffed. You looked at her in disbelief. So that’s why James was never ‘available’ to see you on one specific day each month. Well, that’s how Miss Evers had put it.

“I’m guessing you’re aware of his past. I did not support his actions. But, I had to live with them. I tried to tell him about my doubts in our relationship, but I had no choice. I was stuck. I knew James would certainly never let me move forward..” The Countess lied again. Her tone was filled with pure, mock sadness.

You were at a loss for words. You’re.. you’re James was a control freak? If you ever wanted to leave him, he’d hold you captive within the walls of this hellhole?? That wasn’t what had struck you most. It’s the fact that he had been a lover of this woman for so long, and you didn’t even know about it..

I mean what could you possibly do? It was clear she wasn’t fond of him anymore, but was he still madly in love with her? Was he even YOU’RE James? Perhaps he’d been using you on the nights and days he never got to see the Countess.

“I must be getting back to my suite. Just.. keep in mind what I told you.” She grinned again, winking at you before abandoning her drink and leaving.

You sat there, a dreadful feeling of hurt and loneliness slowly passing over you. You’d been lied to. Again. So many men had all sorts of experiences in you’re life, and you thought James might just have been the one that changed everything. Well weren’t you the fool.

Liz came back over to you after she realised the Countess had left. She noticed the lining of tears in you’re eyes, suddenly growing worried.

“Sweetie, is everything alright?”

You fumbled for words. “I.. I need to go..”

You placed a hand over you’re mouth and dashed off. Leaving Liz confused and even more worried than what she was before.

***

You ran from hallway to hallway, desperately trying to get back to you’re suite. You passed Tristan on the way, he was fully clothed but was furiously rubbing at his clearly tired eyes. By the looks of it, he’d just awoken from his slumber.

“Oh hey Y/N..” He yawned, stumbling backwards when you shoved past him, still sobbing.

“Damn, someone’s pissed.” Tristan mumbled sleepily.

***

You finally reached you’re suite and burst through the door. There was no sight of James, so you ran to the bedroom and slammed the door behind you.

Curling up into a ball on the bed, you just sobbed. Sobbed and sobbed and sobbed you’re precious heart out, trying to release some of you’re pain.

James was quick to appear before you, totally stunned and extremely angry in case someone had hurt you.

“Darling! Oh, my darling.. what is wrong?” He said, reaching over to place a hand on you’re shoulder. You only flinched back in pure rage.

“Don’t touch me you bastard!”

James stared at you, wide eyed. He was totally bewildered. What had he done that would have hurt you so?

“I spoke with a familiar face in the bar. Very familiar, actually. You’d certainly know her..”

“Her?” He raised a brow.

“YOU’RE WIFE.”

James looked at you blankly. “Darling.. whatever do you mean?”

You scoffed and flew off the bed, pushing past him. He was quick to follow you into the sitting room.

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean?’ you asshat! You know exactly what I mean, James!” You screamed angrily. Flopping down onto the sofa in you’re fit of rage.

“Dearest please.. I don’t understand..”

You laughed at his foolishness. “The Countess. Does that ring any bells, Jimmy?”

He gulped slightly. You only referred to him as ‘Jimmy’ when you were extremely pissed. Now he knew he was in trouble.

“Dear, this a misunderstanding!” He yelled back. Beginning to grow frustrated with his words not even being acknowledged or listened to.

“James.. I know for a fact that this isn’t a misunderstanding. The Countess told me everything. How you got married, that you wouldn’t let her leave, how you trapped her in here! Is that what you’ll do to me?” You whimpered, noticing the look of hurt on his face.

He took a few steps closer to you and sat on the armchair nearby, sighing.

“My love, you know I would never hurt you. Ever. And as for the Countess, that woman isn’t so perfect herself. Our story.. wasn’t like that at all. I was betrayed, lied to. I thought I had fallen in love but I was so confused.. and desperate for that matter. Elizabeth used me as a distraction. A past lover of hers had passed away, and she felt herself also on the brink of death. So.. I tried so very hard to help the poor dear. Something in her had interested me, so.. I found myself feeling the need to make her happy. But what I didn’t know, was it was all a trick. A cruel, meaningless, trick. Her past lover was still alive and well. He offered to give her something I couldn’t. Immortality. That man had been infected with what appeared to be some sort of ancient blood virus.. something that would make one strong and forever beautiful. Elizabeth agreed to run away with him and his other lover, threatening to leave everything I had with her behind. They were all unaware that I knew all about this wicked plan. I.. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted her back. I still craved her touch and the warm feeling of undying love. So, I hid her lover away within the walls of the Cortez. He was trapped. Never to be found again. Just a few years ago.. Elizabeth managed to find out about this news. I didn’t bother hiding it. Whatever I did wouldn’t matter. I was practically abandoned by her so many years ago. All I did was watch as she moved on from man to man, not a single thought going to me at all..”

You looked at him with shock. Feeling nothing but guilt and utter stupidity. The Countess hadn’t been the victim in all this. It was you’re James.. you’re poor, poor James.

“So, my dear. The Countess was not the first woman I fell in love with. It was you..” He whispered, getting up from his chair and kneeling down in front of you.

“Oh James.. oh James!” You cried, wrapping you’re arms around him.

“I’m sorry.. i’m so, so, so sorry!” You cried further. James shushed you gently and pulled out his handkerchief, drying you’re tear stained cheeks.

He pulled you into his touch, kissing you’re lips softly. You returned the kiss, turning it into a more passionate, loving experience.

“Darling..”

“Yes, James?”

“Marry me.”

***

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔰!!

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱; @v-love (𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔞𝔳 𝔬𝔣𝔠)

[ssturniolo]

hi hi! I absolutely adore ur work and I thought if u could write a nick fanfic ( platonic ofc) where r and him just discuss random things??? Tysm if u do!!!

Memories

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Nick x platonic!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - you and Nick find a place that brings back memories.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - purely platonic, swearing, I think that’s it

You and Nick had met in middle school and have been inseparable since. Although you’re good friends with Matt and Chris, you and Nick have always been closer, which has led to many many sleepovers at the triplets house.

Which was exactly what was happening now, you and Nick both stretched out across his bed, conversing while scrolling through TikTok.

Stopping on a thirst trap edit of Nick, you gasp dramatically, turning your phone so he can see.

“Lookin hot Nick” you giggle, knowing he hates seeing these type of edits of himself.

Rolling his eyes, Nick swats at your phone, biting back a smile. “You need to stop interacting with these edits y/n, your giving the fans exactly what they want” he jokes, now earning an eye roll from you.

After a few minutes of silence, Nick locks his phone, putting it down on the bed.

“Wanna go do something? I’m bored”

“Yeah I’ll get my keys, we can drive around” you reply, smiling at the way his face lit up.

Now downstairs, you slide your shoes and a hoodie on, shouting a quick goodbye to Matt and Chris.

“Where are y’all going” you hear Chris say, turning around to see him at the top of the stairs.

“Not sure yet”

“Can I come?” He asks, his voice thick with hope.

Before you can respond, Nick pushes past Chris, shaking his head.

“No way”

Seeing Chris basically deflate, you give him a reassuring smile. “I’ll take you out soon.”

Not waiting for his reaction, you turn around, following Nick out the door. You two used to go out all of the time, but as Nicks popularity grew, you guys couldn’t go anywhere without him being recognized, so you completely stopped.

***mini time skip***

You guys have been driving around for awhile, only stopping once for McDonalds when Nick gasps.

“What?” You question, confused as to what could be so important he physically had to gasp.

“Remember that park we used to hang out at all the time?”

“Um… yeah?”

“We literally just passed it”

“There’s no way” you say. That park had been knocked down years ago just to be left as open space.

Even though unconvinced, Nicks excited expression is enough to make you turn the car around, and drive to a spot you basically lived at in high school.

Parking in a deserted parking lot, you get out of the car, examining the old wooden arch you had walked through countless times.

Following Nick through, it’s your turn to gasp at what you see. “Holy shit it’s still here” you marvel, running your hand over the old wooden seesaw.

The old play set would be creepy to some, but with the joy it once brought you, you couldn’t bring yourself to fear anything.

“Well this brings back memories”

Agreeing, you walk over to the swing-set, sitting on a swing. “Remember when we managed swing me a full 360 around this?” You laugh, wincing when you remember the painful landing.

“Yeah, every little kids dream” Nick reply’s, sitting on the swing next to you.

You guys had come here every day after school for years until Nick got a job. Y’all had spent hours talking, laughing, and just doing stupid things, so when it supposedly got knocked down, your heart broke.

Now seeing it again after years, you couldn’t stop smiling, thinking about all the fun memories that came with it.

Looking over at nicks happy features, you close your eyes, happy it’s just the two of you.

“I’m glad we came out tonight”

“Yeah, me too”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

My first Nick fic, I hope y’all enjoy! :)

XOXO - Zoe

[not-alien-girl-v]

bro im sad and need 75 fluff

Beside You (George Daniel)

i need u to know how badly i wanted to reply to this with ‘damn that sucks. goodluck tho’

warning: is this too fucked up. you can be honest with me. tw language also i make up my own sayings sometimes so if ur ever reading my work and thinking ‘who the fuck says that’ no one does except for me

note: this is fucked up because i feel like i relate to reader too much. anyways. read at ur own risk

2.8k

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Wallet, phone, gum, breath mints, polaroids, but no keys in her purse. She’s supposed to have them, anyway. George loves to get on her about it every time she forgets them, which is about 50 percent of the time.

And here she is, keyless, outside his house.

It’s like a cruel game, this entire situation. She can hear the laughter inside, voices of her closest friends pooled together in liquid form, swirling around in the room before her like an aquarium of dirty jokes and screaming laughter.

They’re all just on the other side of the door. Just a room away. Yet she’s still on the outside, looking in through some metaphorical window. The curtains are closed, the glass shut to keep the smell of weed and cigarettes inside.

She misses them, more than she can say, more than she thought she would.

‘The door is always open,” she can hear his words ringing through her head. ‘To you,’ an afterthought. She never knows what to make of it when he says things like that.

Again, though, metaphorically, the door is open. Physically? It’s locked tighter than her asshole.

So if not keys, what does she have? Dignity? It’s close to being out the window if she has to knock repeatedly until someone hears her and opens the door, even more so if she has to call him to open it, or any of them, really, she doesn’t want to seem desperate, at least not as desperate as she truly is.

God, she feels like a schoolgirl just at the thought of this whole ordeal. She’s in love with George Daniel. It’s not a hard thing to do, he’s basically the man of any girl’s dreams, but she was just fortunate enough (or perhaps, unfortunate enough) to become friends with him.

Him, and his stupid friends, his stupid house, his stupid locks.

She’s deciding what to do when, magically, the door swings open on its own. But it isn’t magic. It’s just George.

He grins, not like he’s happy to see her, but like he’s happy to be right, prove a point about something. He doesn’t greet her, he takes a step back, letting her cross the threshold on her own terms, and proudly exclaims to his dumbass friends scattered around the living room.

“I was right! I told you she’d be waiting outside like a creep!” Again, making no moves to interact with her at all. No ‘we’ve been apart for 4 months hug.’ No ‘I miss you’, no ‘I’m sorry I don’t answer when you call’, but somehow she loves how he doesn’t care.

He’s nonchalant, the ‘chill’ one of the group, always too high to care too much about anything, but it’s not a fault, not to her. Rose tinted glasses, or something.

Ross is on the single lounge chair, slumped down, joint pinched between the his pointer and thumb of his right hand, Adam sprawled out on the loveseat, stretching his legs out onto George’s previous seat, taking up the entire space of the couch since George got up and abandoned his cushy spot.

Matty’s on the floor. Matty was on the floor, but he twists onto his feet, approaching her in the door way.

“Y/N! It’s good to see your face,” he works his arms over both her shoulders, less of a mutual hug, more him holding her hostage in a death trap for a moment, firm pats and swipes on her clothed back. “I missed you,” that last part is muffled into her hair.

She watches George over Matty’s shoulder, rolling his eyes at Hann, pretending to sit on Ross’s lap for a second before dropping to the ground, legs crossed, and takes the joint from Ross. His mouth hollows around it as he inhales, carved cheekbones on full display.

He’s a spectacle to watch. If she had it her way, she’d never take her eyes off of him. But she can’t have it her way, not yet.

She gives Matty 3 firm rubs on the back, muttering a ‘missed you too’ into his neck, then ducks under his arms, sitting herself an appropriate distance from George on the floor, but close enough to show she wants more than friendship, if that’s even something that can be conveyed through sitting distance.

It’s these types of things that rot her brain every time she’s near him. It’s like a spell he puts her under, she can’t talk right, she gets all blushy and flushed and nervous when she looks at him, so she’s made a habit of looking anywhere else, the floor, her nails, his friends.

She’s snapped out of her daydream by George elbowing her in the ribs to grab her attention. “You want a hit?”

She allows herself a smidge of self-indulgence. Eyes trace his shoulder, rippling muscles under warm skin under colored tattoos, she wanders down it to his arms, veins protruding like he’s completing some impressive feat, one that requires complete contraction of all his muscles, yet between his fingers, all that lays is a tiny joint.

“Uh, yeah,” she decides to allow her fingers to gently brush his own, concluding it’s just the right amount of mix of longing and friendly gesture, romantic and platonic stirred into one touch, and this, this little action, this will be the moment George confesses his true love for her so she doesn’t have to do it first.

She could do it. She could say what she’s been biting her tongue about for years and years now. She could have done it any number of moments these past years.

The night before the boys left for tour, when George stopped by her house impulsively, out in the pouring rain for her until she let him in, and they talked and talked and talked until their throats ran raw and voices croaked. Any pause in the conversation, she could have blurted it out, pulled his lips to hers.

Halloween, 1 year ago, when she dropped acid and began to have a bad trip, she freaked out so hard she was almost inconsolable, when he locked the door behind them in her bedroom and wrestled her frantic self down onto her bed and held her there. He was so close, nearly every inch of his body molded to hers in some way, hell, she could feel his breath on the space behind her ear. They stayed like that for hours. She didn’t utter a word.

She will admit, things have been different as of late. These moments where she thinks she could almost say what she wants to are becoming sparse. Intense, deep moments that make her feel connected to him body and soul. She hasn’t been feeling it as much lately.

Maybe she was pulling away from him, maybe he was pulling away from her, but the distance from tour wasn’t the only space between them.

That didn’t stop her from missing him like hell every time he went away.

“By the way, Y/N, we ordered Chinese before you got here, there’s leftovers in the kitchen,” Adam mumbles to her, like it’s his only volume of voice. Has he ever yelled?

She nods, wordlessly, and walks to the kitchen, hoping to get away from the whirlwind of emotions she is being assaulted by from simply being in the presence of George. Years of friendship and it never gets easier.

She finished a small plate of food quietly in the kitchen. She hears the boys laughing in the room, on the other side of the wall.

Leaning over the sink, she scrapes the plastic fork against the edges of the now empty bowl.

“That was quick,” a voice from behind her, startling her so bad, she drops both items in the sink.

It’s him.

“I was hungry.”

He approaches from behind, getting too close than what she would consider a friendly distance, but George does this all the time.

What he doesn’t do all the time, however, is wrap his arms around her waist from behind. "Missed you," he speaks through an inhale, like he's breathing her in, toxic fumes that swirl around his lungs like smoke.

"Yeah, same." She's a fucking imbecile. How was he supposed to know she loved him when she says such dry things when he's here, wearing his heart on his sleeve as he does. Does he do this to all his female friends?

He hums, not prodding further about the way her voice is unexpectedly monotone. He releases her from his grip, reaching around her for a fortune cookie.

"You had one of these yet? They kind of taste like an old man's ear but I know you love the corny messages inside of them." He's right. She does love that. She loves that he knows she loves it. She loves him.

"Sure," she takes it from him, cracking open the shell and discarding the gross cookie on the counter behind them, as she does so, he settles himself in front of her, trapping her against the counter with both hands resting on it on either side of her, their chests not quite touching but she certainly can feel his warm body next to hers.

"What's it say?" He mumbles, not wanting his buddies to catch him in such a compromising position with one of his closest friends. Matty would surely give him hell for it. 'Why don't you ever treat me like that?'

If Matty weren't so hung up on Y/N, George would swear the boy was gay for him.

She unrolls the white paper. 'You only live once. 19 3 23 90.' Was this thing for real? Were the stars truly aligning so perfectly for her just this once. And the numbers, they're numbers engraved in the same sector of her brain, the sector containing all things George. When rearranged, they would spell out George's birthday. The 23rd of March, 1990.

Fuck, it was like God herself was here, screaming in Y/N's face, "this is a sign! This is a sign!" It was neon, bright pink and green, appearing over the man's head, reflecting of his bleached blond hair. George gazes patiently at her.

"YOLO," she says, and laughs without humor. He cackles, his loud, familiar witchy laugh that makes her weak at the knees, but she doesn't allow herself to swoon.

"No fucking way! Let me see that," he cruelly rips it out of her gentle fingers, eyeing it himself. He exhales a sigh, "what a fucking joke."

A sign. A sign. A sign.

"George. George?" She tries out his name like it's the first time. He doesn't suspect a thing, he glances innocently up at her from the fortune paper.

"Yes, love?" An arrow through her heart, piercing ang stinging, sharp.

"I..."

"What?"

"I love you. I love you. More than as a friend."

And he laughs. He laughs like she just told some tastefully dirty joke to him, like friends would, good friends, best friends. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm serious George. I'm in love with you. I have been for, I don't know, a long time.

He retreats. He backs away, smile wiped from his face.

"No, no." He tries to shake his head like disagreeing with her will make it not true.

"I am. I didn't know how to tell you, I swear, I lost count of all the times I almost did. I was so close for so long, but I was scared. Still am. Please." God, how pathetic does she sound right now. Please? This is not how she planned it. Where was the requited love confession? The passionate kiss? The foreheads pressed together like lovers would? It's nowhere to be found, she's afraid.

"Don't do this. Come on, we've got a good thing going, you and me. Don't ruin it, you're ruining it!" His voice starts to raise.

She fucked up big time.

"I'm ruining it? Me! You didn't call me for 4 months. 4 months, George. You didn't answer my texts, nothing! You left me with nothing for 4 fucking months! Then, when you finally get back, I come to see you and you say nothing! You said nothing to me! No, wait, you called me a creep for standing outside your house. No hug, no 'I missed you'. Nothing, George!"

"Look, I just didn't want to be all sappy about you in front of the guys. It would look... I don't know... weird."

"Oh, ok. So you weren't being all sappy when you were practically groping your ex-girlfriend in a room with everyone? Sucking face, sitting her on your lap, grabbing her tits, that's not too sappy for you. But saying hello to your best friend you haven't heard from in months? That's where you draw the line, huh? Can you just be honest with me? Can you just tell me the fucking truth?"

He's sure everyone's been hearing every single word of this, and to his surprise, no one has intervened yet. Not even Matty.

"Fine, Y/N. You want the truth? If you want it so bad, then you can have it. I knew you loved me. You're so obvious about it, God, I'm not fucking stupid. But I never felt the same way, so I didn't say anything. Is that a crime? It's nothing new to you, you're not my type. If we're both being honest, you're not the most attractive girl. It's not your fault. And it never bothered me because we're friends. Why can't we just be friends? Please, Y/N, stop doing this, you're only making it worse."

"You're such a dick! You're such a fucking dick!"

It's at this point, Matty and Ross pile into the room, Ross trying to diffuse the situation by attempting to escort George out of the tension-filled room, Matty trying to escalate the situation, giving George a slap to the face.

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole? After everything I told you? Everything we've been through?" Now Ross is attempting to pull George away from Matty, Adam joining in to separate Matty from George.

"She's my fucking friend! I'll deal with her how I want to!" George retorts. He attempts lunging at Matty but Ross, full-bodied and strong, holds him back.

"Sure, she's your fucking friend. So what? That means you have the right to treat her like shit when she tells you how she feels? You've been leading her on for years now! Everyone knows it. Ross, Adam, me, you brought this upon your fucking self and now the inevitable has happened and this is how you choose to deal with it! She's a human being, with real feelings, real emotions, and more than that, she's your best friend. Shouldn't that count for something at a time like this?"

The physical aggression has mostly gone away now, and Ross is unsure of what to do, should he break up the argument? Take sides? Back Matty up? Console the now sobbing Y/N? He takes frantic glances to Hann as he debates all the options, Hann, clearly doing the same. They stay frozen in their spots.

"I'm not in love with her. I don't love her, not like that, she just doesn't do it for me. I can't control that. I don't have to love her back, I can't. Besides, I thought you were the one head over heels for her. This should be your lucky day, after a tough rejection, you can swoop in on your white horse and take her for yourself. You should be thanking me, giving you an opening after all this ridiculous pining you've been doing."

"You're right, I do want her. I've wanted her to love me for as long as she's been hung up on you. But I'm a decent fucking guy, and I wouldn't want to start something with her, not under these circumstances. This is all wrong, this isn't right, George. She doesn't deserve this. She cares about you, she cares so much, and you knew this whole time, so obviously you should have known better than to go and treat her like this. Grow a pair, you cunt!" Matty finishes with a harsh poke to George's chest.

Unsurprisingly, George storms out, despite this being his own house, car keys in his pocket, and no one quite knows where he may be off to at a time like this but that's not anyone's main priority anymore.

Matty takes a moment to collect himself, trying to pretend like he's the only one in the room for a moment, before turning around to assess the situation, the girl he's been in love with.

He turns to see her crying into a hug from Ross, Adam unsurely rubbing her back in comfort, neither one of them certain on what to do. There's still so much left unsaid.

Once Ross takes notice of Matty's impatient gaze, he pats the girl's back, turning her in his grasp, trying not to feel bad about essentially handing her off to Matty, but at the moment, it seems like they need each other more than anyone needs Ross, so he does what he has to do. "Go to him, love," he mutters, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

Hesitantly, she approaches Matty, no idea of what is next to come.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @milkluvr8 @americanangel

[simcardiac-arrested]

thinking about making a fan princess that's zombies... when you go the route of talk -> fight -> lock downstairs to bleed out (you also die from your wounds) it changes from The Nightmare to The Cadaver or someting... thoughts (handing her to you on a small paper plate)

(also i seem to vaguely remember you having a fan princess plz plz tell me about her) (if you wanna :3) (waving)

sorry hold on u put slay the princess and Zombies in the same sentence so im blacking out. my mind is going. ohhhhhuehjehh ZOMBIE PRINCESSS!!! FUCK MEEE I LOVE ZOMBIES I THINK THAT'D BE COOL AS SHIT!!!!! i wonder how she'd act like ... maybe something like adversary but in a much more negative way?? like the violence isnt enjoyable .... idk idk... would love to hear more from u on this ALSO YEAH WAVES BACK HII!! i have 2 fanprincesses, the web and the hive!! coincidentally you also get them by shutting the door on the princess!! u get the hive if you get the soft princess and then lock her away (and she doesn't get mad, it always kinda felt like a missed route that when u lock the nice princess away she just becomes evil and monstrous? idk idk) and so in chapter 2 the hive basically fuses with the cabin around her and she can't leave and she just wants u to join her hivemind the web u get by locking the princess away and then just, leaving the cabin. not even deciding to watch over her ur just like ok well not my problem anymore byeee!! but unfortunately it is still ur problem. and u get chapter 2 the web where she tries to trick you into rescuing her, and if you come close she just traps you in her place instead. but then neither of u can leave so ummm. awkwarddddd u can also read like sliiiightly more about them here and here where i try to describe their concepts in a coherent way. but they're not 100% concrete tbh and whenever ppl come up with their own interpretations for my routes im like YAYYY YIPPEEEE!!!!

[thelovelylolly]

AAAH I'm so happy ur requests are open!

Could u do Hunter x Merc!Reader where they're exes but Omega knows they're still in love, and convinces the others to pull a parent trap on them (if u can't tell I've been thinking about this for awhile now)

Still In Love

Summary : Cid teams you up with The Bad Batch, who's sergeant is your ex. You two hate each other, but Omega sees right past that. Warnings : none (i think) Notes : i love this idea! thank you for the request <3

"Lucky for you, I'm feeling generous. You and your partners will get 40% of the cut to split among yourselves," Cid said, leaning back in her chair across from you.

You needed some quick money and you contacted an old friend, Cid. She had a job for you, but said that you had to partner up with some of her other...clients.

You took a sip of your drink. "So, 20% for me? You never change, Cid."

"What can I say? I'm a simple creature," she replied, glancing behind you at the sound of footsteps. "Oh would you look at that, your partners are here."

You turned around, drink in hand. You nearly dropped your cup when you saw who your partners were.

The Bad Batch. You used to help them out here and there during the Clone Wars, so you were surprised to see them here. But you didn't only help out the team, you had a relationship with the sergeant. You and Hunter lasted for a while, but the war pulled you apart and the two of you had a...messy break up to say the least.

You downed the rest of your drink before setting the cup on the table in front of Cid and getting up.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working for the Empire?" You asked, mainly to Hunter. You and the rest of the Bad Batch were friends, and the break up caused no resentment between you all. Your attitude was directed to Hunter.

"We deserted. What are you doing here?" Hunter quickly answered, stepping closer.

"I need some credits, why do you care?" You took a step closer, the two of you only having a few feet between you.

"Alright you two, cut it out! I don't need a fight in my parlor!" Cid yelled, pushing you two apart. "Work together, get your pay, and be done with it."

You glared at Hunter before walking past him, bumping your shoulder into his. You looked over at the rest of the Bad Batch, noting the young girl and no Crosshair. "Who's the girl?"

"This is Omega, she's a defective clone like we are," Tech answered.

"Hello!" The girl, Omega, said with a bright smile on her face.

You smiled back at her then looked back up at the others. "And Crosshair?"

"He...decided to stay with the Empire," Echo replied. "We think it's his inhibitor chip."

"I know if I ask what that is, Tech is going to give a whole speech about it," you joked.

"Come on, let's get to the ship," Hunter ordered, walking behind you and out the door. You glared at him and rolled your eyes. Wrecker, Tech and Echo followed him, but Omega stayed behind.

You looked down at her. "Go catch up with your brothers."

"You don't really hate Hunter, do you?"

You sighed. "A long time ago I didn't. But you won't understand, kid. Let's just get this job done."

--

You and the Bad Batch landed on the planet Cid sent you two. You opened the door and were greeted to a lush forest before you turned back to the squad.

"I'll go take a look around-"

"No, I will," Hunter cut you off.

You rolled your eyes then walked down the stairs. "I'll be fine, Hunter."

"I have better senses than you, I should go check things out."

You turned around, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you glared at Hunter as he put his helmet on. "I've got it, Sergeant," you spat.

"Perhaps you both should go," Tech suggested, stepping out from the ship.

"We don't need-"

"Yeah, you both should look around!" Wrecker said loudly, before pushing Hunter out. Hunter turned right back around, but was met with the door closing and locking.

"Are they serious?" You asked.

"Let's just get this done, okay?" Hunter answered, turning around and started to walk toward you.

"No! They can't just lock us out!"

Hunter stopped you as you started towards the ship. He gently grabbed your arm, causing you to look at him. You'd hate to admit it, but you felt your face get warmer. You two were very close. Since his helmet was on, you didn't notice his eyes shift to your lips before darting back up.

"The sooner we do this, the sooner we can get this mission done," Hunter said softly. You sighed and pulled your arm away from him before turning around and following him down the worn out path.

--

"Looks like your plan worked, kid," Echo said, watching you and Hunter walk away from the cockpit. "Let's just hope they talk things out, because I don't think I can take another trip with them bickering."

"They will," Omega replied.

"How do you know?"

"Because they're still in love. It's obvious they still care, they just don't want to admit it."

"Sounds like them," Wrecker joked, his laugh filling the ship.

--

The walk had be silent and the tension was so thick, you could cut it with Hunter's vibroblade. You kicked at rocks on the path, trying to take your mind off of the clone walking beside you. It was hard to ignore him, it felt like there were things you had to talk about but you didn't know what. You didn't know where to start.

"I think they did that on purpose," Hunter suddenly said, breaking the silence.

"Did what?" You replied, looking at him for the first time since you started walking.

"Pushed us out together. I noticed how annoyed Echo and Tech were with our...arguing on the ship. They just want us to get over whatever's going on between us," he paused and stopped walking, turning to you. "Do you know what's going on between us?"

You stopped, but didn't turn to him. "I have no clue."

"Well clearly you do, because you've been fighting with me since I stepped into Cid's parlor. I don't understand why you hate me-"

"You don't understand?!" You cut him off, turning to him finally. "Let me jog your memory, sergeant. You decided to break my heart all for your precious war and Republic, but look where that got you. I was willing to go with you, I was willing to fight with you in the war, but you didn't let me! And what happened after the war? You didn't even try to look for me. You. Don't. Care-"

"I do care!" Hunter exclaimed, pulling his helmet off and letting it drop on the ground. "Don't you dare say I don't! That's why I left you, because I wanted you to be safe. Even though I know you can take care of yourself, the war was too dangerous. I didn't want you to get hurt or worse. I can't imagine what I'd do if I lost you..." He trailed off.

You sighed, then let out a dry laugh. "I still love you, you know? I never stopped."

"Then...why did you act like you hated me?" Hunter asked, stepping closer to you.

"Because I didn't want you to break my heart again. I didn't want to be hurt again."

"I never wanted to hurt you, I just wanted to protect you."

You took a step forward and closed the gap between you and Hunter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Hunter's arms quickly went around your waist and he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. One of your hands went to his hair, running through it.

When you eventually pulled away, you leaned your forehead against his and you sighed happily. "I missed you, Hunter."

"I missed you, too, cyar'ika."

[sugarsnappeases]

hi Kara!!! 16 wips!! I am obsessed!! Can you please tell me about they tasted like blood (like love) and the ghost thing?? 🫶🏻🫶🏻

HEY LOVELY!!! ik 16 wips is craaazzzzy to me i have no idea how my list got that long like actually how did that happen but YES i absolutely can!!

they tasted like blood (like love) is a quillkiller fic inspired by this short play that i'm slightly feral over. it's called 'the closed doors' by pauline albanese (and you can get it on kindle for like 3 quid!!) and it's a hades and persephone retelling that just actually shot me down dead on the spot but anyway ig the fic is also a hades and persephone au but it's quite dark and slightly obscene but also with this tiny little gentle touch to it and i'm insane about it!!! INSANNEEEEEE!!!

here's a tiny litttle incy wincy snippet for you darling:

“Let me go!” she shouts, punching the door again, she didn’t deserve to be locked up like this, to be trapped in this living tomb, this place of ash and rot. Bellatrix punches the door again, and again, and again, until her hand is bleeding. Blood is the only thing that flows in this place.

and THE GHOST THING!!!! the can of worms you've just opened skye oh my godddd but this is my precious ghost sybillily baby i love it so much

it's set after lily and james are killed, and the war is over, and sybill is working at hogwarts still (and like... i've talked about sybill in this post of mine so this is the vibe like she is just struggling all the time to me actually) but one night she's visited in her dreams by the ghost of lily who has come to kill her bc she blames sybill for the prophecy and for the fact that she's now dead (... much in the same way that sybill blames herself) and there's a snippet of that here if ur interested

but anyway after that lily sticks around.... tries to kill sybill a couple more times but eventually is just like. there. and sybill is SO confused bc that isn't meant to happen, the ghosts aren't meant to be there when she's AWAKE and she's not meant to be able to feel them so she's like throwing herself further into divination to try and figure out what's going on and what it all means and she's slowly losing her grip on reality and she's falling apart at the seams but she's also oddly comforted bc now lily is there she. isn't alone anymore, lily is there w her all the time, even in her nightmares and the horrors of her mind, and she finds herself so drawn to this crazy murderous ghost of a woman...... and then lily disappears!!

not gonna tell you why she disappears (bc i'm not entirely sure myself lmao) but she disappears and sybill is alone again. or even more alone than before bc now she has to spend the rest of her life wondering if any of it was even real, if it actually happened or if it was just in her head...

anyway i could go on but i feel like this is already Far too long but oh my god i'm obsessed with my ghost thing she's so important to me

[guilt-na-zan]

ok it's been a billion years since you've posted it but oh my gosh ur theory is so good. i had been theorizing the same thing myself. imma yap about some other things to consider, as well as brainstorm as i go!!!! im so normal about this game LMAO im just yapping here

as for the lady in red and tryst after death, i speculate that the woman he loved so dearly may have used him for his wealth when he thought she was different from all the others. he may have had a child with her and everything and found out she was just like all the other women and because of this, caused him to spiral even more because the one person he felt he had an escape with was all just a trap. this also can be seen in that grey area with all the ladies, because it's the place where u get locked in a room with ib's parents on a painting that even garry can see, (which feeds into a whole nother idea i have but i'll save that yapfest for later), but is still ruined and the "safe room" is invaded by the ladies. the painting is literally titled "couple" and in a safe room away from all the ladies but gets invaded and broken by them anyways, not even using the door to come in but breaking in through the wall, which could symbolize that the downfall of his relationship was unexpected and so damaging that it left a permanent stain on his heart.

as for what mary's description implies, i think with this theory, it might imply that guertena's happiness was never real. mary is supposed to represent the happiness he wish he had but bc of that, she was painted with jealousy in mind. he died an old man, bc i did math and calculated that from some point in highschool all the way to his death, he had at least 53 years of art experience, making him at least 68 by the time he died (the numbers next to the painting descriptions represent years, confirmed by kouri, meaning this takes place far into the future sometime after the year 6248). this also, branching off ur theory, could be defended by the description of serpentine spirit (6248) ---->

"Beginning with this piece, Guertena shifted to greater focus on abstract art. But at the time, cubism was more in vogue, leaving Guertena's various abstract works largely ignored."

with this, it could be that guertena's efforts were never taken into consideration, which feeds off ur theory again, where its clear that the value of a person is not seen any deeper than skin-level. no one saw the value of his works because they werent cubism.

mary's implication also ties into color theory and the other theory that "mistake" couldve been a self portrait of guertena when he was younger. flower language says yellow roses can be used to convey friendship or be signs of jealousy during the victorian era, which is what surrounds mary in her portrait. if we take that into consideration, as well as the mistake painting, yellow and blue (if we take symbolism shown throughout the game of the red and blue pairings) combined makes green: guertena painting with bitterness. this could also be why mary and garry dont mix well, because in guertena's world, green is a sign of bitterness to him, which would honestly be so funny but at the end of the day, its entirely speculation off of just a few points.

yapping here vv

honestly??? the mention of yellow roses signifying jealousy in the victorian era led me to dig into that historical era a bit: the clothes of the late victorian era look similar to the clothes worn by ibs parents and the lady in red!!! the clothes are very simplified but have a clear victorian influence. this could definitely tie into the theory of the yellow roses not only signifying mary's friendliness, but also guertenas jealousy OF her! green being her major color despite having a yellow rose would tie into that too. if we take green meaning jealousy, would that mean that at garry's core, he is also a bitter and jealous person? underneath his coat, he wears a green tanktop. blue as a standalone color means grace, wisdom, and stability. blue roses often imply something is mysterious or longing for the impossible. ib just wears red, like her rose, the only one without a variety of colors in her outfit! garry is ib's rock throughout this entire journey, which would connect with that stability and wisdom that he provides to her, but his background is a complete mystery despite us knowing hes not well off (he could be middle or lower class) and he likes sweets. the feeling of longing could tie into your theory of garry showing a similar perception of life to how guertena lived, which would really explain more about his character and upbringing. tying back to that thing about guertena living to be at least 68, that means he lived a really safe life, bc the average live expectancy during the victorian era was around 40. to live that long, he def was privileged to the day he died. this could also tie back to that bitterness bc he had it all, just like ib did, but never was happy or satisfied with himself or the people around him. one thing he really lacked was that openness and maybe even that love that ib has with her and that she gets from her family.

anyways im done yapping

i just wanted to add in my own lil pieces to defend ur theory a bit or add some food for thought. ive been obsessed with ib for the longest and accidentally found this theory while searching for guertena's self portrait. a thing i noticed about his self portrait was him painting something with green. the shape looks like mary's lower dress but the legs wouldnt make sense as they look to curvy to be her legs. u can tell me ur thoughts or if anyone else has any ideas, that'd be cool!! anyways, im done yapping byebyeeee

Ib Theory - The World of Guertena, part 2

One of the things in Ib that I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out is just what Weiss Guertena was like.  I’ve touched a bit on it before, largely in the context of how I think the world operates, and what the implications are for a perfect ending where everyone survives.  But I didn’t really talk much about Guertena himself, or about what I think the world actually is.  So now, I’d like to talk a bit about my perceptions on the man himself, and what his painted world is really all about.

I should note: I consider this a lot more my perception than anything else.  There’s very little known of the guy, and perceptions about the painted world and how it works varies greatly, I’m sure.  This is more a reference guide; an explanation of my thoughts regarding how the painted world works so that things will make more sense when I start talking about our protagonists later on.

Keep reading