#I hate myself i hate it here why can’t things be easier :/

[aiizaph]

You know the sexual frustration is bad again when I’m getting upset over seeing a shitty doodle of two of my OCs kissing.

[arkaiveofurown]

he was harsh to you

Pairings: Crocodile x Reader, Ace x Reader, Law x Reader, Mihawk x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000 - 2,000 words each

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff

my masterlist here ♡

----

Crocodile

The tension between you and Crocodile had been building for days. He had been aloof, and his sharp, biting remarks were starting to wear on you. It wasn’t like you couldn’t handle his bluntness—hell, you were used to it by now—but today, it felt different. It felt personal.

You had just come from a successful mission for the Cross Guild, but the celebration was overshadowed by Crocodile’s attitude. You were standing near the map room, reviewing your next move, when he stormed in with that familiar scowl on his face.

“Don’t you have something better to do than stand around wasting time?” Crocodile snapped, his tone cold and dismissive. “I don’t need a babysitter. Get your act together.”

You felt your blood boil at his words. “Excuse me?” you shot back, unable to hide the irritation in your voice. “I’m doing my job just fine, thank you very much. Maybe you should stop trying to belittle everyone around you.”

Crocodile’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening as he stepped closer. “Belittle? I’m trying to get through to you. You’re so damn distracted, it’s pathetic. You’re wasting your potential.”

“Wasting my potential?” You clenched your fists, holding back the sting of his words. “How about you stop trying to micromanage everyone around here? I’m getting things done, but you just don’t want to see it, do you?”

“Getting things done?” Crocodile scoffed, walking over to the table and slamming his hand on the map. “You’re dragging your feet. We’ve got a Guild to build, and you’re too busy pretending everything’s fine. If you think this is going anywhere, you’re living in a fantasy.”

His words stung more than you cared to admit. “I’m not pretending anything. I’m doing exactly what needs to be done. But if you think I’m just here to be your damn soldier, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Crocodile’s eyes flashed with something darker. “Soldier? Don’t flatter yourself. You’re part of the team—if you can manage to act like it. But from what I’m seeing, you’re more of a liability than an asset.”

You felt your chest tighten at his words, the anger bubbling up in your throat. “A liability? I’ve been working harder than anyone on this ship, and you can’t even see it. Maybe it’s easier for you to blame everyone else for your own failures.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping low. “What failure? I’m not the one who’s failing here. It’s you, with all your whining, trying to act like this is a charity. This is a Guild, not a damn playground.”

You could feel the heat rising in your face, but you stood your ground. “You’re impossible. You always think you’re right and that the world revolves around you. Maybe you need to take a long look in the mirror and realize that you’re the one who’s out of line.”

Crocodile didn’t flinch. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. You either get in line or get out of my way.”

That was the breaking point. You took a deep breath, fighting back the urge to lash out. “I’m done with this,” you said, your voice shaking with frustration. Without another word, you turned and stormed out of the room, the slam of the door echoing in your wake.

----

The silence in the ship’s quarters felt suffocating. Crocodile’s harsh words echoed in your mind, replaying over and over, and the weight of the argument was crushing. You hadn’t expected it to escalate like that, but there was no denying it now—you were hurt, and you couldn’t pretend otherwise.

You hadn’t bothered to leave your room, locked in your thoughts, lying on the bed with your back to the door. The sting of Crocodile’s words felt like a constant pressure on your chest. You’d been part of the Cross Guild for so long, fought alongside the others, but why did it feel like Crocodile just saw you as a tool? A tool that he could discard when it suited him.

You hated the feeling of weakness that crept in with the tears you’d been trying to hold back. But when it all became too much, they finally fell. Quietly at first, then in desperate, broken sobs.

You hadn’t realized how much you needed to cry until you did.

Hours passed, and you thought you’d hear the sounds of Crocodile’s usual cold demeanor at your door. But it never came. No knock, no footsteps—nothing.

You sat up from your bed, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. Crocodile might not have said anything more, but his absence was almost worse. It felt like he didn’t care enough to even check if you were okay.

----

The next day, things were still quiet between you and Crocodile. He wasn’t avoiding you, but he wasn’t making any overt moves either. The silence felt heavy, like there was more left unsaid, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to approach him first.

It wasn’t until you were sitting alone in the ship’s main hall, watching the crew go about their usual duties, that you saw him again. He was standing near the door, scanning the room as though he was looking for something—or someone. His gaze fell on you, and for a moment, you thought about getting up and leaving.

But then, something unexpected happened.

He walked toward you, his steps deliberate, his usual air of command unmistakable. But there was no arrogance, no cold indifference. Instead, there was something almost… hesitant, as though he was unsure how to approach.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice lower than usual. Not demanding, but more… tentative.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Crocodile sat down beside you, but there was a clear distance between you two. Still, he didn’t break the silence. Instead, his eyes flickered to the floor and back to you, unsure of how to even start.

“I’ve been thinking,” Crocodile began, his voice unusually soft. “I don’t do ‘soft’ well. I never have. I push people away because it’s easier than getting close. But with you… I shouldn’t have done that.”

You stayed quiet, listening. This wasn’t the Crocodile you were used to, and it threw you off. But you could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“I treated you like you were disposable. Like I could just push you aside because I don’t know how to handle emotions,” he continued, his words laced with the rare honesty he usually kept buried. “I’m not saying I can change overnight, but I… I can try. I can do better. For you.”

For a moment, the room felt too quiet, too heavy with the weight of his confession. You weren’t sure what to say, but you couldn’t deny the effort he was showing. It wasn’t just words. It was him trying—genuinely trying—to be someone better for you.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he added, his gaze meeting yours directly. “But if you’ll let me, I want to show you that I’m not just some heartless bastard.”

You exhaled slowly, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, confusion, and something else you couldn’t quite name. Crocodile wasn’t the type to offer grand gestures, but this... this was different.

He shifted in his seat, as if he was fighting the urge to stand up and walk away. His usual confidence was tempered by something more vulnerable, and it made the tension between you two feel palpable. Still, there was something unspoken in the air, something you both knew needed to be addressed.

After a moment, Crocodile pulled something from his pocket, a small, worn notebook. He placed it between you two with a rare hesitance, as though it was heavier than it appeared.

“I don’t usually carry things like this,” he started, his voice rough but not harsh. “But... I thought you might find it useful.” He tapped the notebook once. “It’s full of notes—things I’ve learned, strategies, things about our crew that could be useful. Not much, but it’s something I’ve kept for myself. Thought it might help you... since we’ve been working together.”

There was no flashy gesture, no grand promises—just this small act of vulnerability. Crocodile wasn’t one to share his notes or insights with just anyone, much less someone he had been pushing away. It was his way of showing he trusted you more than he had before.

You stared at it for a moment, processing what he’d done. It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t over-the-top, but it was honest. It was him offering something personal, a piece of his world that he didn’t usually share.

“I know I’m not great with words,” Crocodile continued, looking away, his usual guarded expression back in place. “But I can do this. I’ll show you I’m not just some cold bastard.”

You let the silence stretch between you as you reached for the notebook, running your fingers over the pages. It was simple, but it meant something—he was trying. And that was enough for now.

"Thank you," you said softly, glancing up at him. "This is... more than I expected."

His eyes flickered to yours for a moment, something unreadable in them. "It's just a start," he muttered, standing up. "I’ll keep trying. But you’ve got to meet me halfway, too."

You nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief. It wasn’t perfect, and there were no sweeping gestures, but this... this felt real. And that was a good place to begin.

---

Ace

The sun was setting on the horizon, casting golden hues across the ship. You and the rest of the Whitebeard Pirates were enjoying a rare moment of calm as the ship slowly drifted across the sea. The deck was lively with the crew, but you found yourself chatting with Thatch, who was always kind and welcoming.

The conversation was lighthearted, the two of you laughing over some silly story. But through the corner of your eye, you noticed Ace’s figure standing by the mast. His eyes were fixed on you and Thatch. You didn’t think much of it, assuming Ace was just being his usual quiet self. But then, you saw his expression—dark, his jaw clenched, fists tightly gripping the railing. His eyes narrowed as he watched you, and it felt like a cold gust had suddenly blown through the deck.

Before you could finish your conversation with Thatch, Ace stormed over. You barely registered his approach before he grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from Thatch.

“Hey! What the hell, Ace? What’s going on?” you said, trying to pull your arm from his grasp.

“Don’t hey me,” Ace snapped, his voice low and seething. He was angry, and it was obvious. “What the hell was that about?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, confused. You looked back toward Thatch, who was watching the exchange, a slight frown on his face.

“Don’t play dumb,” Ace growled. “You’ve been all over Thatch today. Laughing, touching him, flirting like it’s some fucking game. What, am I not enough for you?”

Your heart dropped at his words. “Flirting? Ace, we were just talking. It’s nothing like that. You’re making it into something it’s not.”

“Really?” Ace scoffed, his eyes darkening. “Don’t act like I’m blind. I’ve been watching you. The way you’re acting with him, it’s obvious. You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t see it?”

You felt the heat rise in your chest. “Are you seriously accusing me of something right now? You’ve known Thatch for years, and now you’re acting like this over nothing?”

Ace’s grip tightened on your wrist, his face flushed with anger. “Nothing? You think this is nothing? You think I’m stupid? You’ve been laughing with him, leaning into him, all damn day! It’s like I’m invisible to you when he’s around!”

“Ace, calm down!” you snapped, pulling your arm from his grip. “You’re overreacting. This isn’t about Thatch! I’m not doing anything wrong!”

Ace stepped closer, his voice growing colder. “Don’t tell me to calm down. You don’t get it, do you? I’m standing here, and I’m watching you smile at him, touch him, like I don’t fucking matter. And what the hell am I supposed to think?”

You couldn’t believe it. “You’re acting insane. You know I love you, right? You’re my partner. But you can’t just jump to conclusions like this—this isn’t jealousy, this is possessiveness. It’s not fair to me.”

“I don’t give a damn what you call it,” Ace sneered, crossing his arms. “It’s not just a little joke anymore. It’s like you’re fucking ignoring me every time he shows up, and I’m tired of it.”

You clenched your fists, feeling your frustration boil over. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re the one I want. Not him, not anyone else. I’m not some fucking flirt, I don’t need your jealousy getting in the way of everything. You’re acting like a child.”

“A child?” Ace barked out a laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “Look at you. You’re so fucking perfect with everyone else. But when it comes to me, I’m the one left questioning if I even matter to you.”

“Ace, you’re being ridiculous!” you yelled, your anger flaring. “This isn’t how you should be acting. You’re pushing me away with this shit!”

“I don’t care if you think I’m ridiculous!” Ace shot back, his face turning red with fury. “I can’t fucking help it. It just hurts to see you giving attention to someone else when you’re supposed to be mine. What am I supposed to do with that? Just ignore it like you’re not doing anything wrong?”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you couldn’t even find a response. You stared at him in disbelief. The person you knew, the Ace you loved, wouldn’t talk to you like this. He wouldn’t accuse you, wouldn’t twist everything into something ugly. “I can’t believe you’re saying this to me,” you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief.

Ace ran a hand through his hair, his expression shifting from anger to frustration, but his tone was still harsh. “I’m just saying what I feel, alright? Maybe I should just stop caring. Maybe I should just let you do whatever the hell you want without giving a damn.”

You felt a sting in your heart at that, but you didn’t let him see it. “Fine. If that’s how you want to be, then go ahead. Push me away. Make me feel like I don’t matter. Do what you need to do.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you!” Ace snapped, his voice getting louder. “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m not enough for you! Like you don’t need me anymore!”

“Ace, stop acting like I’m the one who’s wrong here,” you said, stepping back from him. “This is about you—your insecurities. You need to figure this shit out before you start blaming me.”

“I don’t need your lectures right now,” Ace spat, his eyes wild with frustration. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m the one with a problem. You’re the one making me feel like this!”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel the tension between you two, thick as smoke. You didn’t know what to say anymore. His words hurt more than anything, and you could feel the emotional distance growing between you.

“Ace,” you began, your voice quieter now, though still edged with anger. “I’m not going to keep fighting with you like this. If you want to think that I’m the problem here, then fine. Do whatever you want. But I won’t be dragged down by your jealousy. I won’t.”

You turned to walk away, but Ace’s harsh voice stopped you. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? Don’t you dare walk away from me when I’m trying to make sense of this! Don’t pretend like you’re innocent in all of this!”

You didn’t stop. You kept walking, not giving him another glance. If he couldn’t see how much you loved him, if he couldn’t get over his own jealousy, there was nothing more you could say.

And in that moment, the distance between you and Ace felt wider than it ever had.

----

The moment Ace walked away, everything felt cold. You didn’t know how long you stood there, just staring at the spot where he had left you. Your hand was still aching from his grip, but it was the sting in your chest that hurt more. He didn’t trust you, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

You didn’t want to cry, but the tears started anyway. It wasn’t just that he’d been angry—it was the way he’d accused you, made you feel like you weren’t good enough for him. His words burned like fire in your mind, and they refused to go away. You rubbed your eyes furiously, wishing it would stop, but it didn’t.

You made your way below deck, avoiding anyone’s eyes. But even in the silence, the weight of Ace’s accusations pressed against your chest.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden floor interrupted your thoughts, but you didn’t look up.

“Ace…” you whispered, voice barely audible, as you heard him stand in front of you. His figure towered over you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

He stood there for a long moment before letting out a long sigh.

“I messed up.” His voice was quieter now, filled with regret.

You didn’t answer right away, the hurt still raw. He continued, as if to reassure you.

“I know I was harsh,” he said softly. “I don’t know why I reacted like that. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

You finally looked up, his face full of guilt. It wasn’t the same anger you had seen earlier, but it didn’t make it better.

“Ace, I don’t deserve that,” you said, your voice shaking. “You’ve been treating me like… like I’m the one doing something wrong. You don’t trust me.”

“I know,” Ace muttered. “I was jealous, and it made me stupid. I didn’t think. I just… acted.”

“You can’t just accuse me like that, Ace. I thought you knew me better than anyone.”

“I do,” he said quickly, kneeling in front of you. His voice cracked slightly. “I do know you. And I’m sorry. I… I don’t know why I overreacted like that. It’s just…” He paused, staring down at the floor, lost in thought. “I get scared sometimes, you know? That you’ll leave me. Or that I’m not good enough.”

His words were quieter now, as if speaking them made the weight of them hit him too.

You swallowed hard, still trying to hold yourself together. “It’s not about you not being good enough, Ace. But you made me feel like I was the problem.”

“I didn’t mean to do that. I promise. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll make it right, I swear.”

He reached out then, carefully pulling you into a hug. His arms were warm around you, and despite everything, it felt like home.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Ace whispered against your ear. “Just... please don’t leave me.”

----

Later that evening, Ace approached you once again. He wasn’t going to let this slide with just words. This time, he was determined to show you how much you meant to him.

He found you on the deck, staring out at the sea. The sunset had painted the sky in shades of orange and pink. He hesitated for a moment, but then walked up to you, standing still for a few seconds before quietly sitting beside you.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. About how I’ve treated you,” Ace started, his voice calm but serious. He wasn’t going to let this be a quick fix. He had to prove he was serious. “I was an idiot before.”

You didn’t respond right away, but you didn’t pull away either, so he took that as his sign to continue.

“You deserve better than me just saying ‘sorry,’” Ace continued, looking at you with those soft, apologetic eyes. “I want to show you, not just tell you.”

Without waiting for a response, Ace stood up and reached into his jacket, pulling out something small wrapped in cloth. He unwrapped it carefully, revealing a beautiful hand-carved wooden pendant—one shaped like a flame, a piece of his own soul carved into it. He placed it in your hand, his palm warm against yours.

“I made this for you,” Ace explained, his voice low. “It’s not much, but it’s a reminder. Every time you look at it, I want you to remember that I’m here. I’m trying to be better. For you.”

You stared at the pendant, surprised that Ace had gone this far. He wasn’t known for his sentimental side, and seeing him take the time to make something so personal was a first.

But that wasn’t all.

Ace lowered himself to one knee, taking your hands in his, his usual cocky grin gone, replaced by something deeper. “I’m not perfect. Hell, I’m far from it. But I’m gonna fight for you, every damn day, if it means showing you that you’re mine and that I don’t take you for granted.”

His eyes held sincerity, not just for a moment but for what felt like eternity. He wasn’t asking for immediate forgiveness; he was showing you that he understood the weight of what he’d done, and he was willing to carry that burden.

“I’ll be better. I’ll prove it to you, one step at a time,” Ace added, squeezing your hands gently. “I’m not gonna run from it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You felt the weight of his words settle between you, but it was the actions—the carving, the kneeling, the rawness of his apology—that made the difference.

And in that moment, something shifted. His effort wasn’t just in the words, but in the way he had approached everything differently. The care, the vulnerability, the openness—it was something you hadn’t seen from Ace in this way before.

“Thank you,” you whispered, finally meeting his gaze.

Ace’s face softened, and he pulled you into his arms gently. “I’ll never stop showing you, okay? I’ll never stop trying.”

You could feel the warmth of his embrace, but it was different now—sincere, unwavering, and full of effort. He wasn’t perfect, but this was the Ace you had always known, the one who, when he cared, gave everything he had.

“I know you won’t,” you murmured, resting your head against his chest, knowing that even in his flaws, Ace’s heart was real and his effort was exactly what you needed.

----

Law

You were in the medical bay, carefully organizing the supplies, running through the routine tasks that kept you busy and, for the moment, kept your mind off the chaos of being aboard the Polar Tang. The quiet buzz of the ship’s engine was a subtle backdrop, almost soothing, but it wasn’t long before Law entered, his heavy boots echoing in the small space.

“Are you seriously doing this now?” His voice cut through the silence like a blade.

You turned, surprised to see him standing there with his arms crossed, a frustrated look on his face. "What? I’m just getting the medical supplies organized," you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. You had been with him long enough to know when something was off, and you could feel the tension in the air.

Law didn’t even spare a glance at the supplies. Instead, his eyes were fixed on you, sharp as ever. “It’s a waste of time. Don’t you have something more important to do?”

You blinked, taken aback. “What’s wrong with organizing the medical supplies? We can’t afford to let things get disorganized—especially if someone gets hurt. You should know that.”

His lips curled into a sneer. “This again? All you ever seem to do is waste time in here. We have real problems going on, and here you are, playing nursemaid.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but you tried to stay calm. “I’m not just playing nursemaid, Law. This is a crucial part of the crew’s well-being. You might not see it, but when someone gets injured, we need everything in place.”

Law snorted, walking further into the room with no regard for the way his presence weighed on you. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve been the one patching up the crew for years. I don’t need some reminder of how ‘important’ this is.”

His eyes glinted with something cold, making you feel like you were the one being irrational. “And yet, every time I come in here, I see you fiddling with bandages and vials like it’s some hobby. Maybe if you spent more time actually being useful, we wouldn’t be in half the mess we’re in now.”

You felt a rush of heat flood your face, your patience wearing thin. “Useful? I’m always useful, Law! You’ve never seen me just sit around and do nothing. I’ve been with you through thick and thin. What the hell is your problem today?”

Law didn’t flinch, his gaze cold and hard. “You’ve been off lately, not getting your hands dirty, avoiding the real work. Every time I turn around, you’re in here with your head buried in paperwork or fiddling with stuff that doesn’t matter. Are you even trying to help anymore, or is this your way of slacking off?”

You felt your pulse quicken, the sharpness of his words stinging like a slap across the face. “You know what? I don’t need this right now. I’m trying to do my best, but I guess that’s never good enough for you, huh?” You crossed your arms, pushing back the feeling of betrayal that crept up your throat.

“I don’t need your excuses,” Law replied, his voice colder than before. “You know what this crew is like, and you know what’s at stake. The sooner you stop pretending like this is all a game, the better.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “I’m done here.”

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, stunned. You stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.

You sat alone in your room, staring at the wooden floorboards, your mind replaying the harsh words from earlier. His anger had caught you off guard, and it stung in ways you didn’t expect. You’d never seen him like that—so cold, so dismissive. What had you done wrong?

You hadn’t meant to upset him, not at all. You were only trying to help, to get through to him, but it seemed like he didn’t want to hear it. The more you thought about it, the more it hurt. Was this how he really saw you? Was everything you did so easily misinterpreted?

The tears came, slowly at first, then in a rush, spilling down your cheeks as the weight of the argument settled in. You wiped at your face, trying to push back the emotions, but it was useless. His words lingered in your chest, heavy and suffocating.

You felt small in that moment. Small and insignificant. He wasn’t the kind of man who wore his feelings openly, but you thought—no, you hoped—that maybe, just maybe, he’d let you in. Now, all you had were the fragments of a conversation that had broken everything apart.

You stood up abruptly, wiping your eyes and trying to pull yourself together. There was no point in crying, not now. But the silence in the room felt like a weight you couldn’t escape, and your heart ached in a way it never had before.

----

The next morning, the air between you and Law was thick with silence. It felt like a weight neither of you wanted to lift, but both of you knew it needed to be addressed.

You walked down the corridor of the ship, your mind replaying everything that had happened last night. His words, his cold tone, and how they made you feel—like an afterthought, like your feelings didn’t matter. You needed to shake it off, but it lingered.

As you neared the deck, you saw Law standing near the railing, staring out at the horizon. His usual composure was gone. There was something about the way he stood there—quiet, almost brooding—that made your chest tighten.

You stopped a few paces away, unsure whether you should approach or just walk by. But you didn't want this hanging over you any longer. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and made your way toward him.

Law didn’t acknowledge you at first. His gaze remained on the horizon, but there was a noticeable shift in the air as you got closer.

“You were right to be angry last night,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. The words caught you off guard.

You blinked, surprised by his bluntness. “What do you mean?”

He exhaled slowly, his hands gripping the railing a little tighter. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I was out of line. I made you feel like your feelings didn’t matter, and I… I don’t want to make you feel that way again.”

There was no excuse, no deflection. He didn’t try to rationalize it. The rawness of his admission made something in your chest loosen.

“You fucked up,” you said, voice low but steady. “It wasn’t just about the words, it’s about how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t… important to you.”

“I know,” Law replied quietly, his voice carrying more regret than you had ever heard. “And I don’t want you to feel like that, not ever. I don’t want to make excuses… but I’ve been so caught up in my own shit that I couldn’t see what I was doing to you.”

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. His words were hard to process, but there was something in them that felt different—something that wasn’t typical of Law.

He met your gaze, and for a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the waves. “I won’t pretend I know how to do this right, but I will try. And I’ll show you through my actions, not just words.”

You hesitated, still feeling the weight of everything. “Actions? Like what?”

Law's gaze softened, and he stepped away from the railing, facing you fully. “Tonight… let’s take a break from the ship. No work. Just us. We can go somewhere quiet, somewhere we don’t have to worry about anything else. I’ll listen, I’ll be present. You deserve that, and I want to show you I can do better.”

The sincerity in his voice made you pause, the hesitation in your chest slowly melting away.

He didn’t need to explain it further; you could see the change in his expression, the way his eyes weren’t as guarded. The rawness of his apology spoke volumes, and his willingness to make an effort, to actually show you, made you feel something different—hope, maybe.

The night came, and as promised, Law took you somewhere away from the hustle of the ship. The moment felt intimate, unspoken, and just… peaceful. You didn’t have to say much; the quiet between you two now felt like understanding, not tension. No grand gestures. Just time spent together, away from the chaos, showing each other what words sometimes couldn’t express.

----

Mihawk

The moon hung high in the sky, casting its pale light across the castle grounds as the night stretched on. You stood near the balcony, overlooking the vast, quiet expanse of Kuraigana Island, trying to ease the tension that had been building between you and Mihawk for days. You didn’t understand it. He had always been quiet, always withdrawn, but this... this was different.

You had tried to speak to him earlier, but each time, he shut you down.

You walked up to him now, your voice breaking the silence of the night. “Mihawk,” you started softly, “we need to talk.”

Mihawk didn’t even look up from his sword. His posture was perfect, as always, but his eyes were distant. “I’m not in the mood for a conversation.”

Your stomach twisted. “You’ve been like this for days. I don’t even know what’s going on with you anymore.”

“I told you, nothing is wrong.” Mihawk’s tone was clipped, cold.

You stepped closer, frustration rising. “That’s not true. You’ve been shutting me out. You barely say anything when I’m around. It’s like you don’t even want me here.”

He sighed, setting the sword down on the stone table, the movement deliberate, almost as though he was choosing his next words with care. “I’ve been thinking.”

You crossed your arms, taking a step toward him. “About?”

Mihawk’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze dark and contemplative. “About this whole… situation.” He gestured vaguely toward the castle, as if the whole life they led was part of the problem. “About us.”

You frowned, stepping closer still. “Us?”

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with where this conversation was headed, but he kept going. “I’m not the kind of person who… needs company. I don’t need someone hovering over me, asking questions all the time.”

Your chest tightened, and you could feel the sting of those words more than you cared to admit. You’d always known Mihawk was a man of few words, but hearing him say it like this hit harder than expected. “So, what? You’re saying I’m annoying?”

Mihawk’s gaze flickered briefly to your face before he looked away, uncomfortable. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean, Mihawk?” you pressed, trying to keep your voice steady. “Because that sure as hell sounds like you’re pushing me away.”

He stood up straighter, his eyes hardening for a moment, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface—something raw, something almost vulnerable. “I’m not pushing you away,” he muttered, though the words sounded like they were meant more for himself than for you. “I just… don’t know how to let people in.”

You stepped back, a sharp breath leaving your lips. His words were a dagger in your chest. “You don’t have to be perfect, Mihawk. But this… this is just too much.”

His face hardened again, the vulnerability disappearing behind that familiar, cold mask. “I didn’t ask for your sympathy.”

You recoiled, shaking your head. “It’s not sympathy, Mihawk. I’m trying to be here for you, but you won’t let me. You keep pushing me away.”

There was a long silence between you, the kind that stretched out too long, too thick to ignore. Mihawk stared at the floor, visibly struggling with something you couldn’t quite understand.

Finally, he sighed, his voice barely a whisper. “Maybe I’m better off alone.”

Your heart shattered with those words. The finality of them, the coldness, the impossibility of it, made it harder to breathe. You turned quickly, not wanting him to see the sting of his words on your face.

Without another word, you walked off, your steps heavy and purposeful.

----

You didn’t wait for him to speak. You didn’t need to. Mihawk’s words hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating everything between you. “Maybe I’m better off alone.”

You walked away before the sting of his words could settle, the sharp edge of them cutting through your chest. You didn’t care that he was still standing there, staring after you.

Your feet took you to your room in the castle, but even as you closed the door behind you, the world outside seemed to close in. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at your hands, trying to push the burn behind your eyes. But it was useless. The tears came, slow at first, then faster. You pressed your palms against your face, desperate to stop them, but they kept coming.

Why? Why did he say that?

Your heart ached, and you couldn’t figure out what hurt more—the words themselves or the realization that he didn’t want you around. Mihawk. The man who had kept everyone at a distance. The one who had never once asked for anything. And you—you—had thought maybe you could be the one person to change that. But you were wrong.

----

Meanwhile, Mihawk sat in his study, his mind tangled in his own thoughts. He stared out at the night sky, trying to drown out the regret gnawing at him. What have I done?

He had never been good with people, never good with emotions. I didn’t mean it. She shouldn’t have to feel like that.

His words had come out too easily, without thinking. He had pushed you away when all you had done was show him care, patience... love.

He let out a frustrated breath, the weight of his mistake pressing harder on him. She doesn’t deserve this.

He rose from his seat, walking to the window, gripping the ledge with clenched fists. What now? He had always been alone, but the thought of you not being there, of losing what little connection he had with you, hurt more than he could admit. He wasn’t sure how to fix it. He never knew how to fix things.

She’s not going to forgive me easily, is she? He sighed, the silence in the air heavier than the night sky before him. I have to make this right... somehow.

----

The following morning, Mihawk woke with a single thought in mind. He couldn’t stand the tension, the silence between you two. The words from the night before echoed in his head, but now all he could focus on was the idea of making things right.

You were still distant, and he knew he couldn’t just speak his way out of it. He had to show you, to prove that he cared, even if he had never learned how to express it properly.

He moved to the kitchen of his castle early that morning, preparing a quiet breakfast, his hands methodical as he selected fresh ingredients from his garden. He was no stranger to cooking—having lived alone for so many years meant he’d developed the skill, even if he didn’t often share it with anyone. But this time, it wasn’t about the food. It was about showing you, in his own way, that he didn’t want to lose you.

Mihawk worked in silence, chopping vegetables and herbs, carefully preparing a dish that, though simple, was made with genuine effort. He took his time—something rare for him, but he knew it was necessary.

Once everything was ready, he set the table, the soft clink of porcelain and silverware the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

After a long moment, he took a breath, walked down the hall, and knocked on your door.

“Y/N,” Mihawk’s voice was quieter than usual, almost tentative. “I’ve made something. For you.”

You were sitting at the small desk by the window when you heard him. You turned slowly, your expression unreadable, and saw him standing there with a plate of food in his hands.

For a moment, there was silence between you, and Mihawk seemed to hesitate, unsure how to approach you. Then, finally, he stepped forward, setting the plate down on the small table beside you.

“I... I don’t know if this is what you wanted, but it’s what I could do,” Mihawk said, his voice steady but softer than usual. “I’m not good with words, but I wanted to show you I’m sorry.”

You stared at the plate for a moment, then back at him. You could see the subtle shift in his demeanor—his posture was less rigid, his expression more vulnerable than you’d ever seen before. You hadn’t expected this. He was never one to cook, and yet, here he was—offering you something he had prepared himself.

Tentatively, you reached for the fork, your fingers brushing against his as you took a bite. The taste was simple—fresh vegetables, some herbs—but it was good. Better than you expected, considering Mihawk's usual reliance on swords rather than culinary skills.

“It’s... really good,” you said softly, your gaze lifting to meet his.

Mihawk’s features softened, and for the first time, a small smile played at the corners of his lips. “I wanted to do something... something more than just apologizing. Words aren’t enough.”

You set the fork down, your hand resting on the table between you. “Mihawk,” you began, your voice barely a whisper, “I know you don’t always know how to show it. But you don’t have to shut me out. I just... I want to be here for you.”

Mihawk stood still for a moment, looking at you, taking in your words. It wasn’t easy for him to admit his feelings, but here, now, in the quiet of his castle, he finally let his guard down, even if just a little.

“I... don’t know how to do this,” he said slowly, his voice low. “But I don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

You smiled, reaching out to touch his hand gently. “You don’t have to be perfect. Just be honest with me. That’s all I want.”

For the first time, Mihawk let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as he sat down beside you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes.

“I will,” Mihawk said, his voice steady now. “I will try, Y/N. I’ll try harder.”

And in that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth of a simple meal and the weight of unspoken promises, you both knew that this was just the beginning—Mihawk, for the first time, letting someone in, and you, ready to stay by his side, no matter how hard the journey ahead might be.

[popcornpoppypop]

They'll Do It Because They Have To

Summary: Jack Abbot x Single mom!reader; The continuation of Like You. You and Jack reckon with Matt as he starts recovery.

Warnings: Slight violence towards women (no physical altercation), shouting, blood, broken glass

A/N: I heard the calls for more of this story and I was trying to figure out how I wanted to handle it. It took me a minute to figure it out. Just remember you all asked for it! I was sad when I wrote it so my characters must also be sad *insert evil villain laugh here*. Anyway, there will more to this. If anyone has any suggestions for a series title let me know! As always, I edited this half asleep.

The fluorescent lights made Matt’s eyes burn. He hated the sterile smell of the hospital. He had been stuck in a bed for a week and it was starting to drive him mad.

“You remember my friend Dana?” Jack asked as he wrote in a notebook. “She works day shift with Robby. She’s going to come help when your mom and I are working late.” He heard the bitter guffaw from the bed and looked up to see Matt shaking his head.

“I’m seventeen. I used to be able to do whatever I wanted by myself.” Matt could feel the anger rising like bile in his throat.

“Well, not ‘whatever’ but yeah, it’s going to feel weird for a while.” Jack said, closing the notebook and leaning back in his chair.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Matt snapped, grabbing his iPad from the bedside table.

“Not a babysitter. She’s just there to help if you need it. Until we get the prosthetic fit you’ll be on crutches, it’s not easy getting around on those fuckers.” Jack sighed, remembering when it was all he had. It was annoying having to hobble around, not to mention the arm rests dug into his armpits and left sores because he was too damn stubborn to get them properly fitted.

“How are my boys?” You came in smiling and holding a tray of smoothies.

“Just peachy.” Matt’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He’d entered the angry phase earlier than you or Jack expected. You were choosing to ignore the sarcasm.

“Got your favorite. Walsh said we’ll be able to go home tomorrow! It’ll be good for you to get some rest in your own bed.” You said, handing him his smoothie and running your fingers through his hair.

“Which we moved downstairs for the time being.” Jack cleared his throat.

“So I get no privacy now, too. Fucking great!”

“It’s temporary, just to make things easier for you.” You said as you took his hand.

“Nothing is going to be easy anymore!” Matt yanked his hand from you.

“I know. That’s why we are doing what we can.” Jack said, crossing his arms.

“Now I’m going to be an invalid in the living room like an old person and I have to have a babysitter when you two aren’t there. Dana isn’t even that hot!”

“Watch it.” You warned.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear she is somewhat hot.” Jack snorted. You shot him a look that told him he wasn’t helping.

“Matty, it’s our job to take care of you. You can hate it all you want, but I’m not leaving you to your own devices.” You looked over at Jack, unsure how to really deal with this.

“You’re about to go through Hell, Matt. If anyone is qualified to tell you how bad it is, it’s me.” Jack leaned forward.

“I just…I want to be normal.” Matt shook his head, wiping hard at his glassy eyes.

“I know, Kid. I know. Normal is just going to look different from now on.” Jack put his hand on Matt’s thigh.

“Everybody is going to stare at me now. I’m a freak.” Matt sobbed.

“No, Honey. You’re not a freak. You’re so brave.” You said sitting on the edge of the bed and holding his face in your hands.

“I am, I can’t even get the fake foot for months! I’m going to have a fucking stump just out, fucking disgusting!” He cried. You looked over to Jack who had his head bowed. He had the same thoughts when his happened, still did on occasion.

“Matt, I know that you’re angry-”

“Angry!? Mom, you will never understand this! It’s not anger! My life is completely different!” He shouted, pushing you off the bed. You land on your feet but are shocked by the forceful gesture.

“Hey! Matt, you can feel all the feelings and we’ll understand as best we can. But do not disrespect anyone, especially your mother.” Jack growled.

“It’s okay. Look, you’re my baby and will always be. I’m going to do what’s best for you.” You tried your best to keep the tears at bay.

“Oh just fuck off Mom! If you had taken care of me, told me not to go I wouldn’t be here!” He threw his smoothie at your feet. You jumped, the tears falling as you turned to grab something to clean it up.

“That is enough! You will not get physical with anyone! I won’t stand for that shit!” Jack barked, looming over Matt. Jack rarely got actually angry with Matt. In fact, neither you nor Matt had seen him more than snap. He made sure to keep control of his emotions; his father never did.

“You’re not my father!” Matt screamed. Jack stood still as stone, the words hitting him hard but not showing it. Not to Matt.

“That’s fine. Whatever I am, I’m going to make sure you get through this shit! You don’t have a fucking choice.” Jack growled as he went over to get you to stop cleaning the damn smoothie.

“I don’t fucking want help! I hate you both!” Matt’s voice was going raw as he shouted.

“Come on. Let’s go. Just give him space.” Jack held you up and started walking you out of the room, an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Everything okay, Dr. Abbot?” A nurse stopped outside the room.

“Yes. He threw his food on the floor, if someone can get that cleaned we’d appreciate it.” He said, holding you tight to his side as he felt the vibrations of your sobs.

“Of course. No problem.” She smiled.

“Be careful. He’s not himself today.” Jack sighed.

“It’s okay. We’re used to it. Never easy to go through limb loss, for anyone.” She gave a sympathetic nod and left.

“I’m taking you home. You need to rest too.” Jack said brushing the hair from your face. The tears left red trails down your cheeks, your eyes were sunken and dark. You couldn’t remember when you actually slept last. You’d taken to sleeping one of the family chairs that reclined, never wanting to be far from Matt.

“Maybe some time alone is what he needs tonight.” You shook your head. You were at a loss, you never thought this would happen. How were you supposed to help him if you didn’t even know where to start?

“I think it’s what you need.” Jack kissed your head as he tucked you into his side and went to the elevator.

“I need to talk to Dana before we go.” You wiped at your face, trying to look normal before people saw you.

“Hmm, yeah. Warn her.” Jack nodded. The doors opened and the chaos of the ER greeted you. It was jarring how much noise there was compared to the other floors.

“Hey, you two.” Dana smiled as you and Jack walked up to the counter.

“You two look like you haven’t slept in a week.” Robby said, almost a joke but laced with genuine concern.

“Feels like it too.” You murmured.

“How’s Matt doing?” Robby took his glasses off.

“Medically, good. Healing well. No infection.” Jack cleared his throat. The ED was used to Jack's stoic nature. They had never seen him emote outside of losing a patient; even then, he kept it mostly to himself—until Pittfest, when Jack saw Matt covered in blood. It had shaken the whole department.

Jack was put on family leave for the next two weeks. He told them it wasn’t necessary, but Robby insisted. He needed to take care of his family. He still would wander down to the ER when his mind couldn’t take it anymore. When he did, there was something broken to him in a way no one had seen before. Newbies would tiptoe around him, but after a while, they learned he wasn’t to be feared but respected. He wouldn’t bite people's heads off for no reason, he wasn’t that angry. He was just blunt and had little patience for sugar coating things. He was a monument of a man, strong but never cruel. Now, he looked like he would crumble if you looked at him wrong. His whole world was collapsing and he couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

“He’s…he’s getting angry again and I don’t blame him. It’s just…hard to watch.” You shook your head, trying to keep the tears at bay. You were so fucking tired of crying. You were just so fucking tired.

“Honey, it’s part of the process.” Dana reached over to hold your hand.

“Psych is supposed to talk with him, have they been by yet?” Robby asked.

“You’re joking right?” Jack snorted. “No. We’ve got him set up with someone in private practice.”

“I wanted to just let you know that you don’t have to stay with him, he’s not easy to be around right now.” You rubbed your face, the pressure on your eyes giving some relief.

“Honey, if I was only around people that were easy to get along with, I wouldn’t be a nurse.” She smiled. “I can handle an angry teenager, I got two at home.” She gave your hand a pat.

“He’s really good at insults these days, just be aware.” You sighed.

“Yeah?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“He said you ‘weren’t even that hot.’” Jack snorted.

“So I’m a little hot is what I’m hearing.” She laughed.

“that’s what I said!” Jack laughed. “But, he’ll put you through hell. Trust me, he’s already tried with me.”

“He’s family too. We take care of family here, no matter how much of a pain in the ass. Right, Robby?” Dana winked.

“I resent the insinuation that I’m anything other than a joy to be around.” Robby crossed his arms.

“You two go home and get some rest. I’ll check in with him when I can. He’s well looked after, promise.” Dana said, wrapping and arm around you. “Eat something, you’re wasting away.” She said.

“Thank you.” You hugged her as Jack lead you both out of the hospital.

The drive home was silent. You turned away from Jack, not wanting anyone privy to your tears. Jack wanted to hold you, make sure you knew you were doing everything right, but didn’t want to push you. The car pulled into the driveway, he took the key out and you both sat in the silence.

“We’ll figure this out.” Jack finally broke the silence. You nodded, unable to rely on your voice. You couldn’t stand the tension any longer and scrambled out of the car. Your chest hurt, like a vice gripped it. Your hands shook as you opened the door.

“Love.” Jack called after you as you ran into the house. You threw your bag down and went to the kitchen. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, why won’t they stop!? Your eyes were clouded with tears as you fumbled to get a glass, sending them falling to the ground in a flurry of glass shards. Your knees were trying to give out as you sobbed.

“Y/N! Baby, stop!” Jack ran into the kitchen, grabbing hold of you before you could fall into the glass.

“How can he forgive me if I can’t forgive myself!?” You sobbed, collapsing into Jack’s arms. His heart broke as he held you close.

“Love, none of this is your fault. It’s no one’s. This was…a tragedy. Senseless. You didn’t cause this. If you had told him no, he would have snuck out. He’s alive. Nothing else matters.” Jack whispered into your ear, just loud enough to reach you over your sobs.

“I can’t lose him, Jack. I can’t.” Your voice raw.

“You won’t. Trust me. We’ll get him back.” Jack kissed your hair. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” He said, guiding you up the stairs. “I’ll clean up the glass.”

Jack made sure you were comfortable, your eyes falling closed the second your head hit the pillow, before cleaning the glass. He swept it up, the glass glistening in the yellow light. He dumped it into the trash, small piece cutting his thumb. The blood trailed down his palm. He watched the red lines absorb into his skin. Was pain the only thing consistent in his life? Is that all he had to give?

He washed his hand in the sink, the bleeding finally stopped but the thoughts kept swirling. How was he going to get this kid through this? He barely made it. How was he going to bear seeing this boy in so much pain every day?

You felt the bed dip as Jack finally joined you. His arms wrapped around your body as he pulled you close. You learned quickly the different ways Jack would communicate his emotions without words. He was getting better at using his words, but he always preferred non-verbal communication. Tonight, he was holding you like you were the only thing keeping him alive.

The morning sun felt harsher than usual as you opened your eyes. Something angry in it, the weight of having to bring Matt home wrapped in it. You rolled over, wanting to ignore it a while longer and bury yourself in Jack, but he wasn’t there. You groaned as you lay flat on your back. He tried to never let you wake up alone if he wasn’t on shift. You knew he was just as anxious.

Eventually you got up, putting your robe on as you padded down to the kitchen. Jack was in the kitchen making eggs. He stood in his boxers and nothing else, the morning light illuminating his muscles. You stood in the doorway, reveling in the peaceful moment.

“Staring is rude, ya know?” He muttered without looking back. You gave a soft chuckle as you walked up behind him, your arms wrapping around his chest.

“Wasn’t starring. It’s called appreciating the art.” You kissed the side of his neck.

“I don’t think most people’s breath stutters when they look at paintings.” He scoffed. Your kisses trailed up to his ear, nibbling at his lobe. “If you keep going like that, breakfast is going to burn.” He sighed, leaning into your touch.

“I just want this moment to last a while longer.” You kissed his shoulder.

“You want to abandon the eggs?” he chuckled.

“Yes, but we should get ready soon. So, make your eggs.” You sighed as you moved to sit at the table.

“Your eggs.” He corrected as he plated them and put them in front of you.

“You’re too good for me.” You smiled as he sat next to you.

“No.” His voice was short, unnerved. “Not too good for you. Never.” He shook his head, avoiding eye contact. “Jack.” You grabbed his hand.

“I’m fine. I just…I know you deserve better. I want to be that for you but I don’t know how.” He closed his eyes with a grimace as if the thought caused him physical pain.

“I know that what I say isn’t going to stick. Not right now. But I promise you, you’re all I need and want.” You kissed his temple.

“Eat. It’s going to be a tough day.” He kissed your temple as he went upstairs.

The nervous energy as you pulled up to the hospital could be felt two blocks away. Jack held your hand as you walked into the hospital, opting for the front entrance rather than the ED.

“Good morning Y/N, Dr. Abbot.” One of the nurses smiled as you exited the elevator.

“Morning. How was he last night?” You clear your throat.

“He did okay. Didn’t want to talk to anyone. Nothing of note really. Dr. Walsh sent her discharge instructions if you need us to go over them with you.”

“Just print them out for us. I’ll handle it, thank you.” Jack nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you walked to Matt’s room.

“Good morning, Matty! They said your ready to head out!” You plastered a smile on your face, trying to convince everyone you were excited.

“Yeah, great.” He shrugged.

“We can stop at the diner and get breakfast if you want.” Jack offered. “The food from the cafeteria is never good.”

“I don’t want to be out in public.” He wouldn’t look at either of you.

“Okay, we’ll pick up some donuts on the way back if you want.” You offered, moving to tuck a hair behind his ear but he ducked away.

“Not hungry. Just want to go home.” His voice was flat, emotionless. It made your chest tighten.

“That’s okay. We have your meds at home, got some Zofran if you need it.” Jack said.

“Alright, Abbot clan! Lets get you out of here!” The nurse came in handing Jack a stack of papers.

“I’m not an Abbot.” Matt snapped.

“Matt. Please.” You sighed.

“Sorry. I’m going to take that IV out and you will be all set. We practiced with the crutches a little this morning but you’ll go down in the chair. It’s policy.” The nurse did her best to ignore the tension. The nurse made quick work of the IV and wheeled in a chair.

“Do you want me to help you or the nurse?” Jack asked, his hand outstretched and going from open to a clenched fist over and over.

“I’ll do it, Dr. Abbot. Policy anyway.” She smiled, giving Jack an out. You mouthed a thank you to her.

“Thank you.” Matt grumbled as she helped get him settled into the chair.

“You take care of yourself, Matt. Remember to do your stretches and take your meds. I know Daisy in PT and she’ll keep me updated if you start slacking.”  The nurse gave Matt’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Yeah, sure.” Matt nodded.

“Okay, let’s go home.” You sighed.

“I want to go to the ER. I want to see Robby.” Matt said, suddenly filled with nervous energy.

“Okay, yeah. Is everything okay?” Jack asked.

“I just…I need to see him.” Matt’s voice firm and insistent.

“Sure, baby.” You said, looking over to Jack who just shrugged. Jack took the lead wheeling Matt. The elevator ride was as uncomfortable as a breakup know you live together.

“Look who it is!” Dana beamed as she saw you three coming.

“Is Robby around?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” She gave a confused smile as she paged him. “How you doing, Kid?” She patted Matt on the shoulder.

“Good. Just tired.” He smiled.

“Yeah, you can never get good sleep in a hospital. A Couple nights in your bed will get you feeling like a million bucks.” She said.

“Matt! Look at you, Bud!” Robby came over, a smile on his face.

“Robby! I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.” Matt beamed up at him. You saw Jack’s grip on the handles of the chair tighten, you put a hand on his arm.

“Yeah, I got a minute for you.” Robby nodded, giving you and Jack a confused look.

“Can we have a minute alone? I know I don’t get privacy anymore but I’m sure you’re okay with me being alone with a doctor.” Matt spit.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course Baby.” You said wrapping an arm around Jack and guiding him away. Robby looked confused as you walked away.

“You weren’t lying about that anger.” Dana shook her head.

“I was hoping it would simmer down overnight. How dumb is that?” You gave an exasperated chuckle.

“Oh, Hun. Not dumb.” Dana gave your arm a pat. “You’ll get through this. Boys always come back to their moms.”

You watched as Robby spoke with Matt. He was smiling. Thanking him for something, saving him probably. Robby wheeled him toward you.

“Call if you need anything. You have my number.” Robby said, patting Matt’s shoulder.

“Thank You, Robby. At least you didn’t freeze.” Matt threw a glance over at Jack as he started wheeling himself toward the exit. All four adults stopped, too stunned to speak. You looked over at Jack, his face pale and broken.

“Jack-” Robby started but Jack just shook his head.

“He’s not wrong.” Jack’s voice was tight, almost angry but too sad to be fully so. “He’s good at finding the weak spots.” Jack nodded as he turned to follow Matt.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t how to deal with any of this.” You shook your head.

“No one would.” Dana sighed. “Call me if you two need a break.” You nodded and left before the tears started.

“I don’t know how they’ll do it.” Robby sighed.

“They’ll do it because they have to.” Dana shook her head as she went back to work.

[willowsnook]

i need you back

Charles leclerc x wolff!reader

request from @dovesboccianoifiori

—--------------------------------------

“I can’t do this anymore, Charles,” you said, tears streaming down your face as you stood by the front door of his Monaco apartment with your suitcases. Your boyfriend stood broken in front of you, eyes begging you not to leave. 

“Please, y/n, it will get better,” he tried to reason, but you laughed, shaking your head. 

“You don’t get it, Charlie, you don’t get it because you’re the prince of Ferrari; everyone loves you. You don’t have people constantly commenting on your appearance, what you say, what you wear, or anything you like on social media. They hate me because they love you,” you finished sadly. “I love you more than you could ever know, but I also love myself.”

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to your cheek. You leaned it to it gently before pressing one last kiss on his lips and leaving. 

You cried the whole way to the airport, feeling like you had ripped your own heart out, but you knew this was for the best. It had been a long time since you were really happy; the hate you consistently got had finally broken you down, and you knew you needed to be alone to build yourself back up. Charles hadn’t done anything wrong, but he also didn’t get it, so it was frustrating when you didn’t feel like you had anyone to talk to about it with. 

This would be good for you.

—------------------------

It had been a couple of months since your breakup with Charles, and though it still stung, you were adapting. You moved back to your family’s estate in Vienna and had connected with a bunch of old friends who were getting you through. 

You hadn’t seen Charles since you left, but according to social media, he wasn’t out in public often. He looked half-alive in the PR videos Ferrari had been posting. He had tried calling you a lot the first month, but now it was silent between you. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” your dad said, knocking on your bedroom door. You were snuggled up in your blankets, watching a movie. 

“Hi, dad,” you greeted softly. His face looked around the room in concern, not used to the messy state it was currently in. 

“Why don’t you come to the race with me this weekend?” He asked. “I think it will be good for you.” 

“I don’t know…,” you trailed off. 

“Come on honey, F1 is yours too,” he said, and you thought about it. You had missed being in the paddock for race weekends these past months. He was right; Charles didn’t own F1, and you were allowed to enjoy it. 

“Okay,” you said, agreeing, and Toto smiled. 

—----------------Belgian GP—--------------------------

The hot sun beat down on you as you stepped into the paddock, dressed in Mercedes colors. You made it a couple of feet before the eyes got to you, making you falter. It felt like everyone was looking at you, and you started to panic.

“Keep moving forward,” a voice said from next to you, pushing you forward. You gave Lewis a grateful smile as he fell into step with you. 

“I thought it would be easier,” you murmured to him. 

“It’s just because it’s your first race back,” he told you. “They’ll move on to the next thing in a few days.”

His words comforted you as you walked with him. Smiling at familiar faces and ignoring the flashes from cameras. Your dad was waiting for you in the garage, and he gave Lewis a nod of appreciation as you approached. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you. “Excited for today?” 

“Yeah,” you told him with a genuine smile. “Is Kimi here?” 

“Yeah, he’s on his side,” your dad said, waving you off. You and Kimi had grown close when he joined as a reserve driver since your dad was obsessed with him, so he was around a lot. You were closer to him in age than George, so your friendship was natural. 

Kimi lit up when he saw you jogging over to you, and you giggled. 

“Hi Kimi,” you sai,d and he wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around. 

“Ciao Bella,” he said, happy to see you. “I’m so glad you are here.” 

“Me too,” you said, smiling. 

“I need to see someone at Williams. Will you come with?” He asked, and you nodded. The two of you set out and you were temporarily distracted from your sadness until you spotted him. 

He came to a stop, mid-conversation with Carlos as he saw you. Carlos followed his line of sight, and his eyes looked pained when he saw you. 

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with Charles. He looked thinner, his usually vibrant green eyes now dull and rimmed with dark circles. The world seemed to stand still for a moment as you both stared at each other across the paddock.

Kimi noticed your sudden tension and followed your gaze. "Ah, merda," he muttered under his breath. He gently touched your lower back, ready to steer you away if needed.

Charles took a hesitant step forward, his expression a mixture of hope and heartbreak. But before he could approach, Carlos grabbed his arm and whispered something in his ear. Charles reluctantly nodded, casting one last longing look in your direction before allowing Carlos to lead him away.

You released a shaky breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "Thanks, Kimi," you said softly, and he smiled at you sympathetically. 

Kimi greeted another guy who appeared to be around your age as you made it to Williams. You were racking your brain trying to remember who he was, knowing he was a reserve driver. 

“Franco, this is y/n wolff,” Kimi introduced, and Franco’s eyes widened at your last name. 

“Who knew the daughter of the wolf would be so beautiful?” he said, recovering and bringing your hand up to kiss its back. You laughed as Kimi snorted, and Franco grinned at both of you. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n; Kimi has said a lot about you.”

“You too, Franco,” you said, and the three of you chatted for a bit. You instantly grew to like Franco, and his jokes and laughter made your day a little better. 

It was getting closer to practice, and Kimi had to head back to Mercedes, as he was driving George’s car, but Franco held your arm back. 

“Do you want to just stay here with me?” He asked. “I can keep you company.” 

“Sure,” you said without a second thought. You said goodbye to Kimi and hung around with Franco, interested in seeing what another team’s garage was like. 

Franco kept the conversation going with you, and at one poin,t the two of you looked at the broadcast to see yourselves on the screen. Franco grinned widely as you shied away. 

“Not a fan of the spotlight?” He teased, and you gave him an uneasy look. 

“More so, not a fan of what comes with it,” you said, and he nodded in understanding. 

“Is that why you and Charles broke up?” He asked bluntly before blushing. “Sorr,y that’s none of my business, but Kimi had mentioned it.” 

“It’s okay,” you told him. “But yeah, I was pretty much getting ripped apart every day online so I needed a break.” 

“I know it’s easier said than done,” he stated. “But you shouldn’t even worry about what those people are saying. They are losers, and you are a beautiful girl who shouldn’t pay them attention.” 

“Thanks, Franco,” you said, tears in your eyes. He let you rest your head on his shoulder, and you were thankful that a new friendship was starting to blossom. 

—-------------------------------

You and Franco kept in touch over summer break, and you even met up when you were both in London. He quickly became one of your closest friends; you found it easy to open up to him, and he gave excellent advice. Charles was not pleased about this new development. 

“Would she really move on that quickly from me?” He asked, irritated. Carlos gave him a pointed look from across the table. He was tired of hearing Charles spiral whenever he got wind that you had hung out with Franco. 

“Rebecca said that they are just friends,” Carlos said. “She’s allowed to have friends.”

Charles scoffed, “Of course she can have friends. But why do they have to be involved in F1?” 

“Maybe because her dad is the most popular team principal, and her mom is in charge of the academy?” Carlos reasone,d but Charles wasn’t listening. 

Charles shook his head, his frustration evident. "I just don't understand. We were so happy together. How could she just move on like this?"

Carlos sighed, setting down his coffee cup. "Charles, my friend, you need to let this go. It's been months. Y/N made her decision, and you need to respect that."

"But I love her," Charles insisted, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't just forget about her."

"I'm not saying you should forget," Carlos said gently. "But you need to focus on yourself, on your racing. Obsessing over who she's spending time with isn't healthy."

Charles slumped in his seat, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. It's just... seeing her at the track, with Franco... it hurts."

Carlos reached across the table, squeezing his friend's shoulder.

—----------------------------------

You were in the Williams garage again for the weekend because it was officially Franco’s first F1 race. Monza was electric, and you couldn’t help but feel excited for Charles as well. You’d been nervous when you arrived, but many people in the Tifosi stopped you, commenting on how much they missed seeing you with Charles. It definitely was a stark contrast to what you were used to seeing online. 

You didn’t stop the happy tears from coming when you watched Charles take the podium, and Franco getting points was the cherry on top. Everyone was going out that night, and Kimi invited you to tag along as his plus one. You threw on a cute red mini-dress and headed to the upscale restaurant with Kimi. Most of the other drivers were there, and you were having a good time until you realized the girl Charles was sitting next to was clearly his plus one. 

You tried to focus on your conversation with Rebecca and Carlos, but your eyes drifted back to Charles and his date. The girl was beautiful, with long dark hair and a dazzling smile. She seemed completely at ease among the drivers and team members, laughing at their jokes and fitting in seamlessly.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Rebecca asked, noticing your distraction.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, sorry. Just a bit tired I guess."

Carlos and Rebecca exchanged a knowing look. "We can leave if you want," Carlos offered kindly.

"No, no. I'm fine," you insisted, taking a large sip of your wine. But then you looked over again to see Charles date. Right as she pressed a kiss on his cheek, it was over. Tears instantly filled your eyes, and you pushed out of your chair, ignoring people calling after you as you moved toward the exit. A sob escaped your mouth as the fresh air hit you, and two arms were quickly around you. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Carlos soothed, rubbing your back as you clung to him. 

“It hurts Carlos,” you cried, and his heart broke at the sight of you. 

“I know,” he said. 

Charles had seen you bolt out of the restaurant and was only a few paces behind Carlos on the way out. He saw you in Carlos’ arms and was very confused. 

“Y/n,” he called out your name, and you whirled on him, anger rising through your body. 

“What do you wan,t Charles?” You asked harshly. His brows furrowed at your tone. 

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he said, and you laughed humorlessly. 

“I’m fine, just go back to your new girlfriend,” you spat out, and he flinched before matching your anger with his own. 

“Oh, so you’re allowed to move on but I’m not?” He sneered, and you stepped towards him angrily. 

“Please enlighten me with who I’m apparently moving on with,” you snapped. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, all I see are you and Franco going out to dinner, you in the Williams garage, you with him in London.” 

“Tell me this, Charles, have you ever seen any pictures of him touching me?” You asked icily. “Pictures of him whispering into my ear like your date tonight? Or of him kissing me?” 

Charles stilled at your words, finally realizing that maybe you and Franco were just friends. But you weren’t done. 

“I can’t believe you would throw this in my face,” you seethed at him. “I still fucking love you Charles! I’m fucking miserable, and you think I just threw our whole relationship away for someone else this quickly. Do you even know me?”

Your voice cracked at the last word, and pain flashed across his face as he took another step towards you. 

Charles reached out to touch your arm; his eyes filled with regret. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

You jerked away from his touch, tears streaming down your face. "Don't. Just don't, Charles.”

Carlos stepped between you, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. "I think it's time for you to go back inside, Charles," he said firmly.

Charles looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Carlos' expression made him think better of it. He cast one last pained look at you before turning and heading back into the restaurant.

You sagged against Carlos, suddenly feeling drained. "I want to go home," you whispered.

"Of course," Carlos said gently. "I'll call a car for you."

As you waited for the car to arrive, you couldn't help but replay the encounter. The hurt in Charles' face burning in your mind.

—--------------------------------------

Charles was desperate to get you back. He had sent flowers, jewelry, clothes, literally anything that would make you even consider answering one of his many calls. You accepted the gifts but weren’t giving in to him yet; his words from Monza still echoing in your mind. 

You currently were in the Williams hospitality suite, grabbing a coffee with Franco, who had his precious mate. 

“I like your bracelet. Is it new?” Franco asked innocently, and you shot him a look. It was one of the many gifts from Charles that had shown up on your door this past week. 

“Thank you,” you said, not commenting on it further. Franco rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. 

“I want to show you something,” he said, and you leaned over curiously. He had a bunch of screenshots of comment sections on instagram and twitter on his phone. “I know that you got swept up in all the hate you were getting, but look closer at it; look at how many people reply to those people defending you.”

Hesitantly, you took his phone from hi,m and you scrolled through. He was right; for every one hate comment, there were at least ten telling them off and in support of you. 

Your eyes widened as you continued scrolling through Franco's phone, taking in all the supportive comments. "I... I never noticed these before," you said softly.

Franco gently took his phone back. "That's because you were too focused on the negative. But Y/N, there are so many people out there who adore you. You shouldn't let a few trolls dictate your happiness."

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions wash over you. "Thank you for showing me this, Franco. It really means a lot."

He smiled warmly. "That's what friends are for."

Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Charles: "Can we please talk? I miss you so much."

You stared at the message, your heart racing. Franco noticed your expression change and raised an eyebrow. "Charles again?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "He wants to talk.”

“You should meet up with him,” Franco said. “You still love him, and this break isn’t doing you or him any good. You two belong together.”

After thinking about it for a second, you decided that you agreed and texted him back, saying you could meet him in the hotel lobby this evening. 

The rest of the day went by fast, and you soon found yourself waiting on a couch for Charles in the lobby, twiddling your thumbs nervously. 

You saw Charles before he saw you. He walked into the lobby, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His face lit up with a mixture of relief and apprehension as he approached.

"Y/N," he said softly, sitting down beside you. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."

You nodded, your heart racing. "Of course, Charles."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, both of you unsure where to start. Finally, Charles took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "For everything. For not understanding what you were going through, for not being there for you the way I should have been. And especially for what happened in Monza. I was jealous and hurt, and I lashed out. It was wrong of me."

You felt tears prick at your eyes. "I'm sorry too, Charlie, for running away that night in Monaco. I should have talked to you about my feelings instead of just leaving."

“I need you back y/n,” he begged. “You belong by my side, I can’t take another weekend of seeing you not in Ferrari colors.” 

You let out a small giggle at his request, and he relaxed. He reached for your hand and held it tightly, caressing your skin gently. 

“Okay,” you said softly. “I’ll come back, if you’ll have me.” 

Charles's face broke out into a grin, and he pulled you into his lap, your cheeks reddening with the embarrassment of being in public. 

“Charlie, we are in public,” you complained, nestled against his chest. 

“I don’t care, mon cheri,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.” 

For the first time in months, you felt a glimmer of hope—hope that things could be different this time. Together, you’d rebuild what was broken, stronger than before.

[revelboo]

May I request a Hound update pls? I need to eat him out fr 👀✨️

Sure!

Heavy Boots Pt 6

Hound x Reader

• Why isn’t he yelling? Is he just waiting until you two are alone? Because this is worse, watching him hover as the medic he’d introduced as Ratchet runs a scanner over you. Waiting to be punished and knowing it’s coming. Anxiety making it hard to breathe as the medic mass shifts and cleans the shallow cut on your palm, bandaging it while occasionally shooting Hound censoring looks.

• You have a few sprains, but nothing’s broken and it’s a relief. Even if he hates that you got hurt at all because it’s definitely his fault and your skin is coloring, darkening with bruises everywhere. He’d driven you to this. And you’re so silent as Ratchet patches you up, not protesting even when Hound carefully scoops you up and starts toward his habsuite, hesitating in the hall. Can feel your heart pounding and you won’t look at him, little shoulders hunched. Optics shuttering, he changes direction, cradles you against his chassis and carefully transforms around you, driving out of the base.

• Tense, you wonder where he’s taking you. His tires bounce over the ground and you have the thought that in a different life, you’d love this. Had always enjoyed scifi as a kid, but living it yourself? It’s terrifying. Stretches of dirt and scraggly bushes give way to grass and trees and he heads into the tree line down a rutted out path. Why won’t he say something? Anything? Maybe he’s dumping you like a dog he no longer wants, carrying you far enough away you can’t wander back home. “Please don’t leave me out here,” you whisper.

• You really do think he’s that awful, don’t you? Not that he doesn’t deserve it. “I’m not. I just, I wanted to show you the lake. That’s all,” he says as he stops and carefully transforms, crouching to cup you in his hands. “I, we need to talk.” Moving closer to the lake and easing down, hesitantly lets you slide out of his hand into the grass and your fingers fist in it as you stare at the lake, not him. Deserves to be snubbed. “I’m sorry. About everything.”

• Staring out at the sun shimmering on the water’s surface, you don’t trust this. Because your family doesn’t talk things out. They scream at each other. At you. Throw things, backhand each other. It’s why you’d bailed and got a crappy apartment with a friend first chance you got. You’re broke all the time, but you’d been free. You’d not been afraid and anxious. “I was doing okay. For the first time ever, I was okay,” you whisper, surprised you can say the words and he shifts behind you to make you tense.

• Venting as you go still, shoulders lifting, it clicks to make him feel even worse. You really do think he’s going to hurt you if you say something he doesn’t like. Moving slightly away, he sits beside you. “I royally fragged this up,” he murmurs and you glance at him, your body dappled in sun and shadow through the leaves and he lays back in the grass. “I don’t know what I was thinking-no. I wasn’t thinking. We’ve just been fighting so long and I don’t want to do this anymore. I wanted,” he begins and trails off embarrassed.

• It’s easier when he’s not looking at you. Slowly realizing that maybe you’re not going to be punished. That he’s more angry at himself than you and it’s a new feeling. “What did you want?” You ask, voice a whisper, drawing your legs up and picking at the bandage around your hand with your nails. Your whole body feels bruised, aching, but the sun is warm.

• “I guess, to not be alone,” he admits, optics shuttering. Doesn’t mean to admit it. To lay it all bare. “It was stupid, but I’d convinced myself that I was helping you, keeping you from being snatched by the Decepticons, but I’m just as bad as they are. Frag,” he growls, clearing his vents loudly. “I had this thought that if I helped you, I wouldn’t be alone anymore. Wouldn’t be lonely.”

• He’s lonely? “There’s a lot of you in the Ark?” You’ve only seen a handful, but you’ve heard him mention names when he tells you about his day, trying to coax you into talking to him. But you can understand being surrounded by people and still so lonely it hurts. “Loneliness still doesn’t make it right.”

• “No, but maybe we can start over? Be friends?” That’s all he wants. Someone to be there waiting for him. To talk to. Dying a little inside in that quiet habsuite. “If you want to?” Head turning, he stares at you looking out at the lake. ‘I don’t know,’ you say, head turning away like you can feel his optics on you. And he deserves that. Knows he does. But it wasn’t a no.

Previous

[alaskan-wallflower]

eyes (2025 redraw)

i’m very glad i finished this lol—i spent quite some time on it—this definitely caters more to me and my personal designs (which i’ll explain under the cut for those who wanna read it) but i had a lot of fun with this :)) im not usually a soft shading/airbrush person and ive never really done it before, so this was a new experience, but im glad i tried something new :) i still prefer hatching tho

here’s a side by side for comparison

i think this is almost an exact year later too? idk i’ll have to check the posting date of the first one lo)

rambling under the cut if you’re interested :)

ponyboy’s is actually my least favorite one 😭 but honestly i think he does actually have grey green eyes rather than just green eyes like some people say. i just think they’re leaning more towards green rather than being completely green. also i know his hair is more ginger than auburn here. but yk what its ok

sodapop with heterochromia!! this one kinda came to me cause i saw a bunch of people talking about how both movie and musical sodapop have creepy blue eyes while in canon soda’s described with warm brown eyes, and i really liked both so !! kinda combined ‘em. also freckles! my guy has a LOT of ‘em

darry…i don’t like how his came out :/ but i think he’s another one whose eyes are more blue than green, although there’s definitely a hint of green if you look closely. if his looks jumbled it’s cause i merged the layers early and closed out of the app and once you do that you can’t undo it and i had to move some stuff around so that’s why some things look off

johnny’s was a lot of fun tbh—i’ve mentioned a few times but i headcanon that johnny has vitiligo. i tried showing that? i dunno if i did a very good job, i used references as best i could and tried to shade it with my utmost effort but idk if it really worked? also his eye scar! i forgot that in my previous drawing of johnny, which i realized after posting it, but i tried to go with the “big and hard to look at” part of it but i don’t think i did a very good job admittedly—

dally!! dally gave me a chance to kinda show myself with this cause i headcanon that dally has albinism (cause i have it and y’know, i wanted to add it for my own self indulgence)—i used myself as reference for this (minus the hair and with a bit of exaggeration to fit my style better) but i really like how his turned out!! i assumed he’d have some facial scarring too tbh from the fights he’s gotten into, and i wanted to add it in.

two bit—honestly, admittedly, his design is the only one i prefer from the musical over the movie (minus pony) but i still really like the movie/book description since its classic, so i figured why not add both aspects? personally i headcanon two bit to be half polynesian and half irish, and i kept the ginger hair because i thought it was neat and i like it, so i kept it. i also really like him having stormy grey eyes, and i kind do have my own concept for him that’s easier to draw than describe so i guess if/when i make a lineup for all of the gang it’ll be there.

steve…okay i had a change of heart with steve yesterday lol—an anon came to me about steve with green eyes and i had originally said that personally, i headcanoned steve had brown/black eyes…BUT then i thought about it and was like “why not both?” so boom, hazel. (i also think tom cruise has hazel eyes, no? idk) BUT there’s a reason for this. ponyboy originally says he “hates most guys with green eyes” and it kinda made me think like ��oh, maybe ponyboy sees steve as one of those guys with green eyes” because he doesn’t like him, but maybe part of both of their character development is go from “steve has green eyes” to “maybe he doesn’t”. it’s more for my own symbolism than anything. oh, also he has a slit eyebrow because he thought it looked tuff and thought it’d look stupid to let it grow back so he just keeps it cut. also rather than “complicated swirls” i kinda think he has big, untamable hair so i tried displaying that, but thats another thing that’ll look better if i get to drawing a lineup lol

sorry steve’s was so long, i just put a lot of thought into that one far—

also just some little things but ive never really done airbrushing before so this was kinda new (which is prolly why they look kinda ehhhh but yk what it’s okay, i tried something new even tho i didn’t want to so i consider it a win

i dunno, i switch between liking how these turned out and hating them so idk, maybe you guys’ll like them more than me! i think ive been staring at em for too long

[wonderful-rp-resources]

Sacred romantic moments

Please specify the muse for multimuse blogs.

“ don’t go. stay. “

“ but you’re here, so stay. “

“ i don’t want to be alone tonight. “

“ just come over. “

“ let’s be alone together. “

“ i didn’t know where else to go. “

“ i don’t want us to be apart anymore. ever. “

“ i wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t important. “

“ you can talk to me about anything. you know that, right? “

“ just… be honest with me, do you hate me? “

“ i could never hate you. not really. “

“ you’re my friend, but… sometimes i wish you were more than that. “

“ we’re not just friends. you know that. “

“ i think i’m falling in love with you. “

“ can i hold your hand? “

“ yeah, you’re in love with me. “

“ just hold me. “

“ things would be so much easier if we were honest with each other. “

“ why can’t you be honest with me? with yourself? “

“ maybe you could stay? just for tonight? “

“ it’s dark outside, and it’s raining. my arms are much safer. “

“ you can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep lying to yourself. “

“ i can’t keep lying to myself, or to you. it’s not fair on either of us. “

“ i think you should kiss me. “

“ kiss me like you mean it. “

“ just kiss me. “

“ you shouldn’t kiss me right now. “

“ look me in the eyes and tell me you love me. “

“ you can’t lie to me, you know. “

“ you know me better than anyone. you always have. “

“ you’re pretty amazing. you know that, right? “

“ you’re just… you’re extraordinary. “

“ you’re good to me, you know. really good. “

“ you’ve made me the happiest i’ve ever been. “

“ i don’t know what i would have done if you weren’t here. “

“ our love can conquer anything. “

“ and for many generations to come, our love story will live on. “

“ i want you to marry me. “

“ if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, i’d say yes. “ “ what about today? “

“ marry me, name. marry me and make me the luckiest [x] in the world. “

“ your kiss could mend a broken heart. “

“ are you going to kiss me again, or do i have to do it myself? “

“ i could cry, that’s how much i love you. “

“ you’re worthy of my love. “

“ truth is that i’m so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself. “

“ maybe tonight, it’s you and me. “

“ i don’t know what the future holds. all i know is that i hope you’re in it. “

“ could you promise me one thing? “

“ promise me that we’ll be together, no matter what. “

“ it’s you and me, forever. no matter what. “

“ i didn’t want to tell you until i was sure, but… i’m pregnant. “

“ we’re going to be family! “

“ this baby, it’s the best thing that could ever have happened to us. “

“ i can’t believe this, we’re going to be parents! “

“ dance with me? “

“ may i have this dance? “

“ you’re my whole world, you know. “

“ don’t speak, just… kiss me. “

“ you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to that. “

“ i’ve been wanting to tell you for so long… “

“ so… is this like, a thing now? “

“ i always miss you, even when you’re next to me. “

” i miss you. i miss you so much it hurts. ”

” i don’t want you to miss me. it’s tearing me apart. ”

“ you make me happier. “

“ i love waking up next to you. “

“ my favorite thing is falling asleep next to you. “

“ come cuddle with me. “

“ this is torture, isn’t it? “ “ not in the slightest. “

“ do you love me? “

“ could this be something more? “

“ move in with me. “

“ do you think we should move in together? you spend all your time here anyway. “

“ are you serious? i’ve had a crush on you for as long as i can remember. “

“ i know you’re in love with me. “

“ you’re really cute, you know. “

“ you’re so damn attractive. you know that right? “

“ if anybody were to kiss me, i would want that person to be you. “

“ and right now, i think you should kiss me. “

[isak-dot-gov]

Communication

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Word count: 1281

My Masterlist :)

..................................................................................

The argument started over something trivial, something that shouldn’t have been as big as it now was, but with the pent-up tension between you and Rhea, it quickly escalated. You’d always been reserved, used to handling things alone, bottling up emotions because that’s what you’d known. Growing up, you’d always been the odd one out—the youngest by a lot, with siblings much older who never quite understood you or took the time to try. So you learned early on to keep things to yourself, never expecting others to help, never even thinking about opening up. But Rhea was different, and that difference was what you loved and what scared you the most.

As her voice grew louder, frustration clear in her eyes, you tried to hold back, to keep calm and prevent things from going any further. But your deflection only made it worse.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” Rhea demanded, her hands clenched into fists. “I tell you everything about myself. You know all my issues, my history, the things that haunt me. I’ve trusted you with it all. But you… I feel like I know nothing about what’s going on with you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Rhea.” You mumbled, hugging your arms to your chest. You looked down, feeling like a child again, misunderstood, alone, just waiting for the conversation to be over.

She sighed heavily. “I want you to open up, to let me in. I hate feeling like I’m the only one who’s here. This relationship is supposed to go both ways, you know? But every time I try to be there for you, it’s like… it’s like I hit a wall.”

You could see the pain in her eyes, but you didn’t know what to do. The words were trapped inside you. Rhea was right; you hadn’t opened up about your struggles or your past because, for you, that was just how you lived. It felt as though the world was only safe if you kept certain parts of yourself locked up.

“Look, I don’t need you to fix everything, but I need you to trust me enough to tell me what’s going on with you. I want to be someone you can lean on, not just… some girl you agree with until I stop asking.”

You swallowed, feeling a rush of guilt. That was exactly what you’d been doing. It wasn’t that you didn’t care—far from it. Rhea was the most important person in your life, someone who you wanted desperately to hold on to. But letting her in, truly letting her in, was so foreign, so terrifying.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” The words came out sharper than you intended. “You’re right.”

Her expression fell, replaced by a look of dismay and hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’re just… saying that because you want to end the conversation.”

You had no reply. It was true; agreeing with her was easier than actually engaging with the uncomfortable emotions stirring inside. The silence between you stretched, tense and heavy, until Rhea finally threw up her hands, her voice thick with disappointment.

“You know what? I’m done with this for now. I need space. I can’t… I can’t do this if you don’t want to let me in.”

She grabbed her jacket, her keys, and with one last, lingering look, she left, leaving you alone in the dim quiet of the room.

As the door closed, you felt that familiar pang of loneliness, a pain you knew too well. But this time, it was sharper, different. This was Rhea—someone who *wanted* to know you, who’d reached out to you over and over, only to be shut down. It hurt, knowing you’d made her feel like she didn’t matter to you, when the truth was the exact opposite. Rhea mattered more than anything. And now, she’d walked out because you couldn’t give her that vulnerability, couldn’t open up the way she needed.

You sat in the quiet, trying to ignore the ache in your chest, but it wouldn’t go away. It gnawed at you, until finally, you grabbed your phone. Your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say, but eventually, you managed to type: Can we talk? When you’re ready. I’ll try to explain. I don’t want to lose you.

The hours ticked by painfully slowly until, finally, a message pinged back: Okay. I’ll be back tonight. Just be honest with me, baby, please.

When Rhea walked back in, her eyes were rimmed with red, her expression softer but guarded. She sat down next to you on the couch, and the silence stretched on as you both grappled for the right words.

Finally, you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been fair to you. You deserve someone who… who can open up, who can talk about things.” You paused, unsure how to continue. “Growing up, I was the youngest by a lot. My siblings were so much older than me, and I was just… the kid in the background. It was like no one ever cared what I was going through, you know? They had their own lives, their own problems, and I was just… there.”

Rhea’s gaze softened as you spoke, listening intently, hanging on every word. You could tell that this was what she had wanted—an opening, a chance to understand you better.

“So, I guess… I got used to it,” you continued, your voice barely a whisper. “To not sharing, to not expecting people to care. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking for help because I didn’t think anyone would really want to listen. I thought keeping things to myself was just… easier.”

Rhea reached over, taking your hand gently in hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But you’re not alone now,” she said, her voice full of warmth and a quiet strength that made your heart ache. “I’m here, and I want to be here for you. You don’t have to be that lonely kid anymore. But I need you to trust me, darling.”

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat as the weight of her words settled over you. “I know. I want to try for you. I just… I don’t always know how to talk about what’s going on inside my head. It’s like there’s this barrier, and I don’t know how to break it.”

“Then let me help,” Rhea whispered, leaning closer, her hand tightening around yours. “I’m not asking you to change overnight, but I want you to try. Just… a little bit at a time. Let me be here for you, even if it’s messy or awkward. Let me in, and we’ll figure it out together.”

You looked up, meeting her gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice cracking slightly. “For being so patient. I know I haven’t made it easy.”

Rhea shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Hey, you’re worth it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe in us. Just… promise me that next time, instead of shutting down, you’ll at least try to tell me what’s going on.”

You nodded, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of loneliness that had shadowed you began to lift, replaced by something warmer, something new. And in that moment, with Rhea’s hand in yours, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could learn to open up, one small step at a time. Because for her—for both of you—this love was worth the effort.

..................................................................................

[imagining-in-the-margins]

A Perfect Day (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader spend a fall day together. A/N: This is an excerpt from my series, Here to Misbehave! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Halloween mentions, Spencer!POV Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But my love wasn’t a season, and when asked where I'd rather direct my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Her face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The offered truce was received poorly; her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration.

“I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are… wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway). I clutched tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating a little bit the way my voice jumped. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway.

The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough to let the full force of my affection show.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it.

Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate toward my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through an amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression.

“I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seat belt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away.

I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted I should.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. I took a moment to appreciate the memory before she'd interrupted the thought with a new one.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. But I think we were trying to prolong the high of the perfect day, finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour on our way home.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her?

And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me.

“This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season," I said.

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns. Her joy became even more obvious when we'd stumbled upon a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear.

The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

My love had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her nearly middle aged FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned.

And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. The final destination for us to rest our heads and reminisce over a day spent cycling through every autumnal activity. Just one more place to end the day.

Home, I thought as I looked at her. All there was left to do was go home.

The perfect end to the perfect day.

Want more? This blurb is actually an excerpt of my existing work, Here to Misbehave! Check out the series masterlist here!

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part four)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, ekko x reader college au

content: jayce ghosts you when you need him most...so you have no choice but to lean on your best friend, ekko

pining, mental health mentions, neurodivergence, lmk if i missed any!

notes: ekko pic...omg... (you may think this series is going slow but i hate a slow burn ass fic that has them fucking chapter three don't pmo...also this evolved way past just jayce and i need to do ekko justice...bc some of yall don't, clocked it)

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

“Do you know that girl Jayce is always with?” 

You arrived to class, ready to learn—but not about physics truthfully. You expected to cut corners, create friendly conversation about nothing, humor Viktor. When you got there, though, you had to ask him immediately. 

“Mel Medara?” Viktor looked to you with intrigue. “I know of her…but not much about her.” He leaned to his left, toward you, “Why?” 

“She’s just always…around? And we spoke to each other once but I was in a hurry…didn’t get much chance for a formal introduction.” 

“Are you certain that your intrigue is rooted purely in your inquisitive nature…or is there another reason you want to share?” 

“No-“ 

The sound of the door towards the front of the class opening interrupted you—it was perfect timing, actually. You would rather not have to unpack why Mel’s presence bothered you so much; truthfully it was an inexplicable feeling. Someone walked in, and you sat up straighter. 

“Hi, everyone! My name is Caitlyn, some of you may know me if you’ve ever been to the student resource center.” She smiled at you, exchanging a look of recognition. “I wanted to formally introduce myself… I will be joining as a TA. If you need anything and can’t get ahold of the professor, you can ask me your course related questions.” She moved to plug a laptop into the projector, “Here is my email for future reference.” She allowed some time for people to copy and take photos of her email down. “Unfortunately, today’s class will be canceled for an emergency…but I was instructed to relay to you that the quiz will still be held next week. It’ll be on vectors and calculating their angles. Be sure to refresh yourselves over the weekend and reach out to me should you have any questions.” People started to shuffle around her, getting up to leave class. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, guys. Feel free to use the space to get some other work done, or leave early.” 

“What the fuck, this was such a waste of my time.” You glanced back towards the board, making sure you got the email address right. “I have been so tired I could be sleeping right now.” 

“I’m sorry, I know you have a lot to deal with right now.” Viktor moved to the end of the aisle, grabbing his cane while slinging his bag over one shoulder. “At least you’ve been in tutoring. The quiz this week should be easier, right?” 

“That’s the thing,” you reached for your phone, “We’ve only just got to vectors so far. That was hard enough.” You hovered your finger over Jayce’s contact, never actually having messaged him. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you started texting him. 

hi jayce 

im sorry to bother you but i have my quiz next week and its gonna be on more stuff than we got to in our sessions

do you have any time to meet with me this weekend? if not thats ok, i can ask my friend

You paused, walking behind Viktor without looking up from the phone screen. 

i just need you

No, you shook your head, continuing the text. 

i just need your help

lmk

ty 

You grimaced at the text bubbles, hating how you split all of that up. You imagined his annoyed face, seeing all of these desperate messages. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t answer. You wouldn’t answer you. 

Viktor turned to you, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, just frustrated and irritated and angry…thats all.” 

“That’s not a great combination.” 

You shook your head. Without trying, Viktor could always cheer you up. “Unrelated, but did Jayce ask you about what snacks I eat?” 

“He did,” he looked over at you, “It was odd. He said something about ‘reinforcements’ for your guys’ tutoring session.” 

“Oh...okay.” 

Viktor would call himself a lot of things, including perceptive. He didn’t say much, but he noticed the way your eyes lingered on one another when you first met. He was aware of the way you spoke about each other, especially when it was just Viktor around. He simply arched a brow at you, observing your concerned look at the phone screen. 

“Maybe you should take the weekend to rest and recuperate.” 

“I would…but the quiz-“ 

“Just for today. Wait for Jayce to get back to you. Then you can focus solely on next week.” He nodded reassuringly. 

He returned the nod, liking the sound of the plan. 

If only Jayce had bothered to answer. 

——————

“Hi.” 

“Come on in.” Ekko stepped back, letting you into his dorm. 

“I know it’s so last minute, but I know nothing about angles …figured you could help.” 

“I absolutely can help and would love to.” 

You sat your stuff down, getting comfortable as you’d done dozens of times before. You turned a corner, washing your hands at the sink before heading to grab a throw blanket from Ekko's bed. 

He knew your habits, calling from the living room area. “I have the heated blanket out here, too, if you wanna use that one. Know you get cold.” 

You exited his room, wearing the slippers you left under his bed. “Once again, you are the best…because I am, in fact, freezing my ass off right now.” 

“Want something to drink?” 

“Always.” 

The two of you were so in sync—it had to be that way after Powder. It became worse when Vi blamed you, suspecting one of you said something to her to make her disappear. Even though you know you did nothing wrong, there was still a self-hate there. That you couldn’t be there for a friend who needed you—so much so that she left entirely. You couldn’t do that to Ekko, he felt the same. 

“So,” you pulled out the folder Jayce had given you, a slight frown on your face at the thought of him completely ignoring you. “I have this paper, its like a cheat sheet for vectors…but besides what Jayce told me I don’t know what to do. The TA said we also have to calculate the angles…that makes no sense.” 

Ekko grabbed his notebook, flipping to a blank sheet of paper. He sketched a makeshift drawing—surprisingly good for how quick he’d done it. You were always in awe of his artistic talent. 

“Okay, so here…is a light pole.” He moved his finger to the other side of the paper, motioning toward a little drawing of you, smiling on the sidewalk. “This is you.” 

“Wait I’m so adorable here!”

Ekko chuckled, side eyeing you a bit, “Yeah…” 

You snatched the pencil—quickly drawing in a stick figure of him. “This is you!” 

“Is it really? Couldn’t tell.” 

“Hey-“ You swatted his arm, “You’re identical in my opinion.” 

“If having lines for a body is identical…then sure. But anyways…not the point of my sketch.” He grabbed the pencil back, “Thank you very much.” He flipped the pencil, using the eraser side to show you the details. “Okay…light pole…you.” He smirked, knowing you wanted to interject. Ekko raised his hand before you could, “This is the distance between you and the pole.” He made up and wrote a random number in feet under the bottom, the same for the pole. “This is the height of the pole. This is all you need to find every angle and distance measurement.” 

The look on your face was one of pure confusion. “How does that make any sense whatsoever, Ekko?” You moved to close the book. “Actually, lets just watch a movie instead. I’m prepared to fail at this point.” 

Ekko grabbed the book from you, reopening it. “Well, I’m not, so let’s get to work.” 

He continued, explaining as best he could. It was no use, though, it just wasn’t making sense to you. You nodded, trying to get him to move on to something else. 

“Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah.” You reached to hug Ekko, “You’re the best.” Pulling back, you plastered on a smile, hiding the discomfort. You didn’t feel ready whatsoever. Suddenly, Ekko grabbed your hands, pulling your attention to him. 

“You’re gonna do great.” He lingered on you for a while, “Promise.” 

The doubt you felt made you want to hole up and skip class altogether. Eventually, it developed into a disdain for Jayce. When you thought about it, he was the reason you were going to fail…again. 

——————

You decided against skipping class on Monday, but you were definitely opting out of that damn tutoring session. If Jayce can’t answer a simple few texts, how were you to know you even had a standing appointment anymore. It made you feel less than worthy of a proper notice. Above all, it just felt plain unprofessional…he’s an employee after all. 

Walking into class and into this quiz felt like a walk to your execution. Midterms were quickly approaching, which meant you only had so many quizzes you could fail before the majority of your final grade was tainted by bad ones. 

Viktor greeted you as normal, moving over to give you a seat. “Are you prepared?”

“As best as I can be.” 

The beauty of college was that you did assessments in class and got the results as soon as you submitted. Knowing you would get your score back in the next few minutes had your stomach churning. An image of Jayce, carefree and nonchalant, popped into your head. Nothing was making sense. Reluctantly, you started choosing random answers—disregarding the calculator altogether. Before you knew it, your grade, a 56%, reflected back to you. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. You closed your laptop, getting up to leave class early. “I’ll see you later, Viktor.” 

Before he could reply, you were gone. Pushing through the door. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, texting Ekko. 

im done early, wanna meet rn?

He replied a few seconds later.

omw 

You picked up the pace, not out of urgency, but in pure frustration. Everything you’d been working towards wasn’t paying off. The time you spent not being with Ekko—with Jayce—was a waste. 

When you arrived to the dining hall, Ekko wasn’t there yet. You took the time to grab both you and him something to eat for lunch. Within minutes, Ekko showed up, that warm smile on his face as usual. He leaned into you, giving you a side hug while simultaneously grabbing the food from you. 

“How was the quiz?” You didnt reply, simply giving him a side eye. “Damn…I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault…but thanks for helping.” 

He’d seamlessly changed the subject—allowing the two of you to talk without the reminder of your failure that day. You didn’t acknowledge how fast the time had passed and truthfully, didn’t care. You hadn’t planned to show up to tutoring…much less give Jayce any notice. 

To your right, you suddenly heard a voice, interrupting you and Ekko. 

“Hey.” You looked over, seeing Jayce standing there. “I figured you’d be here.” He looks between you and Ekko, hands now on his hips. “You missed our session.” 

You raised a brow and crossed your arms over your chest. “Wow, really? Didn’t know we were still having those.” 

“Of course we are, you have those quizzes-“ 

“Had.” You interrupted, “There was one today. You’d know if you checked your phone.” 

He looked down, embarrassed at his phone sitting in his front pant pocket. 

“I’m sorry- I know this is important for you but something came up.” 

“What? What came up?” Ekko spoke up. 

Jayce turned to look at him, finally acknowledging his presence again. “Something personal,” he looked away, focusing back on you. “Can we talk alone?” 

Ekko spoke again, “Say what you need to say.” 

“I would, but I’m not talking to you.” 

A screech of Ekko’s chair resounded in the dining hall. You reached a hand out, gesturing toward them. “Ekko, please.” 

Ekko looked over to you and inhaled a deep breath. He was looking at Jayce again, but kept talking to you. “I’ll see you later, okay? Call if you need anything.” 

“Wait- Ekko-” 

Jayce gulped, sitting down across from you. You watched Ekko leave as Jayce took his seat, hands resting on the table. 

“What the hell is your problem? You ghost me then show up here with an attitude? I should be pissed…I am pissed! I failed because of you!” 

He nodded, knowing the weight of his being inaccessible. “I’m sorry.” 

“You said that.” 

“There was a personal thing, a family emergency-“

“And yet, your phone is still in working condition.”

You didn’t want to be insensitive, but it takes seconds to reply. A simple message would’ve sufficed. 

“My mom’s sick.” You froze—remembering that it’s just him and his mom. “She was in the hospital all weekend…it still hasn’t gotten better.” He paused, looking at you now, “I thought I owed you to at least show up today.” 

“Well…now I feel like shit.” 

“Don’t. Not your fault I didn’t tell you what was happening.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“Hope she gets better?” 

You reached over, placing a comforting hand on his, “I can do that.” 

He let you linger there, before pulling back. “How about this week, since I messed up so bad with scheduling…we meet as much as you’d like just so you can be ready. Shit, it can be every day if you want.” He nodded, “We’re gonna make sure you pass this class if it’s the last thing I do.” 

“Are you sure? I can be pretty high maintenance…” 

He leaned back in his chair, a nonchalant yet playful look on his face, “Not worried about it.” 

“Okay.” You shrugged, “If you say so.” 

The pair of you exchanged smiles, not at all prepared for how tumultuous this week would be. 

part five

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @angelicmisty @1800latenitecreep @venus-in-roses

[po3tbbygirl]

We’ve built a home

Spencer Reid x fem!reader (oneshot)

desc: In a place that never felt like home, reader’s grown tired of explaining herself—until someone finally listens.

content warnings: pre-established relationship, emotional distress, crying, cultural differences.

a/n: your girlie is OUT of her home country and you can tell 😖😖 I lowk cried a lot writing this…

Italicization = foreign/your language

She hated Virginia.

She hated how far she had to drive just to get to work, wishing she could go back to the days when her commute was a simple 15-minute bus ride.

She hated how every craving for her favorite foods came with the bitter truth that she’d have to make them herself. No restaurant around here could even come close to capturing the flavors of her culture.

She hated how much of herself she had to explain to people. Why she talked the way she did. Why she did certain things that felt so natural to her but seemed strange here. She was always defending or translating her life, just to avoid being misunderstood as weird, rude, or too nice.

Her days felt heavy, and even her dream job wasn’t enough to make up for how lonely and out of place she felt. Virginia wasn’t home. It never would be. But then Spencer came along.

He was lanky, with messy brown hair and a quiet awkwardness that made her smile despite herself. At first, he was just someone she met by chance. But over time, he became the one thing that made everything easier. Brighter. Lighter.

Of course, she still had to explain some things to him—he didn’t know her culture at first. But it was different with Spencer.

When she told him she needed lime with almost every meal, he didn’t question her. Instead, he made sure their kitchen was always stocked with it. Sometimes he’d even bring home extra, just to be safe.

When after playing chess or watching movies they’d accidentally pass the 3 a.m. mark and she just had to stay up until 4 a.m. for no real reason other than luck, he stayed up with her. No complaints. No judgment.

When Christmas came, and she explained how her family celebrated—eating pork, drinking fruit punch, praying together, singing songs, and breaking piñatas—he didn’t hesitate to join in. He did everything he could to honor her traditions, even when they were completely new to him.

And when she cried while setting up the ofrendas for her loved ones who had passed, Spencer didn’t try to fix it. He simply sat beside her, holding her hand and letting her cry, showing her she wasn’t alone.

Spencer wasn’t just good to her. He was perfect for her. He made her feel understood in a way she hadn’t thought was possible.

But there were still some things even Spencer couldn’t fix—or so she thought.

౨ৎ

“Ugh,” she groaned as she walked through the door, tossing her keys into the bowl by the door.

Spencer looked up from the couch, where he’d been reading a book. He frowned, setting it aside. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

She sighed, staying silent as she kicked off her shoes and leaned against the wall. Her face looked tense, like she was fighting back tears.

“I’m just tired,” she finally said, her voice strained.

Spencer straightened, concern etched across his face. “Tell me.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

She hesitated, standing frozen in the middle of the kitchen. She looked up, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“I’m tired of explaining myself,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m tired of people staring at my food at lunch. I’m tired of explaining why I talk the way I do, why I act the way I do.” She paused, her tears falling faster now. “And I’m especially tired of people thinking I’m dumb or slow just because I need a second to find the right word. They don’t realize I’m not thinking in the language they are speaking. I’m not stupid—I just need time. But no one seems to get that, and I’m so tired of it!”

Her voice cracked as she let out a sob, her body shaking with all the emotions she had kept bottled up for so long. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s driving me crazy!”

“Love…” Spencer’s voice was soft, steady.

She froze. The sound of his voice saying that one word in her language stopped her in her tracks.

He stood from the couch, walking toward her. Her tears slowed as she watched him approach, her shock keeping her in place.

“I know it’s hard,” Spencer said, his hands gently taking hers. “I know you hurt. And it kills me to see you like this. Every time you have to explain yourself to some ignorant person who will just shut you down, who doesn’t deserve to understand you, I become the saddest man alive.”

She stared at him, the warmth of his hands grounding her as her tears continued to fall.

“I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you this,” he said, dropping down onto both knees in front of her. “I know we have only been dating for a little over a year and know this isn’t a proposal because you deserve so much more than me kneeling in the living room in my ugly pajamas,”

Her breath hitched as she watched him, her heart pounding in her chest.

“But I promise you—no, I swear to you—that as long as you’ll have me, you’ll never have to explain yourself again. Not to me. You won’t have to feel like you need to translate your heart or your soul to me because I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep trying. All I need from you, my love, is to be you. The raw, beautiful, unfiltered version of you. And I’m ready for that. I’m ready for you.”

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she couldn’t move. No one had ever made this much effort for her before. No one had ever tried to understand her this deeply.

Without thinking, she knelt down in front of him, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m so sorry this isn’t a proposal, Spencer,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Because after what you just said… I don’t think I can do anything but want to marry you.”

They both laughed through their tears, and Spencer playfully shifted onto one knee. They stayed like that for a long moment, staring into each other’s eyes.

Finally, Spencer spoke, his tone serious. “I mean it, love. From now on, if you don’t ever want to speak a word of English to me again, you don’t have to. I’m ready for that part of you. You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

Her tears flowed freely again, but this time, they were tears of joy. Relief. Love. “Spencer… thank you,” she whispered. “I love you.”

He smiled, his eyes shining. “I love you.”

[daisymbin]

Hi belle!! ive loved all the mingyu drabbles ive read from u!! 💗 may i request a mingyu 2nd chance romance with prompt no. 5? 🥹

hello!! yes you definitely can!! & thank you for your compliments 🥹🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

second chance prompt #5: "I still keep your picture in my wallet."

mingyu had always been good at pretending. pretending he didn’t still think about you when he woke up in the morning, pretending that he didn’t miss the way you laughed, how your presence could fill up a room. he was good at pretending, until he saw you again.

when he walked into the café, with the sun hitting your face just right, mingyu felt his chest tighten. he wasn’t supposed to be here. not like this. he had told himself time and time again that seeing you again would only make it worse. but when joshua casually mentioned you were in town, mingyu couldn’t stop himself from asking if he could come along.

he hadn’t realized how much he needed to see you until now, until he was standing next to you, feeling that familiar pull he’d tried so hard to bury.

as he paid for everyone's drinks, mingyu didn’t notice the photo slip from his wallet until it fluttered onto the counter.

it was the polaroid of you at the beach. he’d kept it there for so long, tucked into the folds of his wallet, a small token of a time that felt so far away but still so close.

he watched as you froze, your eyes locking onto the photo with a recognition that hit him like a punch in the gut.

"why..." you whispered, your voice cracking. "why do you have this still?"

mingyu’s heart dropped. he wasn’t sure why he’d kept it. maybe it was because he still couldn’t let go. maybe it was because he knew, deep down, that the version of you in that picture—the carefree, happy version—was something he would never find again. not with anyone else.

“i still keep your picture in my wallet,” he admitted, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

your gaze never left the photo, your breath catching in your throat. mingyu’s chest ached, knowing how much the past still hurt you.

“mingyu…”

he ran a hand through his hair, wishing he could take back the way things ended between you. “i know. i know i messed up. i shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. but i couldn’t throw this away. it felt wrong to.”

you looked at him then, your eyes filled with so many emotions he couldn’t decipher. “you’re still holding on to this... after everything? after we—”

“i couldn’t forget you,” he cut you off, his words spilling out before he could stop them. “i’ve tried, but i can’t. you were never just a phase for me. you were... everything.”

he saw the way your lip trembled. “why did you leave then?”

mingyu swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought it would be easier if i just let you go. i thought maybe you’d be happier without me.”

“you’re a fool,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes. “you broke me, mingyu.”

he felt the sharp sting of those words deep in his chest. “i know. i know i did, and i hate myself for it.”

“so why now?” you asked, voice breaking. “why did you reach out now, after all this time?”

mingyu’s eyes softened. “because i couldn’t stay away. seeing you again—it felt like a sign. a chance to fix the mess i made.”

“but i don’t know if i can trust you again.” you wiped away a tear, turning your face away.

his heart cracked at the sight. “i wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t. i wouldn’t blame you if you hated me for what i did.”

“i don’t hate you,” you said quietly, voice almost a whisper.

mingyu took a step closer, hesitating before he reached out and gently cupped your cheek. “then why do you look like you’re about to cry every time you look at me?”

you met his gaze, eyes glossy with emotion. “because i still care about you, mingyu. i still miss you. i never stopped loving missing you.”

he let out a breath, the weight of your words settling on him like a heavy burden. he had been a fool. “i didn’t want to hurt you. i swear to god, i didn’t. but i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“so, what now?” you asked, looking at him through a haze of tears. “what do we do now?”

mingyu could feel the answer in his bones. he’d never been more certain of anything in his life.

“we try again,” he said, his voice firm, resolute. “we start over. i’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that i can be the person you deserve.”

your eyes searched his, doubt lingering behind your gaze. “you mean it?”

“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t,” he said softly, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “i’ve never meant anything more.”

you stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. finally, you let out a shaky breath and nodded. “okay,” you whispered. “but don’t mess this up, mingyu. i can’t go through this again.”

“i won’t,” he promised, leaning in and gently pressing his forehead to yours. “i swear to you, i won’t mess it up this time.”

he didn’t need words to tell you how much he meant it. his lips found yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. the world outside faded, and for the first time in a long time, mingyu felt like he was home.

[i-heart-yellowstone]

Hello, love how you write the Yellowstone characters and saw that you’re taking requests so i couldn’t resist😅

I have a request for Rip where reader is a Dutton daughter and has always had a thing for Rip. They’ve always been super close but he just never saw her that way and only had eyes for Beth. And then one day when Beth is being extra toxic towards him reader tries to comfort him and he realizes that he has feelings for reader as well. Maybe with a little sibling rivalry/bad blood between reader and Beth as well.

Dutton Daughters Quarrel

My friends that have siblings tell me that it is the greatest thing in the world.  I disagree with them.  My twin sister Beth and I have never gotten along since our mother died after she got paralyzed by her own horse during a ride with my sister and our youngest brother Kayce.  I knew one reason we never got along is because I was basically a mini version of our father, fully embracing the ranch lifestyle even after her death. 

Riding through the main gate and up to the barn I followed behind my father and my mothers dead body that was laying on her horse.  Tugging on my reins I climbed down my horse heading inside the barn to see Rip cleaning one of the horse stalls until he saw me drop down onto the dirt.  “Y/n, is everything alright.  Why are you crying?” 

“No! She’s gone.  My moms dead.” I sniffed back tears wrapping my arms around myself, sobbing on my knees before him. 

Rip dropped his shovel and came over pulling me in for a hug that I truly needed.  He held onto me for a long time and I cried against his shirt until someone came inside the barn.  “It’s going to be okay, Y/n.  You will get through this.  I’ll always be here for you.” 

“She should have blamed you for her getting hurt, not me.” 

Rip and I turned our attention to the new voice that belonged to my sister Beth that was standing in the doorway death glaring at me.  “Beth, what are you talking about?” 

“She always was easier on you.  She never made you go through what I did and now she’s dead.” 

Wiping away tears from my face I walked past her when Rip walked over and pulled her in for a hug like he had done with me minutes ago.  “You can’t hate me for what happened to her.  Her horse got spooked because of you.” 

“You always have to show off at everything.  You’ve always been a better horse rider than me.  If you hadn’t been doing tricks I wouldn't have felt so nervous on my horse.” Beth snapped at me before I turned on my heels and ran out of the barn. 

Galloping across the field on horseback my eyes noticed Rip sitting up on the hillside that overlooked part of the ranch all by himself.  Riding over to him I dismounted my horse walking up to greet him.  “What are you doing up here all by yourself, Mr. Wheeler?” 

“I’m waiting for your sister to show up for our date tonight.” 

Sitting down beside him in the grass once my horse had laid down behind us I spared him a glance.  “She wants you to take her out on a real date.  Hmm, maybe there is more women in her than I thought.” 

Rip looked at me softly.  “She once told me she thinks you were born with a more manly personality than a female one. Honestly I don’t see how that’s a bad thing.” 

“She says it as a dig to me because our mother supposedly liked me more than her when she would be tougher on her than she was me.” Shaking my head I removed my tan cowgirl hat and ran a hand through my messy hair.  “I don’t really understand how she can hate me so much for an accident that we had no control over.  She - she thinks I’m a monster for still riding horses on our seven generations family ranch.” 

“I’m sorry she made your life a living hell after losing your mother.  She shouldn’t have taken her anger out on you.” Rip responds to me placing his hand over mine softly. 

Footsteps stomped up the hill where we turned our heads and I rolled my eyes seeing my sister coming straight over to us.  “I knew you’d run off to her out of pity soon enough.  You couldn’t help yourself but start pretending to care for my sister.” 

“Is that such a horrible thing, Beth.  You haven’t been too kind to her over the years that I have been working at your family's ranch.” Rip got up from the ground and I shortly followed behind him.  He simply walked over to her with his arms crossed over his broad chest. 

My twin sister snapped at the lead ranch hand.  “She got both of our parents' love and now apparently you’re stupid enough to fall in love with her too.  So in the end I am left utterly alone.” 

“Hey! Don’t talk to him that way.” Stomping up to the pair I got up in my sister’s face after pushing Rip behind me so I was in between them. 

My sister spits in my face.  “I can talk to him however I want.  It’s not like he is your boyfriend or anything. Although I doubt any man would choose you when they find out you are just like our father.  I mean you saw that Monica told Kayce to leave and he came back here.  She realized that he was turning into our father just like you have.” 

“Don’t talk about her that way ever again, Bethany!” Right before my eyes I screamed when he made a fist and punched her in the face where she stumbled down onto the ground.  “I never should have started falling for you.” 

Rip held his wrist that was now scuffed up with some bruises where I slowly walked towards him examining his hand. “We should get this cleaned up.” He nodded, allowing me to lead him over to my horse and he climbed on behind me where we rode to the large barn since there was some medical supplies inside of there. 

Finding the box he leaned against one of the horse stalls letting me grab his hand and apply some alcohol to it.  He winced slightly but didn’t mind it too much before I wiped some of the bruising and wrapped up his hand in some gauze just in case.  “You didn’t have to defend me like that, Rip.  My sister and I have been butting heads like that since we were kids.  Her words aren’t as harsh to me emotionally anymore.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner that she’s not the one for me.” He grabs my other hand in his, taking my attention up to his deep brown eyes.  “For years I only ever saw you as my friend but after today I realized that I love that you may act like your father.  Except in my eyes that isn’t a bad thing cause I owe your father my life, plus he gave me you.” 

“Are you being serious because I have wanted to be more than your friend for a while now? I was just too scared that you’d never feel the same way I do about you.” 

Rip moved his hands up to cradle my face before he closed the gap and connected my lips with his own. Without thinking my hands flew to his hair and I was thankful he had removed his black hat while I deepened the kiss till we needed air to breath.  “We can’t ever go back to being friends, Y/n Dutton.” Grinning up at the lead cowboy I grabbed the front of his jacket bringing him in for another long kiss. 

Tag list - just send an ask to be added @tallrock35 @kmc1989 @pear-1206 @frost-queen n @chaoticneutral3

[skyfallscotland]

Quicksilver, by Callie Hart 🦋

She is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm.

Ohh boy. Personally I think she is none of those things, but that's me getting ahead of myself. God, I feel so anxious posting a book reaction after the Onyx Storm Debacle, but here we are, with a book I didn't love...again.

So...I started this one with a running commentary again (Throne of Glass style) but I couldn't quite commit. We will however approach it chronologically, because that's an easier way to show my thoughts as they evolved.

Would I recommend this book? No. And I’ll tell you why, but there are spoilers ahead so be aware of that.

Friends...I did not enjoy this one and I'm starting to feel like a crazy person. Is this just a massive reading slump? Or am I weird? Because everyone seems to think these books are the best thing since sliced bread and I've not liked a single one of them 😭

My first impressions? Saeris is so cliché. Like oh we're starving and can barely survive, you can see my ribs, but actually I can scale a giant wall and fight all these fully trained guards and win...ok, sure. It's giving 00's YA vibes but alright, I'm rolling with it.

I had no understanding of what it was I was doing, but if this was a world-ending gift, then good. Fuck this city and fuck this world. My family was already doomed, and what did I care for anyone else?

Bit dramatic, but whatever, I'll still ride with you. Who am I to judge? I did write Remi.

“I wear pants. Shirts. Things I can move easily in. So I can run, and climb, and—” Kill people.

"So cliché." I mutter to myself as I put the book down. Then pick it up again. Then put it down again and use the audiobook instead.

At some point, Layne would accept that I just didn't eat that much, and she'd stop loading up my plate with so much food. She'd slip an apple into her pocket for me or something.

*Deep breaths* Saeris would absolutely fit in on mid 2000's tumblr. Babe, this is such a weird flex to include when you’ve already made it very clear she was a starving orphan, ok?

We also met the infamous Carrion—more on that later—and her brother...who sucks. No two ways about it. I hated him immediately. Are there any decent book-brothers out there? Or just...no? I thought from the way he was acting he was going to be fourteen but no, he's like TWENTY, what the fuck 😭

So anyway, hooray! We've fallen through a portal to a new world and that's the stage set—then we meet Kingfisher. Oh man. Kingfisher.

Firstly:

This is a kingfisher. I just want y’all to know that. I know it’s not his ‘real’ name but it’s still what she’s crying out in rapture ok, a choice was made and it wasn’t a good one.

Anyway, surprise surprise, he's an asshole, but here’s the rub: he doesn't seem redemptive.

My jaw was screaming, I was clenching my teeth so hard. “Fuck—you—” “There you go again. Hungry, needy little bitch in heat, begging to be fucked…” he taunted. “Let. Go!”

I’m ok with enemies to lovers, but there has to be a hint at least that the ‘bad guy’ can be a decent person. There has to be something that hooks me about him—his entire personality can’t just be ‘asshole’, and above all, despite the fact he doesn’t like the FMC (even loathes her for all I care) he has to at least have some basic respect for her, otherwise I’m not down. That’s just my personal take, you don’t have to agree, but it makes me uncomfortable otherwise.

“I don't hate your kind. I'm just disappointed by how breakable you are. If I held you down and fucked you the way I'm imagining fucking you right now, I doubt that you’d survive it.”

Like that? That’s not cute or arousing in any way.

“That your body is betraying you in other ways. That I can smell you, Little Osha, and I'm thinking about drinking the sweet nectar you're making for me straight from the fucking cup.”

I do also think the smut was just not for me in this book, as a general rule, I did find it very cringe. Case in point ^

A FUNNY INTERLUDE:

—a look of rye amusement on his irritatingly handsome face.

LMAO this was meant to be wry, I assume? There were a few instances like this throughout the book, as well as typos and missing punctuation. Which, we’re all human, I get it, but it kind of annoys me a little when this was picked up for trad pub, pulled from KU (I bought it—twice!) and has since gotten a million dollar Netflix deal. Please, if we’re going to be doing that, the publishing house needs to edit the damn book. Honestly? I think it could have done with 200-300 less pages. A developmental edit was needed, let alone a final edit.

Anyway. Onwards.

So they make a blood pact, in which she agrees to basically do whatever the fuck he says, which is...tired. I'm tired. The book is tired. We're all a little tired here.

Kingfisher held out his hand and pulled me to my feet, making a derisive sound when he saw the cut I'd inflicted upon myself. “Baby.”

It’s just...this utter derision he has for her, his supposed (spoiler alert!) fated mate, that just gives me the ick.

Then there's this:

Kingfisher stunned me to silence when he dropped to his knees and started picking up the shards of broken cup. “It's all right, Archer. Hush, it's all right.”

Ok, this here is the first indication we get that he can be a decent person, and it’s not with her, it’s with some random character we’ve just met. Do I grow to like Archer? Sure, but right now I don’t know him from Adam, all this scene tells me is that Fisher is capable of respect and kindness, just not with Saeris. Be so for fucking real right now, that does not make you want to root for them. If this were your bestie you’d be screaming for them to run. This is the crux of it all. We had to get like 300 pages into this book for there to be a single hint of redemption in him and to me that's bad technique.

Clearly everyone else disagrees since they're out there praising it, but I've nearly DNF'd so many times by now, because you're 👏 not 👏 giving 👏 me 👏 crumbs. Please, give the reader something! It's all well and good for people to be out here going "well he's like that for a reason" (spoiler alert: the reason sucks, it's just the cliché 'I wanted to push her away for her own safety) but his reasoning means shit if people lose interest and don't get far enough to find out what it even is.

Note: by 'people' I mean the rest of the internet, not anyone here specifically, but since a few of you have said the same, just know that's a generalisation and I still love you! But I fear my point stands, his change of heart/any indication of kindness comes too late in the game for it to be an effective character arc (more on this later!!)

Anywho—

I shouldn't have moaned. I definitely shouldn't have told him that I wanted him. For the love of all the gods in all the heavens, why had I said that? I was going to throw up.

Same babe. Why did you? Why do you?

I couldn't believe we'd finally arrived here.

Me either!! 56% of the way in! We've basically done absolutely nothing but wander around and talk about how hot and mean he is for 300 pages but finally you're...doing things...with him 😬

Every part of me wanted to scramble from the bed and bolt for the door, but I knew that would be folly. Just like a hell cat, Fisher would give chase.

So terrified every part of you wants to bolt for the door...charming. Very hot. Love that for you.

“I could probably use a sho—” “Do not fucking dare finish that sentence,” he snarled. “I don't want a mouthful of soap and perfume. I want to taste you.”

Shower. She was going to say shower.

Another note, because I'm incapable of not shouting this from the rooftops when the occasion arises—vaginas are self-cleaning, there should be no soap or perfume going in there! You would have tasted her anyway you dumbass. You'd think he'd know that, given he's supposedly been in more of them than your local gynaecologist.

“And we can’t lie.”

*deep breaths* since WHEN? And that only makes it worse??

I'd imagined the words. Fabricated them out of thin air and somehow played them aloud in my own head in his voice.

Oh, hey Violet, how did you get here?

So anyway, then we enter the final conflict? Confrontation? Where she needs to go and save her newfound mate from under the mountain the bad guy's place! (oh and there's vampires, did I mention that before? No? Well there is now).

Anyway, turns out Rhysand Kingfisher was trapped there for 110 years with big bad Malcolm, who it's implied sexually assaulted him during that time, but we never address that. Why? Well this is romantasy and we only have six-hundred pages, why would we? Just throw traumatic experiences in there for the sake of it, why not?

Anyway—

“That's right. Fifty-five. He spent the next eight years trying to find the coin once he reached the center, didn't you, my love?”

I'm?????

55+8=63... what happened to the other 47 years? Guys? I'm????

Whatever, who cares about math! We're on the escape until—WOAH.

“It can't see or hear you. It tracks movement.”

Don't panic, don't panic, we all know how to defeat the middengard wyrm whatever that thing is! And we do. But not really, because everything in this maze regenerates, just like romantasy plotlines.

More fighting, more evil villain monologuing, etc.

THEN Saeris has to go and find a coin to break the blood oath Kingfisher made with big-bad, even though big-bad said he broke it himself five minutes ago during his evil monologue in order to make Fishie confess to...things.

“I release you from your oath to us, Kingfisher, Bane of Gillethrye. Now, go on. Tell your friends all about the deal you struck with us all those years ago.”

But no matter, we're off to find a coin and no worries, we've got that down! Of course in the process Feyre Saeris dies and gets brought back to life again as an all powerful fae/vampire queen hybrid. WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?

Not me, even I couldn't have predicted that double-doozy. Probably this guy though:

Zareth. God of Chaos.

Which? NO. Nope. No. Too late. FAR too late in the game for this. I'm out.

The way we went through so many boring pages of nothingness to this in the last 20% is truly something.

OK! SIDE CHARACTERS:

Danya was a complete and total waste of everyone's time, she existed only to be the bitchy, elitist mean girl side character who was mean to poor Saeris and occassionally made her jealous. This one-dimensional treatment of female characters grinds my gears. Even Everlayne, Kingfisher's sister was entirely useless, making Saeris the special female unicorn. Pretty sure this book fails the Bechdel test.

Ren was nice, I liked him, poor long-suffering man that he was.

Lorreth. Man, y'all can't shut up about Carrion and you're really sleeping on Lorreth. This man saved me from DNF'ing, he was fantastic. Put some respect on his name! 10/10 no notes. The guy you'd actually want to get with if this book were real.

He'd still looked dumbstruck as he headed off in the direction of his tent, cradling Avisiéth like a baby in his arms.

Carrion. CARRION. Ok straight up...is that really a word we want to be using as a name? Really? Is it relevant? Like did we do that on purpose because he somehow reflects roadkill? I figured we'd find out, but NOPE 💀

Who fucking knows at this point though whether it is his name. I doubt it, given Kingfisher's name is apparently not Kingfisher either. Personally though I still think that should have been addressed in the book. It's over 200k words, you can tell us why certain nicknames exist.

The thief held up his hands. “You're right. I apologize. I'm just a little on edge right now. I'm not my best self.”

Hilarious, there to cause trouble most of the time, 10/10, almost no notes.

“Are you going to tell me about my parents, or are you going to start undressing each other? Because I can leave. I don't have to, but I can,” Carrion said.

Except the part where he turns out to be a thousand-year-old fae too and a secret, mystery, vampire-killing-prince dude or whatever, there's a note about that and how it's kinda unnecessary to drop in the final 5%. Was it foreshadowed? Not effectively, no. Also Carrion Daianthus? Roadkill, crows, and...pink flowers? Yeah. That's him. That's the one 💀

Onyx. Token wild animal taken in as pet/familiar trope. She can have this one. He's cute.

Elroy. Dude's definitely going to become important again. How much do we wanna bet he's Fisher's dad? Anyone?

Anyway, this was wildly chaotic and I don't really feel bad about it because so was this book. It started out well in the first 5-10%. It was a slog to read between the 10% mark and 60%. Honestly, it only got better once they'd fucked for the first time, which was because Kingfisher's character did a 180 overnight with a big fat handwavey motion, like our FMC's magic coochie cured him of his violent tendencies. Like not to be crude, but I'm not sure there's any other way of putting it.

I think it's just not a great book, which I also think is a shame because the world is interesting, I loved the parts of alchemy we got (which weren't enough, imo) and the swords, the magic, the portals, the quicksilver, etc. I think it had so much potential and that's ultimately why it also bothers me so much as well. It feels squandered through a lack of refinement and editing.

Will I read the next one? Maybe. I'll let someone else take the hit first and see if it's any better paced this.

This has gone on long enough lmao, so I'll just leave you with one last quote that I think really sums up this book so, so much:

“Not that. The brother part,” she said in a loud whisper. “That’s not common knowledge?” “Well, yes. And no. It's just not spoken about. And it's very, very complicated.”

Yeah...

[fabbyf1]

Hi Besties! 

I know I sort of just... disappeared, and I’m very sorry for worrying you.

To everyone who sent me an ask or dm checking on me: I really appreciate you. I'm not going to publish them, because I don’t think you sent them to me so that I would publish them, but thank you so much for caring about me and taking the time to send me a note of love and support. 

It means a lot to me to know that so many of you think about me and notice when I'm not around. I think we can all agree that that’s a really nice feeling. It says a lot about who you are as people and confirms the fact that we have built such a lovely little corner of the internet together. I'm a firm believer in the fact tumblr, and any other fan space or social media website, should always bring joy and positivity to your life. And if it's not, you should do something else. 

Nobody is getting paid to be here. We all choose to spend our free time here to relax, and unwind, and share a laugh with other people who share our weird little interests. I'm so grateful that my blog, and everyone who follows and interacts with me, has always kept it a light-hearted, supportive place. I know a lot of other big blogs can’t say the same thing, and they are constantly receiving hate and rude people in their inboxes. So thank you for helping me keep this a safe space where we can giggle and gossip and support each other.

Let’s address the elephant in the room. 

I disappeared from the internet for a lot of reasons, but mostly because... I am feeling very guilty and overwhelmed about my lack of writing. It's easier for me to disappear and avoid it altogether than to feel like I’m disappointing anyone. 

But let me be clear: these feelings are totally and 100% my own. Nobody is making me feel this way. Nobody is sending me anon hate, or demanding updates, or telling me that I've let them down. This is an expectation and standard I have put on myself, and I feel like I am failing myself when it comes to writing.

And that’s just something I have to deal with. 

Writing fanfiction has been a major part of my life since I was 12 years old (albeit, very bad fanfiction at 12 years old.) It’s a hobby that I will never move on from. And honestly, the older I get, the more I fall in love with it. I think fanfiction gets a lot of hate from people who don’t understand it or have never read it, but fanfiction is an important part of fan culture and brings so many people together. 

Some of the most powerful, impacting, and lasting words I’ve ever read were all from fanfiction. The words that haunt me, or that I think about over and over again are all from fanfiction. And I think that’s why I put so much pressure on myself when it comes to writing. 

I don’t want to publish something that is not my best work. I don’t want to update something just to update it; I want it to be exactly the way I envisioned it, if not better. I want it to mean something to you. I want you to love it, or laugh at it, or cry to it, or whatever that fic or that chapter is supposed to bring out of you. 

I haven’t opened my google docs for more than 5 minutes in... months. 

Just thinking about it overwhelms me because I feel like I’ve backed myself into a corner that I don’t want to be in. It’s silly and not as dramatic as I’m making it seem, but I wish I could go back and delete a few paragraphs at the end of the last chapter of the mastermind fic, so that the next chapter could be something... different. 

And I know that I technically could do that, but that doesn’t seem right either, because it would be confusing to everyone who is current with the fic and especially those who have read it multiple times and are expecting the next chapter to be something. 

Silly, right? 

But I feel very trapped by my wip right now.

When I wrote my other long fics like Long Live or Vapor, I didn’t post them as wips and I could go back and completely change the course of the story if I wanted to. But you can’t really do that with a wip. (Again, I know I technically could, but it would be very confusing.) I had this entire story mapped out in a timeline of how I wanted things to go, and so far have followed that, but I’m feeling very... trapped by it now. That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. 

I’m going to find a way out of this writing slump I’m in. I promise you will. I have to. The fic, the characters, you, and I deserve this fic to continue and to grow into what I know they should be. I’m just struggling a lot with the idea of writing this next chapter because I wish it could be something different. 

I’m not sure any of that makes sense, but maybe you get it. 

I’m sorry I disappeared. 

When my fight or flight kicks in, I always choose flight.

I’m going to try and be better. 

Thank you all for loving me. 

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 100

One hundred fuckin’ days. God. Actually happened. 

I spent 3/4ths of the year drawing more Junkan art than I think anyone else on the internet ever has. Which might be presumptuous of me, maybe i’m just looking in the wrong places y’know? I’m a solid second place bare minimum.

And like, that’s still pretty funny right? This whole event is something I’m gonna cherish forever, the memories, the art itself, the friends I made because of it. But like, c’mon. I drew 100 fucking pieces, learned new skills like digital painting, animation, all that shit, for a ship that I used to hate, and a ship that for the longest time I thought was gonna get me fuckin banished to the deepest depths of the internet just for drawing a poor sketch of them kissing. This ship has become more deeply entwined into who I am as a person that it’s passed up Tokomaru, the ship that literally made me realize I’m a woman.

It’s gotta be at least a little funny, right?

Ah but enough of that, I can talk more on that subject a bit later. For now I reckon I should focus on our art piece for today! Wouldn’t you agree?

Yeah it’s the Wedding. I’d say even before Day 60 I decided the final pic of the Project would be The Wedding, even before I decided to draw a comic of the proposal. Because like, c’mon, it’s basic but how the fuck else was I supposed to end of the project? With something that ISN’T a wedding????

And very shocking to hear after this entire project has gone by, but I did in fact scale back this pic massively. You wanna know what the original idea was?? 22 images, each one depicting different parts of the wedding and afterparty, including the kiss at the end. And the kiss at the end? I was gonna feature every character from the 3 main classes + Ruruka, Seiko, and Yasuke. Fucking why??? Because Excess is all I know people ITS ALL I KNOW.

However I had decided that I wanted this project finished and ready before October, because I wanted to do the Vampire Fic to coincide with Day 30. And again, say it with me here, “Jem was severely burnt out on the project!” 

So it went from 22 images, to “However many I can get done in time + the big group shot” and then that became “Just the big group shot,” and then finally, i cracked and just drew The Kiss. 

Speaking of which before I divulge some more info about the original plan, i’ll get all the fun things about the actual art I did go through with.

As you can tell I shaded this differently from anything in the project. I normally have two different ways of shading art, I don’t think these are the proper words but I call them Soft Shading and Hard Shading. If you need immediate examples, Day 95 was Soft Shaded, and Day 94 was Hard Shaded. Generally speaking I prefer to do Hard Shading, as I think it works better with the rest of my style, and also just looks better in general. Soft Shading is what I do for pics with like, a very specific tone and energy to them that I can’t really put to words. It’s also significantly easier to do compared to Hard Shading. 

A few months back for a commission of Kaede and Marceline from Adventure Time hanging out (yes this is relevant) I was trying to capture a very specific aesthetic that I’m obsessed with called Frutiger Aero. This mostly was in the background, however when lighting the pic I needed a very specific aesthetic that I didn’t know how to capture with just one of my shading styles. So . . . I fuckin did both. And in my opinion (which is crazy because this requires I compliment myself) it looked fuckin great. That said it was significantly harder.

I think I’ve done it only one other time after this, but I don’t remember what the pic was if it exists at all. But obviously as you can see, I decided that to really commemorate the occasion I’d go all out and do both shading styles again. It was very worth it, but fun fact! Doing this style on Roses is a fucking pain in the ass and if I ever have to do it again I will fucking SCREAM!

Anyway, the pic was definitely a lot harder to work on because of that stylistic choice, but the end result makes up for it by a massive margin. 

Hope ya’ll like the dresses because they were the hardest part of this! Fun fact, Val (She’s back!) did a chapter for her legendary Year of Love and Despair fic where the gals are in wedding dresses. And the designs she came up with are amazing! I still really wanna draw em when I get a chance! However! I woulda felt bad if I just yoinked em for this, so I had to do everything in my power to come up with completely different designs. And given that I am a perfectionist, that was significantly more difficult than it probably shoulda been. But I did it! I really like how Mikan’s dress turned out specifically, I thought giving her a fit that covered up more skin than a normal wedding dress would be fitting for her. Also I really like drawing Mikan’s hair in a bun, I never had a chance to say that so I’mma say that now. 

Wow fuck I just realized there’s probably a lot of random details or thought processes I have on this ship that I just never got an opportunity to talk about, either because I had a different topic to cover on previous posts, or I just forgot, or I just didn’t have a good segway! Crazy right? 

Also yes! Shading Junko’s hair was heavenly~

Okay i’ve run out of words on the art. Time to tell you about everything I cut! Now I’m sad to say but no, I didn’t actually cut 22 planned images. I never got far enough to actually figure out each individual pic. Only a small handful, which I almost speedily sketched out for this post, but I don’t have it in me, especially on my current schedule. So i’ll just do my best to describe what I had in mind!

First piece would have been Mukuro being on Security for the Wedding, because of course. She would have also enlisted the help of Mondo and his entire gang, because that combination in this context sounds funny. Don’t worry though they were well behaved.

Ruruka was gonna handle the Wedding Cake, with Teruteru on the rest of the food. Either Ruruka or Mukuro would have been giving him a death glare during the process of course.

Behind the scenes Mikan would be getting prepped for the Wedding. And by prepped I mean Seiko, Ibuki, and Sayaka would be trying very hard to keep Mikan from crying as a result of how happy and overwhelmed she is (Ruining her makeup). Seiko trying to blow air into her eyes to keep them dry while Sayaka and Ibuki desperately try to find an outlet to plug in a hairdryer in because that would be significantly more efficient.

On the reverse, Junko would be doing all of the work on prepping herself for the wedding, with Ruruka, Yasuke and Tsumugi standing in the background, questioning why they’re even there. Junko would yell at them that they’re morale support in this instance. 

Warriors of Hope would of course be there being scamps of course, Kotoko would be the Flower Girl because I play favorites. Toko and Komaru would probably be there trying to keep them in line.

I didn’t have anything in mind with the afterparty but I more than likely would have drawn the drunkest Junko I possibly could. Maybe even Mikan too!

For the Bouquet Throwing I was gonna have Syo jumping at it like a feral animal, and thinking about it now I’d probably also have Tenko jumping for it with killing intent in her eyes.  

And I think that’s it for ideas I had prior to cutting them. Which means it’s time for me to get sappy about the fact that the project is finally ending! Fuck! Usually when I write these I try to have a decent idea ahead of time of what I’m gonna fucking say, this time however I’m just gonna talk, and i’m gonna keep talking until I’m either struck down by nature or I run out of things to say. Sorry! 

This is going to get silly, sappy, and maybe even a little venty, jump in at your own risk. 

If you told me at the beginning of 2024 that I was going to draw 100 days worth of Junkan related art, including a gif and a music video, 2 comics, and also get back into writing to make gay fanfic, I’d be so god damn confused. Because what the fuck right? And that’s not even counting everything I drew AFTER I fuckin finished! Like hold on a minute i’m gonna count up how many times i’ve drawn these two, including the individual comic pages from the three i’ve made.

204.

Fucking, I. I didn’t even know we passed 200 by this point. 

And that’s not counting the sketches I’ve drawn on paper in my sketchbook. It’s also not counting unfinished pics. It ain’t counting the art I might draw WHILE writing this! It’s not counting the stuff I probably forgot about while searching my files cause I suck at naming the aforementioned files!

AND I’M STILL NOT BURNED OUT EITHER?

I got burned out on the project sure but the moment I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted I fucking IMMEDIATELY drew a Junkan pic for Halloween. And then I kept going, and then I didn’t fucking stop, and I don’t think I CAN stop! I don’t even WANT to stop but you’d think by now I’d be like “Well I don’t have any ideas right now-” NO I HAVE TOO FUCKING MANY IDEAS! I KEEP FUCKING THINKING OF MORE IDEAS, AND THEN I COME UP WITH AN AU AND THAT COULD HAVE LIKE 10,000 MORE IDEAS. JUNKAN IS A MENTAL HYDRA YOU DRAW ONE PIC 2 MORE POP UP IN ITS PLACE!

I can draw these pieces in like a few hours if not shorter, because I don’t have to fucking sketch them properly anymore. I feel like I shouldn’t be able to do that! This ship has done unspeakable things to both my mind and body! And i’ve said it before but i’m not trying to complain here, as you’ll see when I start talking about this ship like it saved me from falling into the grand canyon. But it’s just, so, absurd???

Danganronpa is only like my third favorite piece of media behind Bo-bobo and Fairy Tail and yet I’ve drawn more art of JUST THIS SHIP than I have of just general art of those series! That’s not even counting all the other ship art I’ve done! Like Tokomaru! Remember Tokomaru? The ship that is responsible for me being a woman and being able to find the happiness of being my true self? I think i’ve drawn that and Syomaru a combined like, 20 times across my entire life as a DR fan. ALL OF THIS JUNKAN ART SAY FOR LIKE, 5 OF THEM WERE IN ONE YEAR. 

And bare minimum for 2025, assuming I don’t make ANYTHING ELSE OF THEM (Which I will. You know I will.) I’m gonna draw 21 pics for Junkan Week, because you know I’m gonna just draw EVERY prompt from all three lists. And then 30 more for the Month of Junkan (Will try to have that prompt list up soon btw!). So that’s 51 I’m going to do. That’s over half of what I realistically was supposed to do bare minimum for this project. That’s so fucking much, and I’m gonna do it, because I love this ship, and also it sounds REALLY funny if I did that. 

I think genuinely the only other ships I could fucking do this for are like, Toko/Syomaru or Flarelu. Maybe Togachako if I did a reread of MHA to get me back in the spirit for that series. And even then i’m not sure I physically have it in me to go that distance even for those ships. I certainly want to draw a lot of them, especially Flarelu because that’s a ship so rare that it makes Soft Junkan (before I fucking flooded the tag on tumblr) look like a bustling city.

Speaking of tags, I still think about sometimes how like, the Junkan Tag maybe got like, a post like, a few times every month. The normal amount for a ship of this general Rarity. And now it’s like, for so many pages, just half of it is me. Because I was asked to bring something to eat to the function for the buffet table and I fucking crashed a Food Truck through the wall. I feel bad about it sometimes, sometimes. I’m imagining the scenario in my head where someone who likes Junkan but didn’t check the tag super often because it wasn’t like, a super commonly updated one, and then pressing it for the first time in a year and being like “What the fuck happened here?” You know what still shocks me? Not once have I gotten hate for any of this. I was so fucking scared for like half of this projects creation that I was going to get bombarded with people angry at me for shipping this, and NOTHING. I’m not complaining I’m just confused. I have to at least have had a few people block me right? It’s just so eerily quiet. And it’d be one thing if it’s just a thing of like “Why would people who hate Junkan check the Junkan tag” because yeah, that makes sense. But also I’ve been putting at least one Junkan pic in both characters tags every day for 3 fucking months, there had to be at least one Mikan super fan who is eternally fed up with my antics. Like, awesome that I didn’t get harassed over a ship, that actually gives me a little hope that nature is healing, just. Crazy right???

So like. Fuck.

I guess I’ll get to the sappy shit now?? I think I ran out of things to be confused about in terms of what I did this year because of this ship. So I guess I’ll just start talking about how much it means to me, both the ship, and this project. 

(trigger warning, mentions of abuse, nothing super graphic in my opinion but could be mildly uncomfortable. Either skim ahead or stop here)

2024 kinda, fuckin sucked for me to be honest?? I have like 2 good things I can speak for it in terms of major positive points (Obviously I had other good experiences but if I just said “Oh I read a I Love Amy and it was one of the greatest things ever” it lacks the same impact). Not counting getting this project to like, work, obviously.

I finished the 5 chapters of my webcomic that I wanted prepped so I could actually make a website and start posting (ignore how I didn’t make the fuckin website yet). And I started dating my darling Yves and Rivette. Who I cherish deeply. I made other friends this year, a lot of them in part cause of this ship. And I went through a lot of emotional change. 

But to get that change it required I unpack a lot. And by a lot, I mean one bag that was filled to the brim. Gonna try real hard not to like, talk about this in excessive detail or turn this post into some woe is me bullshit, but I feel like I should at least make mention of it.

At the beginning of the year, I asked Yves (who I wasn’t dating yet) about my previous romantic relationship. And she confirmed to me that, based on everything I had told her about it overtime, that yes, it was abusive.

During 2021-2022 I was in a relationship with a girl I won’t name here, you wouldn’t know her of course, it was a completely different community. It started out as friends, I got a crush, jumped at it because I was still inexperienced with feelings, and it didn’t work out. And that’s the simple way of putting it, and that’s how I viewed it till Yves opened my eyes.

From the getgo it wasn’t healthy. She was manipulative, constantly had outbursts towards me, and yanked me around emotionally constantly. I would later find out that she had a previous history of just, generally being an awful person. Even after we broke up we still stuck around each other, mostly because I felt guilty for breaking up with her, and was also just generally terrified of her. The abuse was all mental of course, it was long distance so she couldn’t hurt me physically at all. 

I of course, didn’t process any of that as me being abused, I even viewed myself as being at fault for a lot of it. The experience was so bad that I identified as Aromantic because just convinced I wasn’t able to feel proper romantic feelings for someone. It wasn’t till much later when I got another crush that I realized that I’m Panromantic, and me being Aro (and very briefly Aegoromantic) was basically just a coping mechanism to write off my trauma. I still feel guilty about that since it feels like I devalued the importance of people who do identify on the Aro spectrum, but that isn’t relevant here.

Point is, a lot of bad shit happened to me because of that woman, and even after a year and a half of us not talking because we both mutually decided it would be better for us to not stay in contact, she still found ways to worm her way back into my life. One conversation we had just by chance, to catch up, that’s all it took and I was thinking of her again. I never talked to her after that, and I have her blocked now, but I didn’t need to for shit to hit the fan.

So I asked Yves that question, she answered, and I now suddenly had to deal with the fact that I was abused, and that I was traumatized as a result. And like, I never really viewed myself as a traumatized person up till that point, I viewed myself as someone who wasn’t very smart but tried her best to do good by people who didn’t have too much baggage beyond some sucky school memories.

When I had to unpack what happened that kind of spiraled into severe Self Confidence Issues and even more Self Hate. I struggled to accept even the slightest compliment if it wasn’t directed at my art. The reason I even quit weed is because I used it almost exclusively to suppress all of the negative emotions I felt. 

I’m in a somewhat better place now, I’m trying to give myself more breaks from artwork, rather than overworking myself constantly just to feel something (and being fully open, I realized near the end of december that I pretty much used Overworking as a form of self harm). I’m gonna really try this year to like, actually let people be nice to me, and in turn try to be nicer to myself. And I have goals to work towards for this year. But I wouldn’t have gotten to this point without two things. One, my girlfriend Yves, who even before we started dating helped me through multiple breakdowns and has helped/allowed me to grow into a (I hope) better, healthier person. And even after I got over most of my feelings related to my Ex, has continued to help me cope with my self hatred. I cherish every moment we share and wouldn’t trade her for anything.

And the other thing, which I know will sound silly right after I talked about my girlfriend, is well. Junkan.

Let me say this, I didn’t get into Junkan to cope with my abuse. I have toyed with the notion in my head before and the idea of it pisses me off to a quite frankly irrational degree. I was into Junkan before I realized my issues. If you want my coping mechanism it’s Alex from Minecraft and no I’m not explaining that right now.

That said, it, like all the yuri ships I like, was a source of comfort for me. Originally I read stuff like Tokomaru fics just to help me reduce stress, back when I dealt with really severe anger issues due to the online spaces I occupied. And to this day reading a nice, fluff fic can calm me down a bit. But now they can serve a much deeper sense of comfort, away from all the bullshit, and obviously, gave me a way to distract/calm myself from the storm of negative emotions and memories that filled the brain.

I see myself in Mikan more than I’d like to personally admit, obviously not to the extreme, but in aspects. So it’s just, nice to see a better timeline for her with Junko, ones where she gets to be happy and maybe even heal as well. It just so happens that I also think there’s a lot of genuinely good potential for the ship from either a canon or non-canon perspective, and Junko’s just a really enjoyable character. 

Working on this project helped too. It gave me a way to dive deeper into my love for this ship, and gave me a sense of purpose and validation that helped me work through the rough. Whether it was the really bad mental health days, or just a shit streak of commission work that tore away at me because my job even if I love drawing can be a real drag at times, and i’m unfortunately a workaholic (Trying to work on it though).

I think i’ve said it before but even something simple as Val showing her excitement over the art pieces I was prepping could genuinely brighten my day even while I was at my lowest.

And then when I really started pursuing this as a project, rather than just a secret stash to satiate myself and one other person minimum, I realized I could do something good here. For the people like me who loved this ship but might have been too nervous about expressing it, the people who were just really craving it, and the people who had already made all of the fics and art that sent me into this spiral of obsessive passion in the first place! A gift to all of them, to make ya’ll happy. 

In hindsight, may not like, the healthiest mindset for setting off this whole project. But hey it all kinda circled around into eventually helping my mental health recover. So like, win?

And i’ve already spoken on how Day 60 allowed me to feel a lot more emotionally free as an artist even if I still have my struggle days. I’ve gotten better just in general as an artist as I improve more at stuff like expressions, posing, linework, etc. And I’ve even managed to make friends with some of the people I used to look up to as idols and can finally just view em as normal people now. (Even if I might still be a bit excessive in my praise, I swear I’m normal about ya’ll besties I just don’t have like, a middleground for showing my appreciation and affection for my friends. It’s maxed out unless I’m tired as shit) 

I find myself comedically terrified of how this ship has affected me over the course of 2024, and how it will likely continue to affect me through 2025 even as I try to move onto other projects not related to Junkan. I wanna show off my love for Fairy Tail on my main blog, and I really think that with a full years time and the first five chapters done I really can get my comic off the ground and focus on that for the foreseeable future.

But hey, 2025 at least we got two whole Junkan Events. And with Junkan Week I’d like to keep that going for as long as I can, unless someone else takes the reins way down the line. So this ol’ blog’ll keep going for a good while I imagine, even if it’s a lot smaller. Maybe I’ll find other ways to keep this place active, I’ve considered just making it a one stop shop for all things Junkan though I don’t think I’m really suited to manage that. Maybe someone’ll read this and try there hand at it down the line, maybe someone’ll do their own 100 Days of Junkan! 

Oh hey did I ever tell ya’ll I was gonna make a comedic video just making a guideline for how one could make their own 100 Days Project. It was gonna be like, pretty obvious points just framed in a very exaggerated and comedic tone. 

Alright anything else I should cover? Fun facts? Deep personal anecdotes? Sappy stuff?

Lemme check my files, maybe i got another dumb joke image- 

. . . 

Oh . . . Well there’s somethin.

Alright, don’t get to excited ya’ll, but just for a bit of fun, how about one last day in the project. I know 101 days doesn’t roll of the tongue as well, but I think this is vaguely interesting enough to make up for that! Tune in tomorrow. Same time, same place. 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~