#I hope I wrote this well cuz I was watching something completely different while writing this

[shslpunkartist99]

Here that part 2 before I forget lololol

Tsuri comfort Morgana (it makes sense just hold on)

Tsuri didn't respond when Morgana yelled about their internal struggle with thoughts about their father. He didn't try to calm them down. He didn't try to pretend that everything was okay. Saying things like "It's going to be okay" or "just don't think about him" were cop-out answers that never helped anyone with this kind of problem. He sat there and listened. He let Morgana scream and curse, and he'd let them cry too, if they weren't trying so hard not to let the tears fall.

Only when Morgana went silent (other than exhausted breaths) did Tsuri pull the other closer for a hug, firmly yet comfortly holding onto their head, similar to how he would hold Leroy after he had a panic attack.

Morgana stiffened, but they didn't pull back from the hold. Yelling about personal shit like this to someone who was just a friend.. they were probably annoying Tsuri with this. But it wasn't something they wanted to bother his other friends or family with. This is something they should've gotten over already. Over 10 years, and they still struggle with this??

".. I'm so fuckin' weak.. I hate being weak, I hate it so much.."

"You're not weak."

Tsuri's cold tone tensed Morgana up even more. "You already know why you think about him and his approval." He continued. "Things that don't make sense and don't appear to have an answer drive people the most crazy. It's infuriating. I understand that kind of trauma will always affect a person even years after it happens, because there's no true resolution, especially if by your parent. Unfortunately, there will parents that feel they're right simply because you are the child. Someone like him will never give you the answer you want.

"That's why the only thing you can do is focus on your present and future the best you can. There will never be clarity from that man, but you have your other friends and family. And you have something better than approval: you have their love and genuine support.

"Some mysteries stay a mystery for various reasons, and it can hurt. You're allowed to be upset by it. Scream, cry, punch.. do whatever you need to do to let out that frustration. Just always remember, at the end of your release, that you have a better life than that bastard. It has made you stronger, mature, and smarter than you think. Rae, Otis, and Pico are your true family. Don't ever forget that."

.....

It took some time for Morgana to realize that they have been crying halfway through Tsuri's words. But as much as they were trying to hold it back before, they didn't bother stopping now. They always felt ashamed of their tears: why cry for that man? Why show weakness like this? Why break down and allow themselves to feel miserable?

For once, as messy as it was, it felt good to cry.

[dixons-sunshine]

js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third  person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

—

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

—

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

—

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

[hsr-texts]

I made another HSR oc so I hope you don't mind me putting his mini lore here. I just made him a couple minutes cuz I remembered that HSR canonically has social media (probably) sooo-

Social Media Influencer OC anyone?

~~~

Name: Yuhang

Pronouns: He/Him

Path: Destruction

Element: Quantum

~~~

Yuhang is a famous Social Media Influencer. Even outside the Loufu he is popular and talked about sometimes. As all social media influencers are, it took him awhile to rise up to where he is now, but as a long life species he had plenty of time. Some people enjoy what he does, the content he posts aren’t much. Some photos of himself, some of him promoting something, saying something inspiration (and other things, tbh idk what a social media influencer does in full-) However others think he’s let the popularity get to his head, while his fans thinks he’s just your average influencer that just so happens to have a big following

(But of course no OC is complete without trauma y’know)

Both are incorrect, to some degree (mainly his haters) Yuhang honestly hates attention, having eyes on him and having people treat him differently due to his “status”

So why did he become an influencer if he knew there was a chance this would happen? His younger sister. During an attack where many mara stuck monsters invaded, he was desperate to find his sister to take her to safety, if only he was fast enough then he wouldn’t have to have seen his sister dead.

A funeral was held and after it, he was allowed to look through some of his sister's items to keep as a memory. As he looked around, a diary fell out of a bookshelf (her room was preserved until this day) and landed on a certain page. One of the passages caught his eye.

“When I’m older. I want to be famis, to bring peeple motivation to continu on. To show everyone life is worth it and to follow there dreams. Is that cheesy? Maybee, but I want to help my broter to be more confident, so we can be famis togeter”

Despite her obvious spelling mistakes as she is young, Yuhang was able to comprehend what she wrote. He didn’t think he’d ever get over his fear of being looked at. But…

And that’s how it started, although it wasn’t his sisters final wish, it was a fish she had, a wish she wanted to do to in hopes to make others happy. And if she was going to be happy if she saw her brother cracking out of his shell? He was willing to put away his fears.

He never expected to be popular but he continued, and deep down he hoped that wherever his sister was watching him. That she was proud.

He never got over his fear, but he hides it well when he’s out and about. At home though he’s more like his usual quiet self as he writes stories and poetry.

His “online” personality is an energetic yet laid-back man. Always willing to help and wants to look on the bright side of things. His content shows this as well usually.

His more real self is, as I said. A quiet person, he’s more soft spoken and enjoys his alone time.

~~~

Honestly I love him alr despite me creating him just today. I should probably work on him and Aniya more before creating another one shouldn't I...

-🫧

Aww how lovely! He reminds me of the oc I'm working on actually!

Except she's not from Xianzhou and is from Perlas, a sea planet based off of the Philippines.

I'm still working out the specifics but I have a general idea now thanks to everyone's posts :D

[eroselless]

hopelessly devoted [2]

Pairing : Sebastian Stan x reader │regency au

Summary : When Y/N Brighton finds herself suddenly married to a strange older man, she thinks her life is completely derailed. Wha happens when she starts to get close to him?

Warnings : smut, lil bit of angst, fluffiness

Word Count : 3.2k

Notes : Y'all I kinda suck at dialogue, so I'm sorry if it sounds weird lol. Also I'm sorry it's a little late, I was trying to aim for Sunday morning but oh well. This will also be the last part of this lil mini series. I had lots of fun writing it. Hope you guys like it! Also just a little last note, this is my first time writing a full smut sequence (cuz I am very much I experienced, if you catch my drift) so apologies if it’s not the best :)

here's what I listened to while I wrote :)

find part 1 here!

It was in the very early hours of the morning when Y/N shot up from her sleep. Her brain was buzzing from a dream she couldn’t quite remember. She had awoken with a gasp, the feeling of falling bringing her out from her deep slumber. The night was still dark, the moon slowly making its way back under the horizon. She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, stars sparkling behind her closed eyelids.

The house was in such complete silence, you could hear a pin drop. Y/N sat there, for a moment in the dark. It had been three days since the party with Sebastian. As much as she tried to open up to him, it was nearly impossible as he continued to retreat into his office, asking not to be disturbed. Leaning back on her pillows, she stared at the empty side of her bed. Reaching over, she smoothed her hand over the untouched sheet as if to try to imagine how warm it would be if her husband had slept there.

“He’s probably sound asleep in his room, his dreams far away from me.” She sighed, swinging her legs out from under the covers and stepping out of bed. She pulled a thin robe over her nightgown, shivering slightly at the cold fabric. She grabbed a lit candelabra, holding it gently as she made her way down to the kitchens. She only realized she had forgotten her slippers when her feet had touched the cold tiles of the kitchens. Placing the candle on the counter, she opened the fridge and took out a small glass jar of milk. She sat down in front of the candle, staring into the dancing flame.

Sebastian was cold under his sheets, not having retired to his bed long ago. He tossed and turned, huffing as he sat up in frustration. Sleep seemed to evade him in every way possible. He made his way down to the kitchen, not having bothered to put on a shirt. As he neared the doorway, he realized his bride was sitting there quietly, her cheek leaning into her left hand. Her hair was pulled back, a braid adorning her hair. Her back was to him as he walked in.

“Can’t sleep either?” He said once he was close enough. Y/N jumped a little, choking slightly on the milk she was drinking. She cleared her throat once she had swallowed and nodded at him.

“I thought maybe milk would help but,” She shrugged and made a face. Sebastian chuckled and took an identical bottle of milk out of the fridge.

“It might help if it was warm, I think.” He started and flicked on the oven. He placed a pan on the stove, emptying the bottle into it. “I can warm yours up too if you want.” Y/N nodded shyly, getting up and walking to hand him the bottle. They stood there, watching the milk slowly come to a bubble. The awkwardness was almost palpable, each eyeing the other’s movements.

Once the milk had warmed up he poured it into cups, handing one to her. He sat down next to her, much closer than he had ever been. They drank their milk in silence.

Y/N cradled the cup in her hands, watching the last of the milk swirl around at the bottom. Sebastian watched her, examining the dark circles under her eyes. Maybe her head was as full as his was. He wanted to speak, to let her know that he didn’t mean to pull away from her. That he really wanted to open his heart to but couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself. Strands of her hair had fallen out of the loose braid, falling in front of her face. He reached over, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers grazed the side of her face, feeling the smoothness of her cheek. He moved his hand, his thumb on the side of her face, fingers gently wrapping around the back of her neck. He tried to push the guilt away, tried to mute it as he felt her lean into his hand. Her eyes were hooded, the light of the candle slowly starting to fade as they inched closer. He could feel her slow breath as his lips came nearer to hers. He was so close.

With a swift move of his free arm, he knocked over the glass bottle, sending it falling to the tile floor. He jumped away from her, startled by the noise. He quickly rose from his chair, looking around the room for a broom. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Y/N stood from her chair slowly. Her head was down as she picked up the empty cups and put them in the sink. The moment was gone. He shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He said, throwing away the pieces of glass. She really didn’t know what he meant. Did he mean he shouldn’t have accidentally knocked over the bottle? Or did he mean he shouldn’t have gotten so close to kissing her?

“It’s fine, it was just a little accident.” She mumbled, still not knowing what he was referring to. He put the broom back in its place and made his way out of the dark kitchen. He looked back at her as she stood silently by the sink. He nodded to her and whispered a small g’night before fading into the darkness and leaving her alone. Her eyes filled with tears as he slipped from her fingers once again.

It was in the late afternoon when she saw him next. She had sat down for a light snack after dinner, looking out the big windows of the dining room. The sun was making its way down the sky but was almost completely hidden behind thickening clouds. The whole day felt gloomy despite the ray of the sun that fought to peek out. Her husband had been quiet during dinner, dismissing himself the second he had eaten the last morsel of food from his plate. He wasn’t that hungry, he said. Where she sat, she watched as he made his way into the gardens.

Sebastian sighed as he sat down on the stone bench on the edge of the gardens. He looked forward, towards the darkening sky. From the library to the party to the warm glasses of milk the night before. His desire to have her close was rising but the guilt inside him kept him away. How could she feel happiness here? Away from her old life, away from the people she loved? He couldn’t help those words from echoing in his head. Even though he had been helping her family, giving them what they needed to eliminate their debts, he felt guilty for marrying her. He had taken her chances of a happy future away.

He turned towards the house as he heard footsteps walking towards him, rustling in the grass. He sucked in a breath as Y/N sat down next to him on the bench. She looked over at him, pressing closer as she leaned on her arm. They sat in silence, enjoying the cool air. It’s going to start raining soon, she thought.

There was something else in the air. There was a looming question, now that I'm here, what do I do now? Y/N could feel herself try to push a question out, anything to make him see her. Even though she was sat down next to him, why couldn’t they speak anymore? Why did he pull away from her whenever he got too close?

“Do you hate me?” She asked. Sebastian blinked. “Of course not.” He replied, confusion dripping from the question.

“Do I embarrass you?” She egged on, thinking back to the one moment in public, on the dance floor. He shook his head.

“Then why do you pull away when we are close?” She said. Frustration began to settle in him. He didn’t want to explain himself. Of course she didn’t embarrass him, but how could he explain to her the riddles that went on in his head? He stood up, shaking his head. He stepped in front of her, wanting to leave.

“No, no,” She cried, pushing herself up from her spot on the bench. “I can’t do this anymore!” She grabbed his hands, tears sparkling in her eyes.

He roughly pulled his hands away, making a move toward the house. The rain had slowly started to fall around them.

“Sebastian stop,” she begged, reaching for his arm again.

“This time you don’t get to walk away.” His eyes stayed focused on the grass below their feet, refusing to meet her eyes. He stayed frozen in place.

“Answer my question, why is it that whenever we get a chance alone, you pull away?” She protested. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid them of tears. His mouth felt dry as he tried to speak.

“I c-can’t” Her grip didn’t lessen on his arm. She was waiting. He looked back at her, tears falling from their eyes. Even here, with her eyes tinted red she still looked beautiful.

“I can’t bring myself to give in to the fire that’s burning in me. I can’t look at you and deny that there is love in me for you.” He spilled out. “I can’t help but feel as if I robbed you from any happiness that you could’ve had.” Y/N felt her heart beat louder in her chest.

“Every time I see you smile, I cannot help but feel sorrow grow in my chest because I can only ever imagine making you smile that way.” The pain in Y/N’s seemed to fade, growing into an adoration as he confessed. For weeks they had gone from sneaking longing glances at each other and pining for each other in secret.

“If you let me, I could be the happiest,” She began, bringing his hand to her chest. “I could be the happiest, here, with you.”

“My heart, it beats for you.” They stood there, their eyes locked on the other. And there, under the gloom and the rain, there was a different feeling in the pit of their stomachs. That warm fuzzy, euphoric feeling. Love.

He pressed his lips to her in a flurry of passion. He pulled his hand from her, holding the sides of her face. The walls built around each of them came crumbling down as they found themselves finally letting go. The saltiness of their tears was being slowly washed away by the rain, the pain falling away.

Sebastian pulled away from the kiss, resting his head on Y/N’s forehead. They were breathless, taking in the moment. Y/N leaned into his touch, smiling and pressing her cold nose against his cheek. Even though the storm was tearing around them, there was peace.

Y/N walked behind Sebastian as they made their way out of the rain and into their home. They slowly reached the top of the stairs, freezing upon coming face to face with their individual doors. Neither of them wanted to separate from the other, they stood in silence for a few seconds. Y/N watched as Sebastian looked between her and the door and then back at her.

“Will you need any help with your clothing?” she dared ask. Her voice was just above a whisper and for a second she questioned whether or not he had heard her. He felt his breath stop as he met her eyes.

“I suppose I will.” he said calmly. With that he guided her into his room.

She had only ever glanced into it a handful of times but had never even stepped foot in it. He had beautiful sage green decor with accents of gold. His bed sheets were a deep green and his curtains an even deeper green to keep the light from coming. They were pulled open to reveal the gloom coming from outside. It was similar to the size of her room yet there was a different vibe to it. The lights were lit, providing a soft and alluring vibe to the room. She was in awe of how elegant his room was, contrasting his serious exterior. Sebastian watched her, looking on with adoration.

She was pulled out of her daze as he stepped in front of her. She felt her cheeks warm up as he softly grabbed her hands in his. She peered up at him nervously, through her lashes. She pulled her hands away, bringing them to the buttons of his shirt. He watched as she carefully unbuttoned each one, admiring his tan skin as she got a wider and wider view of his chest.

Sebastian felt his heart flutter as her eyes traveled over the expanse of his pectorals. Her fingers danced over the faint chest hair and then over his shoulders as she fully peeled the sopping shirt from him. She trailed her fingers over his arms, taking one in her hands. She admired the veins that slightly popped up from under the skin as she traced them with the tips of her nails. He let out a shaky sigh as he pulled away from her.

A sense of lust began to grow in the air as he moved behind her. His breath danced on the back of her neck as he began to undo the knots of her dress. He pulled gently at the string, loosening it and taking it from her. She shivered under his touch, relishing in the lingering feeling of his fingertips on her back. She was left in her undergarments, feeling the cold air around her. She felt vulnerable. She had to still a laugh in her throat, what a metaphor for their current situation.

She then felt the rest of the clothes drop to the floor. She was now completely bare, her back fully exposed to Sebastian. She stepped out of the pool of clothes that were at her feet and slowly turned to face him. Reaching up, she gently pulled the pin from her hair. It cascaded down over her shoulders, still damp from the rain. Sebastian held in a gasp. Even though they had been living in the same house for weeks, he had never seen her with her hair down. Not completely. It was always up in a sort of way, but never lingering over her face like this. He kept his eyes up, trying not to look down at the swells of her breasts. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. He felt butterflies flutter in his stomach when her eyes broke away from his and he felt her hands make their way to the buckle of his pants. He took a deep breath in as he felt his member stir within the confines of his undergarments. She pulled his pants and all from his hips and let them join her clothes on the floor below.

They were both bare. Standing in silence, in the cool air of Sebastian’s room.

“Tell me you want to stop and we can.” He whispered. Y/N’s eyes met his, twinkling in the dim light. “I don’t want to.” she said, inching forward.

With that, Sebastian pulled her in. His thumb caressed her bottom lip before placing his full lips over hers. This kiss was unlike the one they had shared in the rain. That one, though filled with passion, had timidness to it. He had been holding back ever so slightly. She felt him push against her until she felt something hit the back of her knees and she fell onto the bed.

It was then when she felt self conscious. She was frozen on the bed with her hair sprawled out underneath her like a halo. Sebastian towered over her, looking at her with an almost innocent tint in his eyes. On instinct, her hands went to cover her breast and her legs bent, hiding her womanhood. He shook his head, pulling her hand away gently.

“Please don’t hide from me. You're so beautiful.”

He leaned over, pressing a single kiss on her throat. He looked up at her, as if to ask for permission to continue. Y/N nodded before he leaned over her again. He pressed his hands on the mattress, holding himself up as he trailed his lips down the valley between her breasts. She could feel her heartbeat start picking up and soon she was feeling it between her legs. She felt herself grow wetter as he suckled on her nipple, tweaking the other one with his fingers. Her chest heaved as she felt his fingers travel just below her navel. He pressed his finger there before moving his mouth down her torso. She let out a low moan, tingles erupting in the depths of her stomach. She felt her legs shake nervously as his mouth inched lower.

She uttered a sharp gasp as he suctioned his lips on her clit, circling it with his tongue. He worked his fingers in her, pushing them knuckle deep. Y/N subconsciously bucked her hips, wanting to soothe the red hot burning that was building up inside her. Her hands fisted the bedsheet until her knuckles were white. She reached her climax with a pop as Sebastian rode it out, hand still moving gently against her. He climbed on top of her as she pulled his lips towards hers, not caring that she could taste herself on his tongue. He placed a hand under each of her knees, slotting himself between them. His arms were pressed into the mattress on either side of her head.

“Slowly.” He said as he lined himself with her entrance.

He groaned as he bottomed out. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, feeling a sting between her legs. Y/N squirmed under him, trying her best to breathe steadily. Her fingers gripped tightly onto the tender skin of his back. A high pitched moan came from her lips as he reached between them to press his fingers against her little bundle of nerves.

“Seb —”

He nudged her hands from his back and interlaced their fingers, pinning her hands above her head. She rolled her head into his mouth panting. His jaw went slack, his lips just hovering over hers.

Y/N felt her eyes roll to the back of her head as Sebastian pulled one of her knees up to her chest, hitting a different angle inside of her. A heat began to spread through her body. Her words got stuck behind her throat as she felt herself come undone under him. A moan fell from her lips as she came once again.

At the feeling of her walls fluttering around him, Sebastian felt a coil inside him break as he came inside her walls. His head fell to her shoulder as they both rode down from their highs. Y/N let out a breath as he let his full body fall on her. It was comforting despite feeling slightly crushed under him. It felt nice. She pressed her lips to his shoulder, smiling as she felt him kiss her neck lovingly. A smile graced her lips as he rolled off her, wrapping her in his arms from behind. They laid there, letting sleep fall over them. Tomorrow would be different, a good kind different. It was only up from here.

tags:

@lharrietg @carleywhittaker @tonystankschild @headheartbellarke @baebee35 @lady-loki-ren @soap-bubble-nebula @chipilerendi @thekleonablog @gloryekaterina @pspice639

[2dmenenthusiast]

Let’s be sad together (Peter Parker x Depressed Reader)

A/N PLEASE READ!!: heeey so before we get into this, this story is told in the first person, which I know some people don’t like but I felt it was best for this particular fic because there is some self-hate in here and I didn’t want the reader to feel targetted and make them feel like shit? I hope that made sense. keep in mind this fic deals with themes of DEPRESSION, something I myself struggle with. So if you’re not comfortable with this, please don’t read. I’ve read plenty of x depressed! reader fics, and most of what I read doesn’t do the feelings justice or it romanticises depression. It’s usually like “oh youre depressed? Well i love you and boom youre fixed!” Yeah I hate shit like that lol. But I am certainly not trying to romanticise depression or mental illness by writing this. I wanted to make a fic people like me can relate to, the thoughts and feelings, etc. It was honestly super difficult, I wrote the first draft and completely scrapped it cuz I hated it. I really tried my best here, guys, and I hope you like it. And always remember that you’re not alone and things do eventually get better. It just takes time and a little help. Once again I tried to keep the reader as nuetral as possible so everyone can read! (I fucking suck at titles btw)

Plot: Peter notices something’s been wrong with you lately, and you prepare yourself for the inevitable break-up once he confronts you about it.

Words: 2,562

Warnings: Themes of depression and anxiety, self hate, angst

Loving Peter Parker was absolutely suffocating.

Sometimes I couldn’t decide if dating him was the worst or best decision I ever made, but I knew one thing for sure. He had me wrapped around his finger, and there was no leaving him even if I tried. Not that I wanted to. Peter is… well, he’s perfect. Sure, he’s dorky and can ramble about technical stuff that I can’t even begin to understand for hours on end, but if anything, those things only added to the list of reasons why he’s perfect. Oh, and he’s Spiderman. My boyfriend is Spiderman. In other words, nights were spent worrying about whether he’d make it home safely or not, and some were spent patching him up when he came knocking on my window after a particularly bad fight. He made me happy. Happier than I had ever been probably. So… why did I still feel this way?

At first, a part of me thought that being with Peter would… fix things, I guess. That maybe if I was in a relationship, it would cause all the rushing thoughts inside my head to go away. And at first, it did help. There were more nights that I could sleep peacefully, and there wasn’t a constant feeling of anxiousness sitting in my stomach. But of course, that relief never lasted long. I knew it wouldn’t, but a part of me hoped it would.

Overthinking had always been an issue. Every situation had a “what if,” and this was no different. Thoughts of Peter leaving me began to occupy my mind almost every second of every day, and now, rather than feeling relaxed in his presence, I felt a constant feeling of anxiety. Like my heart was stuck in my throat and I couldn’t breathe, an invisible weight crushing my chest. Sometimes I’d get so overwhelmed with my feelings that I’d have to leave the room and calm myself down so that I wouldn’t cry. And other days I’d completely close myself off from everyone, laying in my bed all day and feeling so upset and worthless.

This wasn’t Peter’s fault. No, he treated me like fucking royalty. This was due to my own dumb self and my own dumb emotions and my dumb fucking ways of overthinking shit I shouldn’t even be thinking about. But it’s always been like this, and no amount of listening to sad songs and telling myself everything was going to be okay was going to change that. I wasn’t immune to feeling insecure either. Especially when Peter hung out with his other friends, but I immediately told myself not to think about that stuff. I didn’t want to be that partner that gets jealous of their partner’s friends when I’m not getting every second of their attention. No, thinking that way felt toxic, and that was the last thing I wanted to be.

But sometimes, I couldn’t help those thoughts from sinking in. There were so many people out there. So many people that were funnier and better looking than me… So why did Peter settle for me? Why would he want to date someone with so much fucking baggage? Someone who could barely get out of bed in the morning while already wishing for the day to be over? Someone who thought so fucking little of themselves as a human being? There were times where I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror, because those were the days I really hated myself. Sometimes I feel like he fell out of love with me a long time ago and now he won’t leave me because he feels bad, which only made me feel worse for keeping him in a relationship he probably didn’t even want to be in. 

I couldn’t say anything to Peter about this. How could I? He would just try to fix everything and I didn’t need fixing. I just wanted him there to reassure me that he loved me as much as I loved him. That he wouldn’t leave me because of how mentally fucked I was. Even if he did tell me those things, I don’t know if I’d even believe him. My mind probably wouldn’t even let me. I imagined if I did try to tell him everything I was feeling, I probably wouldn’t be able to explain it in a way that he could understand. I was just so tired. Tired of waiting for the inevitable moment when Peter would break up with me, and I’d be left with an expected broken heart. I’ve even been preparing for the day it happens so that it doesn’t kill me when it hurts, just like I do with every situation. Rather than give my hopes up and be disappointed, I just assume the worst from the get-go. 

I don’t know how it hasn’t happened yet. How he hasn’t noticed the way I just shut down when the day gets hard. How I constantly look like I’m just in my own head, either when all of us are hanging out or when it’s just me and him. I want him to know. I want to tell him all the shit that’s running through my mind, but a part of me is terrified that I’ll just scare him away. So I just pretend it’s fine. Like I’m not ready to bust and rip open at the seams.

Today was another one of those days where I just felt like locking myself in my room and never coming out. However, the usual excuse of “I just don’t feel good,” didn’t work on Peter this time. He knew that there was something wrong. I could see it in the way he looked at me. I thought I had gotten away with it at first, laying in my bed and mindlessly scrolling on my phone, not even present in my head, just kind of there. But I knew I was screwed when I heard a knock on my window and opened my curtains just to see Peter sitting on the fire escape. I didn’t say anything as I opened the window, just watching as he stumbled into my room while pulling on the sleeves of my hoodie, something I often did when I felt that familiar anxiousness creeping in.

He made sure to shut the window after he was inside, and I immediately shrunk under his gaze when he turned to me, feeling too ashamed to meet his eyes.

“Hey, um…” 

He hesitated, and I watched the way he rubbed his palms against his jeans, almost as if he was feeling nervous. I could imagine how he was feeling, though. I was nervous too.

“I know this is kinda abrupt, um… but I just wanted to stop by and you know, make sure you’re feeling okay and all that. I was worried, so…”

Worried? He was worried about me? I blinked a few times, trying to rack my brain for a quick lie I could tell him, but that wasn’t what came out when I spoke.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, I just… I guess I’ve just been feeling kinda low today.”

I immediately wanted to swallow the words that left my mouth, not believing that I actually willingly let him know that I wasn’t really feeling okay.

“Oh?” He took a step forward, which immediately made me want to take a step back. “How come? Was today just not a good day?”

Peter was so unbelievably sweet and considerate, I almost wanted to cry right then and there. He always treated me so well… but he deserved someone better. Someone that wasn’t me.

“I-I guess? I don’t know, it’s just kinda hard to explain,” I muttered, reaching a hand up to rub the back of my neck that felt strangely warm.

“Do you wanna talk about it? I have plenty of time. I actually left the group to come see you, so I don’t mind listening.”

My eyes slightly widened as my gaze quickly met his, looking at him as if he was crazy. Hell, he just might’ve been if he stopped hanging out with his friends just to see me.

“You… Why would you do that?” I asked softly, my voice almost a whisper as I tried to keep it from trembling.

His brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly, looking at me almost incredulously as he stepped closer.

“Do I need a reason? I wanted to see you.”

He said it so confidently, as if he was so positive that he rather be spending his time with me than his buddies. It kind of made me feel a bit guilty. He could be spending his time with his friends and having fun, but instead, he was here, and I was trying not to break down in front of him.

“But your friends… wouldn’t you rather hang out with them?” I asked, arms crossing over my chest as if I was protecting myself from something.

Peter just smiled. “I could chill with them any time I want. Why would I skip out on an opportunity to see my baby, hm?”

My hand quickly shot up to cover my mouth, and I could feel tears starting to push through.

“He wouldn’t say that if he knew,” I thought, and it immediately became harder to contain the tears when he closed the short distance between us and placed his hands on my shoulders, his expression clearly one of concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

I shook my head, sniffling as I reached up and wiped at my teary eyes.

“I’m fine, I just-”

You’re not. You’re really not fine, y/n. This is not fine.

My walls were quickly crumbling down as a tear slipped down my cheek, which caused more to follow, and I let out a choked sob as Peter placed a hand on the back of my head and gently pulled me into his chest, his other hand running over my back. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry to my heart’s content as I gripped onto the front of his shirt for dear life.

“I… I’m not okay, Peter. Nothing’s okay,” I mumbled into his chest, and he gently pushed me back as he carefully held my face in his hands, thumbs wiping at my tear stained cheeks.

“What’s not okay, y/n? C’mon, talk to me.”

“Everything!” I yelled, and I could tell he was surprised by my sudden outburst as I pulled myself away from his embrace.

“Everything is not okay, Peter. Fuck, I just…” I brought my arm up over my eyes as my bottom lip quivered, my eyes burning as more tears fell. “Everything’s just so hard and I’m so tired. And I’m making everything so complicated for myself, it’s not even anyone’s fault that I’m feeling like this. It’s mine.” I sniffled and wiped at my eyes again, but it did nothing to stop the endless tears that had spent too much time being held in. “A-And I don’t know what to do, Peter. I really don’t. I’m so fucking tired of hurting and I just want the thoughts and feelings to stop. Fuck sometimes I just wish I felt nothing!”

I looked up at Peter when he didn’t say anything, and found that he was just looking at me. There wasn’t any judgement or disgust in his eyes. At least, not from what I could tell. He looked… worried. Maybe even a little sad. Was he upset over what I said? Is he bummed out that he found out what I’m actually like? I let out a sigh and wiped my nose against my sleeve, suddenly finding my feet very interesting as I looked down. The silence was fucking deafening, and in that moment, I wanted to throw myself off the fire escape and into traffic below.

“How long have you felt like this?” Peter suddenly asked, his voice quiet as if he was trying to not startle me.

I hesitantly looked up at him, pulling at my sleeves again as I shrugged my shoulders.

“If you’re talking about all the depressing shit, ever since my early teens, I guess. But um… I’ve been having other thoughts recently. Ever since we got together, actually.”

I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. Would I regret this? Most definitely. Did Peter need to know? No, but he deserved to.

Peter frowned. “Really? Like… what kind of thoughts?”

I sighed and ran a hand down my face.

“Fuck, Peter, I just… You’re Peter Parker. You’re Spiderman! And I’m just-”

“Amazing, beautiful, the best partner I could ever ask for. Should I go on?” he asked with a small smirk, and I let out an amused huff as I placed a hand against his chest and lightly pushed him.

“I’m serious, Peter. I’m just… I’m fucked up, okay? Nothing about me is normal, hell the thoughts I have certainly aren’t. And I doubt you wanna be with someone who has so much shit going on with them-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Peter interrupted, waving his hands in front of my face. “Who said anything about me not wanting to be with you?”

I scoffed. “I mean, it’s a no brainer, Peter. You saw me just now. I mean, sometimes I break down over the dumbest shit-”

“It’s not dumb if it makes you upset,” he said, his tone a bit harsh.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. No one had ever really validated my feelings like that before.

“I-”

“No, y/n. Why would you think any of this would be a problem for me? I mean… No, nevermind, I understand why you would think that. You can’t help it right? But listen to me.” He placed his hands on my arms, making sure I was focusing on him. “No matter how messed up you think you are… you’ll always be my favorite person, y/n. You don’t have to hide how you feel, you don’t need to be scared. If you’re having a bad day, tell me, and we can have a bad day together. We can lay in bed all day and munch on food that will probably take years off of our life, we can do anything you want. Just tell me, okay? If something ever happened to you… shit, y/n.”

He then pulled me into a bone crushing hug, holding onto me as if I’d disappear if he let me go.

“That’s my worst nightmare. I could handle being kicked out of the avengers or any other terrible stuff. But losing you? Just thinking about it breaks my heart, baby.”

I felt the tears rising once again as I took in what he said, not used to hearing someone say these things to me. Leave it to Peter Parker to make me feel completely vulnerable and open, something I usually hated. I immediately relaxed in his embrace, letting out a soft cry as my arms wrapped around his waist and I buried my face in his neck.

“I love you, Peter,” I muttered softly, my heart skipping when I felt Peter’s lips against my temple, smiling against my skin.

“I love you too, y/n. Please don’t ever forget that.”

Maybe opening up a bit wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Abed Nadir and his need to count the seconds

pairing: abed nadir/troy barnes (it’s Light but I wrote it with the intent for trobed)

summary: Abed Nadir hates being alone in general, so when his friends disappear and leave him alone in a sea of job-seeking students he struggles to keep his head above water. 

request:  okay wait ur abed headcanons got me thinking. abed angst. kings gotta have abandonment issues cuz of his parents YES I'm projecting a little bit. u don't have to do this if it makes u too sad tho - @ghost-butch

warnings: abandonment issues, anxiety attacks, s/h (kinda; in the form of clenching ur fists too hard)

notes: writing abed angst makes me sad ): why did i do this to him he deserves better. also im about to punch evil abed in the face ):< just over 2k words with this one so thats Cool also its midnight and i have school tomorrow arent i epic and cool. 

taglist: @simonsbluee

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            Fifteen minutes and twenty-two seconds. Abed had been lost for fifteen minutes and twenty-two second. Abed’s eyes were trained on the clock hanging on the wall, each tick of the second hand amplified in his head to a piercing shout. Everything was bigger; the lights were blindingly bright and his clothes felt as if they were clawing at his skin. With each passing second Abed became increasingly worried, his breath getting shallower and shallower with each rise of his chest. His eyes returned to the clock on the wall, his stomach jumping at the reading-- sixteen minutes and fourteen seconds.

            The study group had promised Abed they’d accompany him to the job fair. They promised they’d be by his side the entire time; Abed didn’t do well alone in large crowds, especially in new environments. He’d gotten distracted by an engineering booth in the corner with a large lego replica of the millennium falcon hanging in the corner. He looked away from his friends for no more than thirteen seconds, but in those thirteen seconds, they disappeared in the sea of students and booths and interns. Thus, leaving Abed completely alone in a mass of strangers in a building that he’d never seen before. 

            His anxiety had built up with every minute he was lost. It was gradual; he started with the initial panic, followed by frantic searching for familiar faces in the crowd. It wasn’t long after that when his heart rate began to pick up, and within minutes his skin felt as if it was on fire. Abed couldn’t really pinpoint exactly when he’d begun to shuffle backwards out of the large venue the job fair was held in. Before he knew it, he was at the end of a dimly lit hallway, completely alone. He slunk to the floor and pulled his knees to his chest.

            They’ll look for me, he thought. They’re probably looking for me now. Abed reached into his pocket for his cellphone before he realized he’d left it with Troy. The emptiness of his pocket felt endless, his hand tingling where the fabric of his shorts met his skin. The familiar whine that Abed let out when he became overwhelmed filled the empty hallway, the tone only making his anxiety worse. He cursed himself for not thinking ahead-- he’d left all of his fidget toys and putty in his messenger bag which he also left with Troy. 

            It was then that a tiny voice in the back of his head spoke up-- maybe they left, it called. Abed shook his head, but the voice persisted. They left you. They’re gone, and no one is coming for you. A familiar figure materialized in the vast shadows at the other end of the hallway; Evil Abed smirked at him from where he stood.

            “They’re gone,” He repeated. “They were waiting for something to draw you away for them so they could slip away,”

            “That’s not true.” Abed’s fingers absentmindedly dug into his palm. “They wouldn’t do that-- Troy wouldn’t do that. Jeff and Britta, maybe, but not Troy. Not Annie.” Truthfully, Abed didn’t believe that Jeff or Britta would leave, but he wasn’t thinking clearly in the moment.

            “Riddle me this, Abed, who does Troy respect more: you or Jeff? Who does he think is cooler? Who does he idolize more?” Evil Abed’s voice was smug and cruel. It felt as if his words were burrowing through his brain and fogging up his thoughts. “Sure, Troy might tolerate you, but he worships Jeff. If Jeff wanted to leave, then surely Britta and Annie would tag along. It’s inevitable that Troy would join them, isn’t it?” Abed shut his eyes tightly, but that didn’t do much to ward off his evil counterpart.

            A film played behind Abed’s eyelids, the poetic irony of his worst fears being portrayed through his favorite thing making his heart ache. There they were: Jeff, Britta, Troy, Annie, all standing in a tight group as Abed wandered off. Their expressions and movements were exaggerated, but Abed didn’t care. He just sat and watched as the scene unfolded.

            “God, I can’t believe he roped us into this,” Jeff groaned, his hands gripping his cellphone as if someone were going to take it from him. “What kind of loser can’t go to a damn fair by himself? I could have a hot redhead hanging on my arm at a sports bar and instead I’m babysitting a twenty-five-year-old.”

            “C’mon Jeff, we’re here for Abed. God knows if he came here alone he’d probably drive everyone here crazy with his “Inspector Spacetime” BS.” Britta chimed in, a tired tone in her voice. Annie looked antsy as always, while Troy looked unsure. Abed wasn’t sure of what, exactly. 

            Slowly, Abed  wandered a few feet away from the group. Jeff’s face lit up the same way it does when he sees an attractive student in the hallways. A borderline cartoon-ish grin grew on his face as he pulled the group tighter.

            “Hey, Abed’s gone. Let’s take this window and get the hell out of here while the cat is distracted by the lazer,” He chuckled. Britta smiled and nodded, quickly grabbing Annie’s hand in an attempt to pull her out. The three of them made their way to the exit, leaving Troy alone. He turned around to glance at Abed before rolling his eyes and running after Jeff. Abed was alone.

            The image faded away, and to Abed’s surprise, Evil Abed faded away with it. For a split second, Abed was disappointed. He really, really, really didn’t want to be alone-- even if his only companion was an evil version of himself. A minute passes before Abed realizes he was crying, that revelation followed by the realization that his fingernails dug into his palm so hard he broke the skin. His tears blurred his vision and made his surrounding seem much smaller, much darker, much lonelier. His eyes no longer portrayed a dim hallway. Instead, Abed saw the same tiny locker he was locked in so often as a teenager.  He could smell the rusted metal of the locker hinges. He could feel the chipped paint rubbing against his skin. He couldn’t breathe. Abed couldn’t breathe-- the entire world was closing in on him. He was cold and alone and no one was coming for him. His friends left him and they weren’t coming back. Everyone who he cares about leaves him, why would they be any different? He watched the world pass by through the tiny slits in the door before his eyes screwed shut again as he choked on air.

            He was in agony. His entire body shook and his heart pounded so hard he felt as if it were going to burst. Abed wanted to go home, he wanted to be back at Greendale with Troy and the rest of his friends but he was trapped. His arms began to cramp up from how hard he had tensed, his knuckles a pale white from how tightly he was clenching his fists. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak or sob or scream; he was stuck. Locked away. The outside world faded away as Abed retreated into his mind. He tried to hide away in his head forever until a janitor stumbled upon his frozen shell of a body tomorrow morning. There was an echoing sound, however, that kept drawing him from the abyss of his brain.

            Footsteps. He could hear footsteps. Abed couldn’t tell whether or not they were real, but he could guess who’s footsteps they were. They were frantic and uneven-- they had the potential to be rhythmic, but the walker was urgent. Worried. The biggest identifying factor, though, was the quiet sound of plastic aglets on the tile floor; their shoes were untied. Abed smiled weakly as he recalled the fact that Troy almost never had his shoes tied. A glimmer of hope shone through the small slits in the locker door as the footsteps grew closer.

            “Abed?” Troy’s voice cut through the silence in the hallway. He turned the corner and froze as his eyes landed on his friend. “Abed? God, there you are! You scared me half to death, and Jeff was already boring me to death with his lame lawyer stories, so now I’m only, like, a fourth away from death!”

            Abed didn’t reply. He couldn’t-- he still didn’t know if Troy was real or just another image. He was still locked away, after all. Troy could tell something was wrong; Abed’s eyes had glazed over and he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Troy hurried over, his eyes frantically assessing the situation at hand. He saw the blood on Abed’s palms and his stomach lurched. 

            “Hey, Abed, are you alright?” Troy asked softly. “Did something happen?” Abed did not reply, instead releasing a small, high-pitched whine. Everything was foggy-- it was all too foggy for Abed to know whether or not he was simply envisioning this angel of a human.

            “Alright, uh, I’m going to touch your wrist. Is that alright?” Abed hesitated before nodding ever-so-slightly.

            Gently, Troy wrapped his hand around Abed’s wrist. The contact was startling, but not unwelcome. Abed was becoming more and more sure that this Troy was real. The tight locker melted away to reveal the same dark hallway; his anxiety was eased a bit,but he still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that settled over him. He glanced at the clock once again-- he was alone for thirty-two minutes and forty-seven seconds in total. 

            “I’m sorry I lost you,” Troy spoke quietly. His voice was comforting and genuine, his face soft and kind. He didn’t match the Troy that Evil Abed created at all. “I know this place is overwhelming, I’m so sorry. We should’ve been more attentive and more careful, this place is like a maze.” Abed soon realized he was too tired to respond verbally, instead opting to hold Troy’s hand. A silent reassurance was exchanged through their intertwined fingers. Abed’s palms stung a bit, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He was just so tired. His muscles were sore and his chest ached and his head pounded. He wanted to go home. 

            “Britta was practically running across the building looking for you, ya know,” Troy said. His hand was still holding Abed’s. “Annie started crying after 10 minutes, and for a second Jeff looked like he was going to cry, too. They were all so worried. I was worried, too. The thought of something bad happening to you was too much to handle.”

            “I know you hate being alone, too. I guess you probably thought we ditched you or something. Jeff thought you ditched us, but I knew that wasn’t true. It doesn’t really matter, though, because I’m here now,” That final phrase echoed in Abed’s mind as he sat beside his friend. “I want you to know that I really care about you. I want-- I need you to know that I would never ever ditch you like that. Not in a million billion years, not even for a million dollars,”

            They sat there for a few more minutes before Annie turned the corner and shouted, sprinting full speed towards the two men at the end of the hallway. Britta and Jeff followed closely after, a wave of relief washing over their faces. They all gushed about their worries and concerns. Annie was quick to tend to the small indents in Abed’s palm, and Jeff and Britta talked about how freaked they were when they realized Abed disappeared. Jeff mentioned stopping by every directing booth in the entire building to see if Abed had landed there-- he even grabbed a few pamphlets for him to flick through later. Finally, Abed gained the energy to stand up, and he walked down the hallway with his friends beside him and Troy’s fingers still laced with him.

            On his way out, Abed glanced at the clock on the wall-- twenty-two minutes and twelve seconds. Abed had been surrounded by his wonderfully chaotic family for the past twenty-two minutes, and he’d never felt more secure.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #423

“i won’t think about you when i’m older  /  ‘cuz we never really had our closure”

Are you better at cooking dinners or making cakes/biscuits/sweets? Neither. Have you ever cut someone else’s hair? No. Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for? My late grandmother's husband stayed overnight when he was driving from New York to Florida or the other way around, idr. How many long term relationships have you been in? Two. Do you sleep with all the lights out, or do you leave a lamp or even the television on? My snake's heat lamp stays on. Who is one person you have forgiven, but still have not “forgotten” what they have done? My dad. Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey? I don't think I've even heard one of her songs. Do you know your blood type? A-. Do you know your mother’s birthday? Yes. Have you got your period at the moment? I haven't had my period since I started TMS. It's honestly so fucking frustrating that it obviously had an effect on my body, but not my depression. I've officially finished TMS as of a few days ago and now I just feel so void of hope. Have you ever been pregnant? No. How old were you when you first went on a plane? Idr, I was a little kid. Have you ever had to take out a loan for anything? Not me personally, but my parents have for my education that I threw away. Are both of your blood parents still in your life? Yes. I don't see my dad a lot, but he's still in my life regardless. When was the last time you went apple picking? I’ve never been. Someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say? Happiness. Have you ever been drunk at school or work? I have not. How many bedrooms are in your house? Three. Are you smart about computers? Not really, no. Have you ever played Just Dance for Wii? Yes. My sister loved them, so we have a few. Do you own a Xbox 360? No. I'm a PlayStation girl. Would you ever do a sex tape for a million dollars? No. I'd be mortified. So, do you need a nap? I really should take one. I slept like... maybe three hours last night. I was up most of the night having a fucking life crisis. What would you rather be doing? Something fun. What sport are you the best at? I haven't touched any sort of sport since I was a teenager. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yeah, Nicole. Do you complain a lot? Kind of, but I generally try to keep it in surveys nowadays. I'm just tired of shit. Would you rather go to an authentic haunted house or an ancient temple? Ohhh, tough pick, but I've gotta say the ancient temple. Do you like fruity or minty gum? Both, really. Are you looking forward to any day of this month? Well July is practically over, so I'll answer for August. I'm looking forward to my nephew's birthday. Have you ever gotten detention? A few times for getting too many morning tardies in high school. Is there a traumatic event that you’ve experienced that’s changed your life? Definitely. Do you buy a majority of your clothes from a certain store, or do you just pick out items of clothing you could see yourself wearing, not caring about the store it came from? The latter. Have any of the artists you’re fond of released new albums recently? Powerwolf did recently. Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet? I could write a college-length essay on why meerkats do not make good pets whatsoever. Do fucking not get one. I can barely fathom how it's legal in some countries. Ever cried so much you threw up? No, but I've gagged. Who is your best guy friend? Girt. What do you two do when you hang out? Mostly just watch TV and play board games. What is a movie that you thought you would hate but you ended up loving? I dunno, really. Do you even like horror movies? I love horror movies. Do you live in the country? I wish I still did. :/ Me and Mom hate hate hate living in these suburbs. What is your favorite accent? British. Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like? No. Do you drink Pepsi or Coke? Coke. Pepsi is gross. What do you plan to do on your 21st birthday? I was literally in the psych hospital for my 21st birthday lmao. It's kind of a painful memory, but I also won't forget the love and kindness people showed me. I especially remember the friend I made there getting the lunch lady to literally go and buy me a slice of cake. Everyone also sang happy birthday to me and gaaaah I'm getting emotional. Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer? That was my dad's drink of choice when he drank. Do you take a lot of pictures? Unless I have my camera and am somewhere pretty, no. What kind of face wash do you use? Water, lol. Does drama always seem to follow you? Nah. Does anybody in your family race? No. Are you closer to your mom or dad? My mom. How much money did you used to get from the ”tooth fairy?” Uhhh... I want to say $2 or something? I might be way off, idr. How long do you want to live with your parents? I WISH I could have moved out with an s/o already, but that's just not how life's worked out. Do you have a laptop or desktop? I have a laptop. Do you like your parents? I love them. Do you secretly like someone? It's not a secret, no. Would you ever date your best male friend? Tried that once and it didn't work out. I liked him more as like a brother. What are you currently listening to? "Better Than Me" by Hinder. I really need to turn it off, but I can't make myself. Do you want to be single? I really wish I had a partner to love and motivate me to strive to do better, but I know it's better I'm single right now. I'd just relive the Jason situation, I'm sure. I'd just drag the person down and lose them. Did you go out or stay in last night? I'm almost always at my fucking house not doing shit, so. Have you pretended to like someone? No, that sounds pretty stupid... How is your heart lately? Hurting. A lot. Are you wearing socks? I hate wearing socks and I'm in bed anyway, so no. What do people call you? Britt, mostly. Do you get stressed out easily? VERY. Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? No. What is wrong with you right now? Where the hell to begin. Do you own something from Hot Topic? A lot. Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone? With someone, so long as the bed is big enough to comfortably fit two of us. Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? No. I'm certain he wants nothing to do with me. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Sadly. Did you get any compliments today? Definitely not. I look and feel like a wreck right about now. There's nothing to praise me about. Have you ever gone to a beach? Many times. What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now? Unless it was an edible, no. I'd do almost anything to try and make me feel better right now, even if just for a little while, but I'm unwilling to smoke anything. Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? HELL no. Have you ever done volunteer work just because you wanted to? Honestly, no. Do you have long nails? No; I never do because I have an awful habit of picking at them. Do you like the gender you are? I don't like or dislike it, honestly. I'm just neutral. Do you generally look nice in photos? HA. Have you ever had a stick insect as a pet? No. What colour are your father’s eyes? They're dark brown. If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer? Ozzy, duh. Name three facts about your family? We're very, very spread out geographically, some of us (in other words, me) are emotionally distant, and uh... idk. Would you ever get into a long distance relationship? Only if it was a certain person, our lives were more on track, and we were making plans for either of us to move soon. What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received? Probably this really long letter my mom wrote for me on my bday a couple years ago. What’s your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. Did you ever play an instrument? If so what? I played the flute for many years, all through middle school and through much of high school. Would you rather carve pumpkins or wrap presents? Carve pumpkins, for sure. Do you think you’re important? I don't fucking know. Probably not. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? Idk. Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders? *hands over thick book* Have you ever moved to another state or country? If so, how did it feel to be new? No. Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? No. My hands are way, way too shaky to ever accomplish that. Are you more of a leader or a follower? Definitely a follower, but I can step up in certain situations. What was the first thing you ate today? Well, I was seriously depression-eating last night, way past midnight, and had a peanut butter sandwich. If you could spend the day, doing absolutely anything, with anyone, anywhere, what would it be like? LET'S NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT RIGHT NOW. If I were to ask you how you are doing, and you were only able to answer completely honestly, what would come out? "Falling apart." I've lost direction, motivation, strength, hope, just everything. What is the one thing that you have been avoiding that you should do? I need a fucking shower so bad that it's embarrassing. I just can't move. I have no energy, emotionally or physically. I just can't make myself do it. Is there anything that you wish you could take back? So, so badly. What, in your mind, could make you truly happy? Actually reaching goals. Losing weight. Healing my legs. Knowing with certainty that I wasn't emotionally abusive to Jason. Moving out of this town and back into the country. Financial stability. A job I thoroughly enjoy. I could go on, but let's not. If you could change one conversation in your life, what would you say differently? Would it have REALLY made any difference? God, let me take back shit I said in that fucking letter to you-know-who. It's so hard to believe I once thought it perfectly justified and realistic. When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it? I don't have any plans of changing the style in the foreseeable future. I want to color it BADLY. To just SOMETHING. Do people normally say you’re a fast typist, or are you rather slow? I'm like, a lightning-fast typist. Have you ever been considered the ‘smartest person in school?’ No; my best friend in HS was, though. Her GPA was fucking insane. I was in the top percentile, though, so I was up there. What the hell happened to that girl. How many drugs are in your system? If we're including prescriptions, a whole hell of a lot. What’s on your schedule for tomorrow? Jack shit. Like usual. Do you currently have any bite marks/hickeys on your body? No. Do you call anyone baby? Excluding my pets, no. What’s your current mood? lol if you've gotten this far reading, you can make an educated guess. Do you think you are a good person? Bro I just don't know. What were you doing before filling out this survey? I was playing WoW. How late did you stay up last night? Like, 4:30 or so. When was the last time you cried really hard? I wanna say like a week ago? Is your hair longer than your shoulders? No. It still badly needs a trim, though.

[hockeytrashgoblin]

Ice Cold ~Part 8

A/N: Hello I’ve been writing a lot but I realized the part I wrote and spent all day on totally fucks with my timeline so I’m saving that for later and redoing part 11 and 12 completely. I hate my whole brain and I might jump in front of a bus. But not really cuz there are no buses here. anyway enjoy lovelies!!

I woke up alone in William's bed slightly hungover. I groaned quietly and Mitch came in with water and what I assume was tylenol judging by the shaking sound of the bottle. He sat on the bed and handed them to me. I took the tylenol and propped myself up on the headboard.

"Will and Kappy went out to find some food."

"For them or me?"

"Them. I got you some fruit. I hope that's okay, I didn't know what would make you sick."

"That's perfect Mitchy thank you." He ran out and came back with it before I really even registered he was gone. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome." He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"What?"

"What's wrong? I can tell you're upset. Why?"

"You know you're the only person who noticed?"

"Aw Mitchy I'm so sorry. Come here." I opened my arms and hugged him as tight as I could.

"You're not very strong."

"Oh shut up!" I exclaimed laughing with him. "Now tell me what's up."

"It's kinda weird."

"I will never judge you Mitch, I promise. Just tell me."

"I know who my soulmate is and it's not Steph."

"Uh yeah called that one."

"What? How did you know?!"

"It was just small things. Like saying you've never experienced love like me and Will was a big one. Then yesterday every time she touched you you rolled your eyes. Didn't seem very in love to me."

"God I'm not. I'm really not into her as much as I wish I was. I love her, don't get me wrong but I have an unbearable attachment to this other person."

"Why don't you pursue that then?"

"I don't think they like me at all. Plus I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?"

"Leaving Steph after so long. She thinks we're going to get married and have kids. It would destroy her."

"But if you stay then you're destroying yourself."

"That's not all though."

"Okay?"

"It's a guy."

"Oh! Oh wow.." I said slowly in shock.

"I know I don't know what to do about it. I've never had any attraction to dudes before so I'm having like a sexuality crisis on top of it all and no one know except Morgan and now you but I don't want to talk about it with him because he's already got it all figured out and even though I've seen it I can't see how it'll work and I was kissed by him last night when I was looking for you guys and-"

"Woah wait! You were kissed?"

"Yes and it was really good which was really bad because I wanted more but I was looking for my girlfriend and then when I kissed her when you were there I just felt nothing and with him I felt everything."

"Mitchy you really need to think about this. It's a big deal but it doesn't have to be a crisis. It could be that it's literally just that one person you have this attraction to without ever finding another man attractive."

"I'm terrified to bottom." He whispered in a horrified tone causing me to burst into laughter. "It's not funny! I'm gonna be split open like a banana! Stop laughing!"

"Mitchy I'm sorry but who says you're even going to bottom?"

"I'd be a bottom and you know it."

"Eeh you're not wrong. But still he's going to make it good for you probably. If you sack up and make a move that is."

"Why doesn't he sack up?" Mitch shouted.

"Love, he already did when he kissed you."

"Well that's true I guess. I just wish he hadn't run away."

"Maybe he was scared? Mitch you should talk to him at the very least."

"I'll think about it. But for now can we drop it? The guys are in earshot and I don't want to talk about it with them." He whispered.

"How do you know?"

"If I can hear their thoughts they can hear my voice. They were still far enough away if I whispered they couldn't pick it up. They're probably a couple blocks away."

"That's so interesting. So can you just hear everyone's thoughts within a couple blocks?"

"If I focus in on the noise then yes. It's different in the city. If there's less sound and people I can hear them really far away. Like up to a mile probably in the country."

"That's so neat! How come you've got this talent?"

"I really don't know. I was always really perceptive as a person to everyone around me? That's the only thing any of us can really think of."

"Hm that's really interesting. Does William really not have anything cool?"

"William doesn't think his gift really counts and he never uses it. He's a tracker."

"Like James in twilight?"

"No that's way off." He snorted. "No he is much more deadly than that guy. He can find anyone he's ever smelled like it's nothing."

"Hello?" William called into the apartment.

"Hi!" I said as he walked into the room towards me while Kappy waited in the doorway. I gave William a kiss.

"Sorry, I might taste a little um.."

"Bloody?" I asked bluntly, making Kasperi laugh.

"Yeah.."

"You don't. You taste like you always do." I gave him another kiss.

"Either way I'm going to brush my teeth then we'll talk. Mitch stop telling her things."

"Babe I'm just curious! Don't be mad at Mitchy."

"We're going to swing by Morgan's for a bit to get the story straight and check in on the Auston situation." Kasperi told Mitch.

"Is Auston really trapped right now? Like for real can't get out?"

"(Y/n) we promise he is. You're completely saf-"

"No, no, no. Don't you even fucking think about it!" Mitch interrupted loudly pointing in my face.

"What's wrong?" William asked coming in.

"Your girlfriend wants to go talk to Auston at Morgans!"

"Mitch you didn't need to say that!"

"So it's true? You want to go see Auston? Why?"

"I figured it would be good to talk to him when he can't go anywhere or hurt me that's all."

"No. No absolutely not. I won't allow it." I crossed my arms but didn't say anything. He sighed and turned to Mitch. "What's she thinking."

"Well it's a lot of mocking your tone and not the fucking boss of me has been thrown around a couple times."

"I hate it here." I said flopping back down on the bed.

"Guys why don't you head out. I'd like to talk to (y/n) in private."

"Alright. We'll see you at the game, (y/n)."

"Yup, bye."

"Don't be upset with Mitch. He was upset that you would even want to do that after what happened. So am I." William said sitting down beside me.

"I just want to fix things William. I don't want him to hate me. It's hard on everyone and I just wanna fix it."

"It's not up to you to fix darling. Please don't beat yourself up. I want to keep you safe and I failed that completely last night."

"Wasn't your fault. Mitchy explained already."

"I'm going to apologize."

"I'll forgive you then."

"Can we talk about what you told me last night please?"

"What about it?"

"Are you okay?"

"Somewhat. He still scares me and shows up places I don't expect him. It was probably him making noise outside my place that one night."

"He knows where you live?"

"Not on purpose. He must still have people watching me."

"Other people are in on it?" He asked, clearly confused.

"Yes. He was in a big gang. They don't want me to tell anyone important about what happened."

"Baby I don't like that."

"And you think I do?"

"No of course not! I just hate the knowledge that he's around and creeping on you. Is this why you always call me to walk home?"

"Yeah. I want someone to know who did it if something happens to me."

"No, we're going to figure out a solution to this. I don't want him to be out there."

"Willy it's okay. I promise."

"You're a liar."

"Maybe only a little."

"We'll talk about this more later. Are you okay to go home soon? I have to stop by Morgan's and then be at the arena for 3."

"What time is it now?"

"Almost 2."

"Wow I slept late."

"You drank a lot. Plus I didn't want to wake you up when you looked so cute sleeping." He cupped my face, looked deep into my eyes with a smile and brought me in for a kiss. "I'm so in love with you."

"I love you." I said, pulling him back in by his shirt. 

Our lips met in a more heated kiss and I immediately felt breathless. I completely understood what Mitch meant when he talked about kissing his soulmate. I had never felt like I did from just a kiss like this. It was the kind of kiss you felt all over your whole body. Like when you kiss someone drunk but on steroids. It was incredible.

I pulled on his shirt and to my surprise he took it off. I sat up and followed him with my hands. I was touching every inch of skin that was available to me as I latched onto his collarbone, sucking a bruise on it. He groaned and I found myself wanting to make him sound like that all the time.

I kissed him again as I laid back down and pulled him down with me so he was resting between my legs. That was when I felt how hard he was against me. I whined and bucked into him, making a soft moan pass between our lips. 

"Baby we need to stop." He whispered in my ear.

"Nooooo."

"(Y/n) I'm not doing this today. After everything that's happened and that I've learned..I want to do this right. I want to make it special for us."

"Okay..okay. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I just want it to be after a less traumatic night." he kissed me softly then got up to put his shirt on. "Let's go love, I have to get you home so I can get to Morgan's."

"Okay." 

The ride to my place was fairly quick and very uneventful. I couldn't stop thinking about Auston though. By the time we were in my driveway I had made a decision though. These boys were in fact not the boss of me. I was going to talk to Auston.

[futurewriter2000]

That Something

A/N: I wrote that instead of studying math but I am really proud of this. I love my Draco fics. Hope you like this. All the love <3

REQUEST BY @ylieniasims: Hi I love your writing and really hope you still take request?? Could you please write a Draco x shy chubby hufflepuff reader where he is amazed by her kindness towards him and doesn't care about what others told her about Draco cuz she likes to get to know him by herself 💚💛 That would be cute 😍 Sry for my english 😅

XX

Sometimes all it took was a moment of kindness to see there can be good in the world. To see the world be gracious, that it can be gentle and loving as for Draco Malfoy the world he was used to was harsh and cruel yet never when you were on sight. 

He could never figure out why his heart rate sped for that one milisecond when his eyes caught the sight of you and then slowed down when they kept lingering. He’d be furious, on edge, anxious, stressed... you name it but when his eyes met yours, it was like the whole world he knew went blind.

He would remember the first time he felt this calmness inside of him; he was walking furiously down the corridor, mumbling, cursing Crab and Goyle for something he doesn’t remember anymore and all of a sudden he’d crash into someone. Papers flew in the air, books fell on the the floor and soft hair tickled his skin. 

Before he could shout, yell, blame there was you first. “I am so sorry.” there was something in your tone that made him keep his words inside. “I didn’t mean to run into you. Are you okay?” there was now something in your eyes he wasn’t used to before. Something- but what? 

He shook off his thoughts and decided to answer. “I’m fine.” he stood in front of you as you bent down to pick up what fell. And he would never do what he did. Never help someone who was from a different house. He would never neglect the person he was. The superior him, the great him, the facade -him. But for you, he oddly made an exception and bent down to help you. “Here. Let me help you.” and he picked the papers that were sprawled all around him. 

Your eyes looked up at him. He felt you stop moving, looked up and felt his heart squeeze when he saw your doe eyes. Something- he wondered but it just couldn’t get to him. You smiled kindly and he felt his heart let go and clench again, stronger than before. He smiled back and it was your turn to feel the clenching in your chest.

And then came something from his mouth not you, nor him would expect. “Are you okay?” 

You stood up with books in your hands, he stood up with your papers in his hands and both of you smiled again. “Yeah. Great.” it sounded as if you were out of breath, for which you were because up-close Draco Malfoy did not look nothing to the arsehole everybody makes him to be. He looked lovely in his green robes, which exposed the gorgeous grey colour of his eyes, and even lovelier when his smile reached his cheeks. 

“(y/n)(y/l/n), right?” he asked, this time leaning on the wall and smiling all by himself.

“That’s right. I didn’t think you knew.” you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and felt a blush creep on your cheeks.

“I know everybody plus, you are in my Transfiguration class this year. Last year I believe it was Herbology?” he more guessed than stated and by your gigglish smile he knew he was correct. “And the year before that I think Slytherins had Divination or Charms with Hufflepuffs?” he continued as he enjoyed your smile grow at each guess.

“Charms.” you answered. “You have a great memory.” 

“I ought to. I am a Slythering after all.” he boasted but then hung his shoulder and scoffed. “And a Malfoy.” he said with a more disappointed tone.

And you couldn’t figure out what he meant by that. You didn’t understand why he was so disappointed and ashamed of being a descendant of the most respected wizarding family in the wizarding world but then again, every one of us has their own share of secrets. 

“Well, I hope you remember to be careful walking down these halls. You never know who you might run into.” you smiled, put your hand on his shoulder and gently brushed it off as you passed him by.

And with that, he heard himself mumble the most unbelievable words: “If I run into you again, I’d walk even more recklessly.” 

Same smile reappeared on his lips as he thought of this. It reapperead each time night before he went to sleep and each time he saw you. He’d see you walk down the halls, the yellow of the robes pointing out that perfect smile, and he’d feel himself the urge to walk to you, take your hand and hold you close. He would try to deny his feelings for you. He would wish them away and a nice road back to where they came from but he could never want to get rid of himself when he was with you. 

He’d wait for your friends to leave you because he could just feel the ugly stares they sent his way and the horrible words they say to you about him. He could even hear it one time when he was walking to the courtyard, making his way from the dungeons and he’d see you, stop and wait. He waited for he was not sure that was you he was seeing. You changed through the summer. Your hair was longer, your curves more vivid, a new yellow saphire silver ring. He stood there and thought for a while about who might have given you that ring? Was there someone you were involved with? Could there have been?- 

“I reckon he gets everything he ever wants from his father. He’s spoiled, (y/n) and he’s a bully.” one girl’s voice came to his ears. 

“He’s no bully to me.” you said calmly and he felt himself smile at the sound of your voice. It changed as well. “He’s not what people make him to be.”

“Yes, he is. Spoiled, ignorant little daddies boy.” she continued and you only rolled your eyes at her.

“I’ll be the judge of who he is from my own experiances with him.” and you were off, leaving both the girls and him behind. 

He remembered how he felt when he heard you say those words. Relieved. 

“Hey there, stranger.” you smiled as you stood behind the desk in front of him. He looked up, shook the thoughts from his head and smiled. “Mind if I sit?” you asked and he immediately, sat up straight and removed the pencil from his ear.

“Yeah, please.” 

‘ Please? Really? What’s wrong with you?’ - he cringed inside and flushed deeper into the chair. 

And though the awkward reply, you always found a way to distract him. “So what is infamous Draco Malfoy doing in a library all by himself?” you leaned closer and he smirked.

“Can’t I study in a library?”

“No, no, of course you can, it’s just I have never seen you here in all my seven years.” 

“I have my reasons.” he smirked, leaned forward and watched you with blazing eyes. 

Surprised by his intetnions, you felt yourself grew hot and confused. Your heart was quick in his pace and your palms became clammy. 

He saw the lovely rose colour on your cheeks and decided to finally say what he’s been holding back for so many years. This was it. This time, this place; The library was only lit by candles, the light illuminating in your eyes as the clock behind the bookshelves tolled like a church bell. He knew he’d remember all of this details because firstly, his memory was too great and this was too important to him to leave out the details. Of course, he’s been marked as a coward and a weak man by many but he could only have to go through the fear to get what he wants.

He reached for your hand, took it in his own and brushed his thumb against the yellow saphire gem. “This is new.” he looked up and you only grew redder, nodding your head and smiling. 

“Uhm-” you tried to clear your dry throat and speak more clearly. “My mother gave it to me for my 18th birthday.” 

He loved seeing you so flustered. He loved even more the fact it wasn’t given to you by another man.  “Good.” he flet himself say.

You tilted your head on the side, furrowing your eyebrows. “Why is that good?”

His eyes kept switching from your intertwined fingers to your eyes. “Because if it was given to you by anyone else, I wouldn’t know how I’d live with myself knowing that someone else wasn’t me.” 

Those last seventeen words melted you just as much as they confused you. “I don’t- I don’t understand.” 

“I fancy you, (y/n). I like being with you- I love being near you, talking to you and I would love to take you on a date if you’d agree.” 

It was odd hearing him say that. You weren’t used to this side of Draco. The kind one, the soft-toned one. It was as if he was a completely different person but to be honest, all that time you spent with him, getting to know him, were you really surprised? He was nice and kind to you since the day he ran into you and for all the girls, perfect girls, why you? Could he be playing with you? - No. You knew that when you looked at his eyes and there was something in them. Something but what? - Whatever it was it convinced you enough to trust him. You have liked Draco for a while now, so why not?

For Draco knew that if you said no, he’d lose that perfect, gracious, kind world you always brought him in and if you said yes, he’d finally be a part of that world. With you- he’d feel safe and with you everything would be right.

“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

[neoarchipelago]

Her Teacher (Teacher!John wick x reader) SMUT

AN: I don't know what's this honestly… I don't know… I just needed this so there you go... I advise you to listen to the Spotify playlist while reading..

Playlist

Word count: 3 909

Warnings: SMUT +18 SEXUAL CONTENT

-------

You were lost in thoughts, staring into the void as your mind ran wild. You were supposed to be doing a philosophical essay for your philosophy complementary class, on the subject of 'what is temptation?', but perhaps you had recently been too close to real temptation to focus on writing it. You were in university, for the third year, in history. You were specialized into the two worlds wars and you had decided to take on a special class on the revolution of Russia and the consequences it had. You have been damned since the moment you walked into class. That your eyes had met his eyes. He was handsome, his dark brown eyes, compelling. His hair falling over his eyes when he wrote something. The way his black shirt seemed to perfectly design his muscles underneath. 

Yes. He was attractive. But you had seen attractive teachers and felt nothing at and mostly, always managed to find time to focus on your work. But things had started to get confusing when you had gone to see him in his office, asking about a particular point of the lesson you wanted to be sure of. You had talked to him, getting into the subject and losing sense of time. You had realized with horror that you spent a good hour talking to him and it was dark outside already. You had apologized, but he shrugged it off, saying it was worth the interesting conversation. He had smiled at you and you had melted on the spot. But that wasn't entirely the reason that you had been so absent minded recently. No. 

You had seen him a few days after in the hallways. He had asked you to pass by his office a few hours after to pick up something. You had obeyed and knocked on his door after all your classes. You had been happily surprised to find out he wanted to lend you some books on the subject. You had noticed the wonderful leather binding of the books and asked about it. The surprise was even bigger when he told you he binded books. You had left after a long conversation about it, the books kept tightly against your chest. 

The days had passed and you had found yourself completely falling for the books that you had read non stop. You remember wanting to retrieve them to their rightful owner, but Mr Wick was missing for the next few days. You had worried first, but then felt silly. When he came back however you had worried even more. He had a few bruises and scratches, and looked tired. You had walked in his office, and closed the door behind you. 

"Mr Wick… I wanted to give you those back…" you had spoke, slightly taken aback from his injuries. 

"Oh yes. Have you finished those?" He had spoke, naturally. 

You nodded, humming in response. 

He walked over to you, taking the books from your hands, his fingers brushing yours softly. Your eyes roamed his face and he looked at you. 

"Sir… are you ok?" You had asked, no longer being able to hide your worry. 

He had smiled and let out a soft chuckle. 

"You shouldn't worry about me miss (y/l/n). I'm fine, this was just… a small adventure in the woods that didn't go as planned." 

You had offered him a small smile, not entirely believing him but being unable to push the conversation to deeper lands. You couldn't deny he looked extremely sexy though, almost dangerous. A thought crossed your mind, wanting to make sure he was fine and find an excuse to see him again. 

"I'm sorry, sir… I needed to ask you a favor…" 

He had looked up at you and this time your heart skipped a bit, his dark eyes scanning you. 

"I have… an old book that I would like you to fix… is there any way for you to-" 

"Of course. Pass by my office to drop it. I'll see what I can do." 

You had smiled again, and excused yourself before walking out. 

The next day you passed by his office dropping the book. He had assured you he could easily fix it but it would need a new cover. You had let him do whatever he wanted with it, too lost in the glimpse of creativity in his eyes. You had almost stared in awe and froze when his eyes stared into yours. The air seemed to shift and you shivered, his eyes seemed darker than before. You noticed the closeness between you two but none moved. Your skin was screaming for his rough hands to touch it and you wanted to kiss him. You had mentally slapped yourself and ran out of the room, apologizing and blurring out some excuse. 

You had walked home lost in thoughts. You two had a lot in common and you adored those hours spent talking about everything and anything. The way he spoke with his husky voice and the way he smiled. You couldn't believe you had let yourself get so interested in him. But scolding yourself didn't help at all, it got worse. 

The days after that, you had tried not to see him as much, avoiding him, but everytime your eyes met in the hallway his eyes looked at you differently. The same dark gaze he had sent you before you escaped his office. You tried to simply smile at him but you felt your own self craving more and more his presence. You still fought as much as you could, even trying to speak to some boys from your class but you had noticed how he had looked angry in class when he saw you sit next to another guy or even talk to some boy in the hallway. Yes you could see the fire in his eyes every time he saw you with someone else, and you wondered if you were going insane yourself, wanting him so badly. 

---

You were shook to reality again by your friend. Oh yes. The philosophy essay. 

"Hmm yes, what is it?" You asked looking at her.

"Are you alright? You've been lost in your little world for a while now. " She said with a chuckle. 

"You're right… sorry Leia. My mind's been busy… with some… things. But it'll pass." You simply said. 

"Well I hope you do, cuz you spent the entire hour dreaming and now we got class."

You gasped in horror, you had wasted and entire hour lost in thoughts! 

"Come on! Get up! We'll be late for mr Wick's class!" 

You froze and took a second before reacting. You had his class right after this. You took a deep breath and took your books and stuff, walking out of the library with Leia. You were still confused on everything but tried to shake it away. You walked into the amphitheatre taking your seat next to her. You felt someone sit on the other side and smiled at the boy. Mr Wick walked in and silence fell. He looked around and his eyes fell on you and the boy next to you and you were sure you saw that dark gaze for a second before it vanished. Class began and you struggled to keep focused on what he was saying. You bit down on your pencil as his eyes scanned you for a second, he didn't interrupted his class yet you could feel his eyes on you almost the entire class. No one else seemed to noticed, it's like he had a skill of being extremely discreet, so only you could feel the sweet torture.

It was messing with your nerves. You felt hot just by him scanning you with his beautiful brown eyes and you knew he was doing it on purpose. The class ended and as you could still feel his attention on you, you purposely smiled at the boy next to you and walked out with him. You let out a shaky breath as soon as you were out of the door, and heard Leia run to you. 

"Hey sweetie! Mr Wick asked me to tell you to pass by his office after your classes." 

You stared at her and nodded.

"Thanks Leia." 

What was it for? You felt anxious now. You couldn't bare spend a class with him, where you were surrounded by so many students and you didn't feel controlled enough to be alone with him in a small room. You had no choice, he was your teacher. You sighed and went about your day, your mind always running over the future meeting. 

------

You had finished your classes pretty late and it was already dark outside. The air was cold and you regretted wearing that flowing red skirt. It was too cold even with your thigh high socks. You shivered and knocked on the door of the teacher's office. The grumpy 'come in' made you frown but you obeyed in anyway. You closed the door behind you and watched him. He was busy correcting a paper, his hair softly falling on his face. He was frowning and you notices how he was wearing a simple white T-shirt. You bit your lip as you stood there. You were however growing impatient. Who did he think he was? Did he think he could do as he pleased? 

"Excuse me? What did you ask for me?" You spoke out loud. 

The dark look he sent you as he looked up made you freeze and your breath hitched. You watched as he put down his dark red pen, and leaned back on his chair, still eyeing you darkly.

"To give you this back." He spoke leaning to the left, grabbing something from one of his desk drawers. 

The rough sound of the book hitting the dark wood of the desk made you jump. It was your book, perfectly fixed. You first gasped, then bit your lip, before blushing furiously and looking back up at him. 

"T-thank you…" you whispered stuttering and ready to leave. 

"One second. I'm not done with you." His tone was low and you shivered.

The air was suffocating, you weren't cold at all anymore, you were burning. You watched, unable to take your eyes off of him, as he stood up, walked around his desk and planted himself in front of you, leaning on his desk. 

"Your grades have lowered. I'd like for you to focus a bit more on your next paper." 

His words reached you. Of course you've been absent minded recently and your grades obviously showed it. 

"Oh. Yes, i've been absent minded recently…"

"I've noticed. But boys aren't an excuse." He cut you off. 

You frowned looking at him. Boys? He thought you were sleeping around? 

"What?" You spoke. 

"You heard me." He simply answered. 

"Wait. That's not what it looks like sir…" you spoke, feeling hurt for a second. You didn't want him to think of you like this. 

"You don't have to explain yourself. You're young-"

"No!" You interrupted in a yelp, the pressure almost unbearable. 

You stared at each other, the air was so tense and you had a hard time breathing. You took a step forward, and he straightened himself. 

 "Sir… I swear it's not what it seems… I have been absent minded but it's not because of boys…" you felt silly for trying to explain yourself. He didn't need to know about your private life but, you needed to explain yourself. He had been the only thing on your mind, not the boys who walked around staring at you.

"It's not?" He asked, looking at you, almost relieved. 

"It's not! Well.. it's been a boy…" you confused yourself with your own words, and he frowned, his hand tightening on the edges of the desk, his knuckles turning white. 

"I don't want to know." His tone was cold and you were taken aback. He stood up and you panicked. Your mind didn't have time to catch your train of thoughts, and you stepped forward once more, now only a few inches from his, gaining back his attention.   

"It's you! I can't keep my mind away from you!" You half-yelled, almost looking pained. 

"Excuse me?" He asked in a frown, that you wonderfully ignored, too busy with your rant.

"I've been completely and entirely lost in thoughts because of you! Not any boys, no one else! I don't want you to think that I could have been having sex with any of them!" You spoke out.

"Miss (y/l/n), stop." He warned you, clearing not enjoying you speaking those words, the thought of you in some boy's arms was driving him insane. But once again, you didn't even notice it. 

"I can't possibly want them to touch me, when all I want is you!" You spoke again, your eyes lost looking at everything but his face as you were trying to gather your thoughts. 

"(y/n), STOP." His tone was now threatening, but you failed to notice once more as he spoke your name. 

"I've been unable to focus on anything because I'm entirely Captivated by you, our conversations and I've been dying for you to fuck me!" Your eyes finally met his and you actually let out a moan from the way he looked at you. 

His hand reached for your throat and the other around your waist as he pulled you in roughly for a kiss. His tongue tasted of bourbon, not a lot, probably just a few sips and you moaned loudly. The hand around your neck kept you in place, choking you, yet not entirely squeezing, letting you breath completely well. The other hand reached for your thigh under your skirt and pulled you closer to his body. You could already feel his arousal and your mind went blank. When he pulled away he eyed you darkly, his hand still around your neck. You weren't scared one second. You were begging for this and your doe eyes showed it. He let his forehead rest on yours as your breaths melted together. 

"No one. Can know about this. You hear me little one?" His tone was low but serious. 

It slightly hurt you, but you knew he was right, no one could know about what was going to happen here. 

"Yes sir…" you nicely obeyed. 

He groaned and let go of your neck, his hand joining the other as they slid over your ass to squeeze it. 

"Good girl…" 

His lips met yours again and you melted away. Letting your arms rest around his neck, the passion from the kiss making you forget the place and time. You felt his hands roam your body and you moaned into his lips. He broke the kiss to spin you both around, until he could have you against his desk. He reached for your thighs and pulled you up to sit on it, your legs wrapping around his waist immediately. You pulled him down for a kiss again, and his hand reached for the aim of your white shirt. You only pulled away so we could pass it over your head and throw it somewhere around the room. You were guiltily getting addicted on the taste of his tongue and it felt like the purest sin. 

Your hand passed underneath his shirt to caress his abs and chest and he groaned again. You needed more, wanted more. You rolled your hips, making him fully understand it. It didn't took long for him to pull away and unclasp you black lace bra. The cold air made your nipples harden, and his hand cupped one, letting his thumb run over it. You moaned, closing your eyes. Even like this, you could feel his eyes burning onto you. His other hand reached for the back of your neck, pulling you back, and holding you in place. His powerful grip made you shiver, and you felt his rough beard on your chest, his warm breath making you gasp. The loud  moan you let out made him stop right after he grabbed your other nipple in his mouth. 

"Not a sound baby girl." His tone was not giving you a chance to discuss this. 

You bit your lip trying to suppress another loud moan as he went back to give attention to your niples. Your hands grabbed the aim of his shirt, pulling on it. His tongue was rolling around your soft skin, making you feel those hot waves of pleasure and you could feel yourself getting wetter. You felt yourself get braver and let your hand wonder to the bulge in his pants. You let your hand pump him through his pants but your hand quickly flew up to your mouth as he softly bit down on your niple, enough to blend pain and pleasure and make you almost scream. 

Your little teasing had made you make him reach his own end of patience as he pulled away. You held yourself up with your arms and watched him. In a second he took of his shirt and threw it over his head. He almost looked angry, his actions torn between roughness and sweetness. But you knew he was craving this just as much as you and none of you had enough patience anymore.  He pulled you down from the desk and spun you around. You felt one of his hands behind your neck and the other on your waist. 

"Down." His tone commanded, as he applied a bit of pressure behind your neck. 

You obeyed immediately, shivering when your skin and breast met the cold wood. You couldn't see him anymore but you bit your lip when you felt his fingers run up and down your thighs, getting nearer and nearer to your wet cunt. You pulled your ass up, being too impatient at that point. He immediately met your expectations, his fingers running over your slit through your already wet panties. 

"Fuck." You heard him whisper. 

You closed your eyes and moaned when you felt his fingers pull away the fabric and finally touch you properly. A finger sliding in, pumping and you were biting your lip trying to shut up. He added another finger and you let out a moan a bit too loud. He pulled his fingers away and you whined. 

"If you keep being loud i'll have to stop." He spoke roughly. 

"I'm sorry sir…" you whined again.

His fingers went back to play with you but never sliding in at all. You moaned out, trying your best to keep quiet. 

"S-sir please… I-I need you…" you pleaded, truly losing it. 

"I Know baby girl. Enough playing." His rough tone made you moan and close your eyes. 

His hand left your skin and you heard the sound of his belt. Your nails scratched a bit on the wood as you were anticipating what was coming. You gasped when you felt the tip of dick at your entrance. But he didn't move. 

"Are you sure-" 

"I'm begging please!" You whined, immediately. 

Your breath caught in your lungs as he pushed himself inside you in one move. The low moan he let out made you even more turned on. He grabbed your hips and pushed back out before pushing back in again. You were moaning, trying to be as quiet as possible, his pace slow at first. 

"Fuck… please…" you moaned under your breath. 

He didn't need more before speeding up and this time it was getting much harder to keep quiet. The sound of skin slapping and your muffled moans filling the room. You were already close and you almost whined. This was too fast, not yet… you wanted more. But he had already felt the way you were getting tighter around him. He leaned down letting his arms wrap around your body, one around your waist keeping you in place and controlling the pace, the other getting his hand around your neck. He sped up again and it was almost unbearable again. The hand around your neck shifted place and closed around your mouth muffling the loud moans you weren't even trying to hide anymore. 

You were feeling yourself fall off the edge and you rolled your hips. He had already felt you get near your end.

"Come on baby girl… I want to feel you cum around me.." his husky voice said, right next to your ear. 

That was all you needed to finally explode. You closed your eyes and came hard, screaming against his hand. You felt your senses blur out for a few seconds as the waves of pleasure washed over you, with an orgams much more powerful than any other you had experienced. He was still ramming into you but his thrust were getting shakier. He was getting near as well. 

"Can I cum inside you honey?" His own breathing was shaking.

The only thing you managed to let out was a whining 'please' that he immediately accepted. His thrusts got much deeper and he groaned as he came deep inside you. You moaned loudly again, your eyes still closed. He thrust into you a few more times before finally stopping. Silence fell and you could only hear his shaking breath, and your own heart pounding in your ears. When he pulled out, a minute later, you clearly feel the cum dripping out, the only thing entirely reminding you of what just happened. Your mind was in a haze but damn this couldn't be erased from your memory. You heard him walk around the room and you struggled to hold yourself back up, your eyes still closed a bit as you were catching your breath. 

You felt his hand run through your hair and the other spin you around.

"Hey hey… look at me." His tone was much softer, the roughness of the moment almost lost. 

You blinked your eyes open and let yourself drown into his obsidian ones. 

"Are you alright darling?" He whispered, his hands cupping your face. You nodded away, earning a soft chuckle from him. He pulled away and you grabbed the desk not to fall down to your knees. You watched as he gathered both of your clothes. He gave you your bra and shirt that you managed to put back on, you don't exactly know how. You watched as he slipped his t-shirt back on, the muscles of his back rolling underneath it and you found yourself biting your lip again. No no no… this should have made you let go… not become totally addicted. You grabbed a tissue from the tissue box on the desk and cleaned the drops on your inner thighs while he looked outside of his door for any possible witness. You threw the tissues to the trash and took a deep breath. Your eyes met his and you both froze in silence, the reality of your actions finally hitting you. 

"No one can know. (Y/n)." He simply spoke a bit coldly. 

You felt your chest burn suddenly. It was just sex, what were you expecting? Cuddles and a coffee? You nodded, trying to blink away the tears who were suddenly burning your eyes. You quickly grabbed your bag and walked passed him towards the door. 

"(Y/n), wait.." you heard. 

"Don't worry. No one will know mr wick." You spoke coldly before running out. 

You were too deep down now. And obviously, you had forgotten your book in his damn office.

----

Tags: @thatbemyhouse @magdazwolska

[augustwritessometimes]

Second attempt at posting my LIW week Maria fic! It's going to be completely different from what I originally wrote cuz I didn't save it! FUCK

Baseball AU cuz that's all I write anymore (Maggie - he/him)

Maria gave a small smile to Maggie as he passed her a small bundle of matches, some string, and a pack of gum.

"what's this for Mags?" Maria tilted her head to the side do her "innocent routine" and Anne called it once.

"you're out on injury but you're stuck in here. To keep you from driving us crazy you might as well play some pranks." Maggie shrugged his shoulders and walked away from Maria.

Maria usually wasn't one for pranks, that was usually Joan's territory, But Maggie was right. She's going to drive everyone crazy if she isn't given something to do.

Maria looked at the matches in her left hand and over to Anna and Bessie, both of whom were leaning against the dugout railing watching Aragon's at bat. Maria gathered a few of the matches together and tied the small bundle together with a segment of the string she had been given. She popped a piece of gum in her mouth and chewed it up a bit before taking it out and placing it on the matches.

"who are you gonna get?" Maria jumped and turned to see Anne standing beside her looking towards Bessie and Anna.

"thinking Anna. Bessie will notice me first and kick me in the face again" Anne nodded her head and patted Maria on the shoulder.

"good luck. I'll be standing by with an ice pack." Maria rolled her eyes as the older woman walked away.

Slowly Maria walked towards Anna, hoping that Bessie won't say anything when she notices Maria.

When Maria reaches her intended target. She carefully stuck the bundle of matches to Anna's shoe, making sure the gum held it on. Once it was Maria backed up a little and took another match out, this time striking it and using it to light the bundle on Anna's shoe.

When it lit, Maria smiled and looked towards the cameras that were definitely aimed at her. She waved, pointed to Anna, and walked away to sit on a bench.

It took a couple seconds for Anna to realize that she had anything on her shoe. But when she figured it out, she slammed her shoe against the wall - effectively putting it out and getting it off - before whirling around to scold Joan.

"for once it wasn't me!" Joan had her hands up in a 'I surrender' motion, showing she had neither matches not gum.

"if it wasn't you then who was it?" Anna looked around the dugout scanning her teammates face in an attempt to find who would dare prank her.

"probably Maria, Anna. I mean, she is injured and Maggie handed her something earlier." Bessie nodded her head towards the playing-innocent-but-failing-at-it Maria who looked over rat the mention of her name.

"probably me who did what, Bes?" Bessie rolled her eyes as Anna stalked over to Maria.

Before Maria could move to avoid Anna. The other woman quickly grabbed her and pulled her close.

"you know. You're lucky your injured right now, because it would be an ass move to throw you on the ground while you have a shoulder injury." Maria looked up at Anna and gave a small smile.

"but it wouldn't be an ass move to throw an uninjured teammate on the ground?" Anna playfully shoved Maria away from her.

"fuck you, Salinas. I'll get you back." Maria giggled at Anna's poor attempt at a serious face.

"you know, I don't fancy being fucked by a teammate, especially when I already have a girlfriend!"

@ladiesinwaitingweek @moan-jeutas

[autisticstarseed]

if u could, perhaps, bless us with all the applicable symbols from that fic ask for hvh 👀

ooOoOOOoOO Rub s gay hands togehter omg ty friend 😍;;;;;;

💡 - What was the motivation behind the story?

hHH i hadnt written in 10+ years so when i latched onto this plot idea i just thought itd be a good time to jump the shark and try it again !! i just wanted smth really edgy and depthful bc im emo and the rest kind of snowballed

💎- What was your favorite part?

osdlfksd;lf it’s hard to pick a fav but the drunk scene was definitely the most fun to write at least

⛰️-  What was the hardest part?

THE SCENE WHERE THE GANG IS KIDNAPPED BY ENKI,,,, i debated toning down the violence but in the end i knew where the story was going (and where its still going) and that its gonNA be kinda dark so why hold back now ig

🎭- What was the feeling or mood you were going for?

BITTERSWEET AF,,, sort of just treading the line of ‘hopeful’ and ‘hopeless’ at all times to fully portray the feeling of being at your lowest, but with that classic tss ‘silver linings just around the corner’ kind of undertone

🏟️- Who was your intended audience?

mostly all the adults that watched tss as a kid and felt like spirituaLLY MOVED BY IT cuz i really tried to tap into that Emotion Tee Em we all felt when we found out that zak was [redacted]

🔬- Was there one scene you were building up to/knew you had to get just right?

hHH theres actually a LOT of scenes like that and i think a lot of my general motivation to keep going comes from that ‘WAIT FOR IT WAIT FOR IT’ vibe slkdf:SDF but the Plot Twist tm in the latest chapter was definitely a big’n, and theres a few more of those still to come :^)

🗝️ - What were you thinking when you wrote it?

kjdjFSDs:DF tbh whenever i start really writing, [’im shifting into soup mode’ seinfeld meme voice] im shifting into maladaptive daydreaming mode

🎥- Were there any tv shows, books, or movies that influenced this verse, if any?

:^) devilman crybaby pls forgive me for everytHing

📈- Was there a clear character arch you wanted____ character to go on?

i actually have a short list of what i somewhat consider to be the story arcs in my notes !! mostly just for organization and obvs i wont list the future ones but so far we’ve seen the kushtaka arc, the enki arc, and now we’re in what i call ‘the annunaki’ arc.

🎢- Were there any scenes you were nervous about? For audience reception or otherwise?

ALL OF IT JSHDJSKD, but again a lot of the enki scenes i was worried would be too edgy TM, and the whole annunaki plot as well i was worried might be too ‘out there’ for ppl, but it takes the story exactly where i always wanted it and lines everything up perfectly so i went for it lol. i was also ofc worried if people would like ila or not bc oc but most ppl love her actually which is so 😭❤️

☠️- Did you consider killing off any of the characters? Did you?

8^) [mickey mouse voice] this is a surprise tool that will help us later ,

✉️- Did you title your chapters? What title do you like best?

yes! the next one actually has my favorite chapter title yet, but so far i like ‘so strikes the harpoon’ since its a throwback to the first couple chapters

☀️- Was there symbolism/motifs you worked in?

o every single paragraph is an overly thought out middle school poem im entering in the talent show actually

🎵- Did you have a playlist/piece of music that went with this story?

Yes !! i have HVH insp part 1, Part 2, and an extra one for all those songs that have the vibes but just dont fit enough to make sense in a playlist

📜-Do you want to write something like this again in the future?

probably ! ive learned i definitely like the edgy/darker and emotionally driven stories with ongoing plot, so that trend will almost definitely continue. idk if ill write a dystopia again anytime soon, but i think my future stuff will at least retain that long and heavy vibe

💁- Did readers influence/change any part of this story?

oh yEA like basically i was ready to quit after the very first chapter before it was even written and kinda just got it all out on a whim of motivation but was expecting to flake on it like i tend to do with projects, but the invested response to it was just so uplifting that its what ive been riding on all ten chapters and im so grateful for it :’)))

✏️-Would you go back and change anything if you could?

hHHHHHHH yes and ok this is terrible but i actually tend to avoid re-reading my older chapters until i hAVe to bc i suffer from that sO much ,,, , its just little things like tiny words i wanna change or bits i wanna take out/put in and once or twice ive even caught a mistake or plot hole/smth i forgot to add that i rly do have to go back and edit and i just turn to dust every tim e

⭐- What’s a scene/paragraph you’re proud of?

i really liked the northern lights scene!! it was meant to be a pivotal moment of that ‘bittersweetness’ vibe i was talking abt and it was another one of those scenes i had been planning for a while;;;

“ I think of how much the rest of the family would love this. This isn’t like the moon and the sun, where I can see it and know that even if it looks different, they’ll see the same one soon enough, wherever they are. This reminds me only that I am not with them. It stings. It seems unnatural for something so gentle and natural to appear before us as if we aren’t in complete, total fucking chaos. After all we’ve been through, and the sky still dances. “

📣-What was the best piece of encouragement you got?

AVERY ALL OF UR LIVEBL OGS AND COMMENTS GIV ME SUCH L I FE, ,, ,, CRYIGN CAT FA ce

🔦-Did you learn anything while writing it? About yourself? Writing?

isdfhSDF YEs, part of my hesitation to write came from this thing where i always just assumed there was a wildly high standard of writing in fandom spaces like in original literature spaces, where you had to have like 10+ sentences to a paragraph and you had to describe every tiny detail of a setting and you had to follow every single grammar rule or it was unreadable but like. genuinely its like sculpting with words as long as you have a shape ppl get the idea which is such a weight off my shoulders lol, its still a lot of work but so much fun to know i can to an extent do what i want and ppl actually like it like that. i also learned that like most other writers i have to cause my favs emotional and physical pain,

🎁- Any writing advice for people who want to write something like this?

hhHHHH 1. please do it its so fun just give in to the edge my guy , 2. try to get comfortable re-reading your chapters, for me its like when ppl listen to themselves sing/act but im trying to do better bc its so much more consistent when i keep it fresh in my mind and it also boosts confidence when u can pick out the things u like instead of the things u dont, 3. trying to have at least one scene in mind for each chapter that ur excited to write so u can have motivation to update faster! for me it doesnt have to be smth i think would excite the audience either like it could be the most basic thing but just having an idea of it and knowing i want to see it come to life rly helps me stay on top of it all

TY SM FRIEND THIS WAS SO FUN x x )

[nekokoaa]

May I get a deaf! reader x Present Mic? I just love the idea of him slowing down his speech so she can read his lips, or him going out of his way to learn sign language? (I need more than one author to do this because he's a sweet bean, and this idea should be spread like a plague.) -Perhaps when they meet he gets offended cuz she's 'ignoring' him?-

Fandom: bnha

Character: Present Mic (Hizashi Yamada)

No warnings.

I really feel for this request because recently I watched a documentary on deaf children in Japan and it was the most empowering thing I ever watched. Those children are so inspiring. It honestly made me want to try and learn sign language, so I was really happy to write this request and I hope it represented the deaf community well. It’s in three short parts.

**Signing or other means of communication is in italics. If it’s hard to see for some of you guys, I can change it and make it Bold or just add the quotations instead.

Also, sorry that this request took so long to get out! I hope you enjoy, love!

————————————————————

I.

Hizashi’s life had always revolved around sound for as long as he could remember. From an energetic child to a raging teenager and even now, as an adult, he couldn’t imagine his life without it. It became a part of him, literally, his quirk was the embodiment of sound and his reason for being the hero he is. Silence was never an option.

Until now.

Hizashi wouldn’t call himself a flirt as he was always a respecter of women and was aware that most women hated to be randomly flirted on, so he didn’t understand what came over him when he saw you treading down the halls of U.A. It was the first time he ever saw you and it was probably the first time a woman ever made him freeze up like that. He couldn’t recall when was the last time he became shaken up because of a woman, but once you were about to pass him, he had called out to you on impulse and to his surprise, you brushed past him without a glance in his direction. Questions emerged within his brain as to why you ignored him, all he did was simply sent a greeting your way, he didn’t comment on your looks or sounded flirtatious in his speech. It was just a simple good morning.

Hizashi pondered about this moment for the rest of the day. He couldn’t understand what was wrong with his approach and later realized how rude you were for not greeting him back, especially a teacher of U.A. He didn’t know what profession you were in or your reason for being at the school, but he at least knew a simple greeting wouldn’t have hurt you.

And once again, to his surprise, he found out the very reason why you ignored him that morning. He stumbled upon it the next day while he interrupted Aizawa’s abnormally large class to inform him about a sudden schedule change for the teachers and the reason for Aizawa’s class being abnormally large was because it was being combined with another class, specifically, your class. Hizashi found out that day that you were actually a teacher for the hearing-impaired middle school not too far from U.A. You had brought your students to U.A on a field trip to inspire and learn from their students and that they can, despite their differences, become a hero too. Each of Aizawa’s students were paired with yours and was engaging in a simple activity together. Aizawa took this as a chance to introduce you to Hizashi and Hizashi, needless to say, almost froze again when you approached him. Just a glimpse of you in the hallway was enough to know that you were a beautiful woman but seeing you in front of his eyes had him wondering if this was reality.

“Nice to meet you, Present Mic. I’ve heard such great things about your work as a hero.” Those words didn’t form from your voice but from your hands in a series of symbols and the woman next to you brought them to life with her voice. He assumed she was your translator.

“Uhh…” For the first time in his life, Hizashi was speechless and Aizawa raised an eyebrow at that. But Hizashi knew he had to get the cog in his brain to work somehow, he couldn’t physically slap himself in your presence (and he sure wanted to) instead he managed to hold his hand out for a shake and his brain started to lag behind slowly. “G-Great to meet you too!” He said, rather loudly, fast even.

Although, you didn’t need your translator to understand what was said. You smiled gently, and it almost made him melt. The next, your hand met with his in a firm grip for a shake and this time, he melted. For such a firm grip, you had the softest hands in the world, smaller than his yet it didn’t falter in strength. You held a steady stare towards him and even though Hizashi’s shades covered his eyes, it was like you penetrated the material. You struck through his soul, his heart, all from a simple shake of hands. Is this what they call ‘love at first sight’? He didn’t believe in such a thing before but seeing you within his sights made it feel all the more real.

II.

Since that fated day, Hizashi had made it his mission get closer to you. He managed to get your number to “continue to plan out events with U.A and your students” but in reality, he just wanted to talk to you more. It started out as simple brainstorming session through text before it took off into casual talk. He learned that you were born deaf but had a quirk that allowed you to physically feel all types of sound waves—even the ones that average human ears couldn’t pick up—absorbed them and reflect them back onto an object.

                                        Today 1:30 PM

2:15 PM: Even though, I can’t hear it. I can feel it. It’s like a vibration. Sometimes they’re small, other times they’re large. And if I wanted to, I can use those vibrations to break something—like glass, I guess.

Hizashi’s eyes widened when he read your text, he was at his desk in the teacher’s office, spinning around mindlessly in his chair. He really should’ve been looking over some documents, but he became lost within his phone, eagerly waiting for your replies.

2:17 PM: Seriously!? That’s one hell of a quirk! You could’ve become a hero if you wanted to!

He sent the text and set his phone down only to pick it back up a minute later when he saw it lit up.

2:18 PM: I wanted to.

Was what he received and nothing else. His eyebrows furrowed at it. His fingers dashed wildly upon the screen and his thumb hovered over the send button.

2:18 PM: I came up with a new activity my students can do with your students. We should inform Aizawa.

But your message came faster, and the message he wanted to send, ‘what stopped you?’, was replaced. You changed the subject for a reason, so he wasn’t going to pry.

2:20 PM: We should talk it over a drink then! I’m free after 5!

Hizashi taut his lips. Was that too friendly? Flirtatious? Damn, he never had to think of his words this much before. He was always a smooth talker, it came to him easy, so why was it so hard to talk to you? He knew his suggestion was a shot in the dark. There was a high chance that you would reject him, but that was the key word, right? Chance. As long as there was a chance of rejection, there was also a chance of acceptance.

2:25 PM: Sure! There’s this bar in the city I like to go to. I’ll send you the address.

“Yeaaah hoooooo!!” Hizashi suddenly jumped to his feet as he howled, thrusting his fists towards the ceiling when he read your text. You said yes! You actually said yes! Is this considered a date? Maybe not, but who cares, you said yes!

Around 5 pm, Hizashi already met up with you at a relatively chilled bar in the southside of the city. He definitely wasn’t planning to get drunk, so he just ordered a beer while you ordered a pina colada. The conversation was simple between you, it started as completely work related. You relayed your ideas to Hizashi by small notebook and pen and he intently read whatever you wanted to say. You read his lips whenever he spoke, at times he had to slow down because you would miss what he said. And Hizashi, at that moment, realized how annoying it was to communicate this way. He somewhat wished he knew sign language to make the conversation smoother between you two.

The conversation shifted from work to personal as the atmosphere of the bar couldn’t help but make it so.

“So, about your quirk…” Hizashi started. He saw your eyes flicker away for a moment before they returned. “Isn’t it annoying being around all these sounds?”

You quickly turned to your notebook and wrote your answer down.

I’m used to it already. When I was little, it was the scariest thing. I remember crying to my parents about it all the time, but I came to terms with it.

“And you’re telling me, you can absorb those sonic waves and reflect them back onto objects?” You didn’t need your notebook for this. A simple smile and a nod were all Hizashi needed. “That’s pretty damn powerful, it’s kind of like my quirk!”

Well… Not really. You project your voice to a certain frequency to where it could cause someone’s ears to bleed! You started to laugh which was the most adorable thing to Hizashi. It was a silent laugh, but your shaking form and your hand that covered your large smile gave it away. Besides… I can take your quirk’s power and use it against you. The louder it is, the stronger I get! Was what you wrote, and it earned a very loud laugh from Hizashi, so loud that the other patrons of the bar glanced at you two. Hizashi didn’t care and neither did you.

“You know, we’re still accepting applications for U.A! Feel free to fill them out!!” Hizashi was expecting to see you laugh again but something about his joke struck a chord with you. Your smile dropped, and you suddenly looked away from him. You reached for your pina colada and stirred it with the straw hanging off the curvy glass.

“W-Was it something I said?” You didn’t know what he said but you felt the sound waves of his voice when he spoke. It was very distinguishable from all the other voices in the bar. There was just something about it that made you know it was coming from Hizashi. “Miss ____?” A nervous laugh after was all he could do to make the mood seem less tense. You started to write in your notebook, your knuckles protruded as your gripped your pen tightly.

Earlier today, I told you I wanted to be hero. Well, I did try back in middle school, I applied for U.A but I was denied.

“Denied…?” You avoided looking at Hizashi and kept your eyes on your notebook. You began to tap your pen against the paper like you were trying to decide your next words.

The reason why they denied me was because of my disability. They didn’t have the resources to accommodate me, so they couldn’t accept me.

Hizashi knew that U.A was harder to get accepted to back when he applied, but he didn’t think they were rejecting students they couldn’t accommodate for.

Till this day, U.A has not accepted anyone who is deaf. Which is why I’m working together with Aizawa to ensure that will change in the future. My students, some of them have amazing quirks… and It’s hard for me to believe that they can’t become heroes because of something they were born with.

“That’s… very heroic of you.” Hizashi lowered his eyes, somewhat ashamed to hear of U.A’s past faults.

Someone has to pave the way for these kids.

Silence had fallen between the two of you, something Hizashi wasn’t used to. You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to say something about the current subject, but he suddenly changed it, his eyes met yours as he spoke. For some reason, it felt as if time had stopped, seeing Hizashi so serious had thrown you off. “If there was a chance to be reborn with hearing, would you take it?”

Your eyes had widened slightly to his question, but it didn’t delay your answer. You began to furiously write in your notebook and Hizashi hovered over slightly to see your words.

I don’t regret being born deaf. It’s not my fault. It’s not a fault. It’s part of who I am… and I’m content with that. So, no.

“I can’t imagine my life without sound.” He grumbled, but you were still able to make out his words from his lips.

Most people can’t. You scribbled.

“I guess that’s what makes you strong.” You were taken aback when you saw Hizashi’s lips slowly changed into a warm smile after he spoke. His eyes behind his shades softened as they gazed upon your face and his arm propped up his head as he leaned his head against his knuckles. He might not have noticed the dreamy expression he was making at you, but you surely did.

You blushed profusely, your eyes started fidgeting between Hizashi and your notebook. You weren’t sure what to do as it looked like he completely lost himself within his head and wasn’t talking anymore. You quickly snatched your notebook off the counter and started to write with your shaky hands and when you were done, you pushed your notebook towards him and leaned your head upon your hand that covered your mouth as you shyly looked in the opposite direction.

Thank you.

III.

Hizashi didn’t know how hard it was going to be to communicate with just his hands and subtle movements of lips, but he practiced for months for this day, the day he would finally ask you out on a date. You and Hizashi talked and nearly saw each other every day, it was only a matter of time until you two start going out, right? At least that’s what Hizashi believed. He hoped he didn’t imagine all those intimate moments you shared with him for these past months. It couldn’t have been all in his head, right?

He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. He nearly knocked his shades off his head in doing so and he straightened them when they became crooked. He was practicing his sign language in front of his bathroom’s mirror for the last time until he leaves for your school.

Even though it was Saturday, you invited Hizashi to a poetry event that your students were taking part in and you really wanted him to come. How could he have said no when you looked so sweet when you asked him? Of course, he was going to go. He might’ve overdressed a bit for the occasion though, he was wearing a white suit jacket which was opened and showed his black collared shirt under. His shirt was without a tie and was unbuttoned at the top until his collar flared out slightly. He made sure to gel his hair to perfection where not even a single strand was out of place. This day had to be perfect. It had to be.

Hizashi left his apartment with renewed vigor and he made it to your school just an hour before the event started. You greeted Hizashi with a hug at the entrance of your classroom. He melted in your arms, he honestly wished the hug didn’t last seconds but hours, days even. You guided him to a chair in the front row before you left him to greet more parents that piled into the classroom. Excited smiles were on their faces when they spotted their children all sitting together at the front of the class. The children, however, looked a little nervous until you came to talk to them. You signed a bit at them and their nerves were quickly replaced with soft smiles.

Hizashi was honored to come to this event. It was definitely his first time attending a poetry session in sign language. As like anyone learning a new language, it was still hard to interpret what was being said but you helped him by giving him the written translation of the poems. He still tried to interpret it on his own, only using the translation if he had no idea what was being signed. He also had to make sure you didn’t find out that he’s been learning sign, he wanted to surprise you when he asks you out.

Poems of simple messages like nature or family were the majority but there was one poem that stuck with Hizashi. A loud voice in a silent world, was the title and by just that, he was captured by it. It was a story about the struggles of being deaf in the hearing world, a voice so loud yet silent to the world. He couldn’t help but give the poem a standing ovation once it ended. He clapped loudly and cheered, and your student bowed happily to the audience. You showed him how to cheer in sign after, raising your hands in the air and shaking them with excitement. Once he learned, it was all he did for every student, cheering with his hands rather than his voice.

“That was amazing! Your students have so much talent!” Hizashi had said once you escorted all the parents and students out of the classroom. It was only you two that remained in it. He immediately thought it was his chance. You had a permanent smile on your face and looked absolutely delighted while you were writing your response in your notebook.

Yes, they do! Thank you so much for coming! I’m so happy you came.

“You know I would!”

You smiled with flushed cheeks and looked away shyly before you moved to straighten some desks. You felt Hizashi’s eyes linger on you after you had walked away from him, you had a feeling he wanted to tell you something, but you were still feeling shy from before and continued to avoid his eyes.

“____.”

The vibration you felt against your skin was all too familiar. Straightaway you knew it was coming from Hizashi. No longer could you avoid his gaze, his hands moved swiftly and shakily but you understood every symbol that was made out by his fingers. Language wasn’t coming from his voice but from his hands through sign. You nearly dropped your notebook in surprise, bringing a hand to cover on your lips as you watched his hands.

Do you want to go on a date with me?

He had such a handsome, wide smile on his face once he was done like he was proud to be able to communicate to you with your language. He knew your answer already once he saw that warm smile he loved spread your lips from ear to ear.

Of course, I will!

[softforcal]

Writing Tips

I get a lot of asks about tips on writing so i figured i’d just make a huge ass post for ya’ll :)

this shit covers: character, plot, motivation, past vs present tense, 3rd vs 1st verson, oneshots vs multi chapter fics, moodboards for character building, dialogue, oc’s vs reader inserts, face claims, the grocery store test, the meme test

Character

okay i want to start by saying: i used to write imagines so writing in character was like MY THING for like 6 years so i have a LOT OF PRACTICE with watching something and picking up on characters and i’ve spent THOUSANDS of hours watching shows. so like, i’ve spent a lot of time on this you know? so don’t feel bad if you have a life and havent had as much practice :)

so at the moment, i’ve been doing character mood boards to help figure out a character? but the thing about that is im picky about face claims and it can be hard so this is an easily skippable option and i’m not even sure if i enjoy it yet you know?

so first: i think of a story. i think of the type of OC that’s involved, i think about what they’re like, (i sometimes find a face claim), i give them a name

for me, as soon as they have a name and sort of a face in my brain, they take on a life of their own. a character knows when you’ve found the right name and face for it and it comes alive when you do. like for me, Birdie was originally ‘Cherry’ but she was like ‘bitch no’ and wouldn’t let me write her until i found her name.

to be honest. i don’t plan things. like. when i write, the character just takes over. i have no control. they do what they want. fucking Valentina and Harry in Trouvaille, i had a whole angst scene for them and these assholes decided to go on the terrace and tell each other they like each other instead and then the story just ended. like. i had a pLAN and they RUINED IT.

you can’t be afraid if letting your characters do what they want to do. when you plot, a loose outline is good but i just throw my characters into a situation and see where they go.

like for my final gang au chapter, did i want Michael to leave town? no. but he needed to take Dove and get the fuck out of there you know?

i don’t make playlists really, sometimes certain songs stick to people, like one of my characters, his song right now is Girlfriend by Anderson East and that song was sort of inspiration.

I don’t know where my inspiration comes from. obviously i write a FUCK ton so let me see if i can explain a few past stories and where they came from.

Gang AU was born from a post by @hereforlukescruff​ about the song ‘Or Nah.’

Cromulent was based off a tumblr post about enemies fake dating

Wild one was legit just me figuring out how to work all of @glitterprincelu​s fav things into one fic

Floral was based off of looking at my favourite tattoo artists floral tattoos

Trouvaille was originally pompous New York! Calum but as i developed it, it was Harry and i couldn’t stop him from pushing Cal out of the way and being like ‘this is my apartment you wanker get the fuck out of here and let me smoke and paint in peace.’

Noise was originally based off an idea by @palliddark​ that i was blessed enough to receive, she also had influence in Cromulent because months ago she requested a post about the boys recording having sex for a song.

So i think what we’re realizing here is a lot of it comes through interacting with other creators. one of my new pieces is based off of 2 5sos songs and one is based off of a person in Love Island. so inspo can hit from anywhere

the fic im working on now came from me talking to @harryforvogue​ about the new Gucci ads Harry did.

i started a Greaser Cal that i dropped cuz im a whore, but it was inspired by @calsangel​ and hopefully it gets completed sometime soon

like. talking to other creative people is just a breeding pool for ideas. people you trust and love, people who you can bounce off of. listen for stories in music, study people and characters and who knows where it might lead you :)

i hope this helps. but yeah. my number one piece of advice: talk about writing, talk about stories, talk about the guys you want to write about and inspo WILL hit.

also to all the people i have tagged i hope you know how much you guys mean to me. like. i really appreciate all you guys do and how much support you’ve given me and continue to give me. i hope i can offer the same support in return and i love you all with my whole heart.

****** Moodboard and Character (final thoughts)

So basically since i wrote that OG advice, i’ve begun to realize: moodboards are a good tool because if you can easily come up with 9 pics for a character they’re pretty well thought out. 

for example, my easiest moodboard to make was for Birdie in my gang au

Birdie: likes scrunchies, reading, classic stories, ice cream, bubblegum, lollipops, acrylic nails, having her hair in a bun

my worst moodboard was for a character named Annabelle from Noise

i started and was like... who is Annabelle: she’s blonde... she uhhhh is doing psychology?

and that’s all i could get because Annabelle was a mostly dialogue driven character with no actual mentioned likes or dislikes, in my eyes, Annabelle was not a well thought out character.

so moodboards can help because they show you how well you’ve got your characters figured out.

******

Plot

so plot is tough. i tend to gravitate more to character driven plot because characters are my #thing. i’m going to start by going through some of my plotlines and going over the good and bad and hopefully have an answer at the end of it after picking apart my writing. should be FUN.

long fic plots

Noise plot: Annabelle gets a new neighbour and he keeps fucking girls and waking her up and they have banter, he’s a hothead and invites her to psychoanalyze him and it leads to some tension but he is soft for her right away and they a little awkward with each other but finally give love a try.

Floral plot: would renowned tattoo artist Calum chooses a new apprentice, socially awkward and anxious Lily, they’re attracted to each other but the confines of a boss and pupil relationship are tight and evident, creating tensions. Calum struggles with being professional while falling for the cute apprentice, especially when pressure is put on them by their friends, after slow burn and anxiousness they finally get together.

Cromulent plot: Calum has a new PR relationship with Chlo and he hates her, he thinks she’s fake and does everything he can to piss her off, finally deciding to fuck with her emotions by being a GREAT boyfriend which ends up hurting her and he realizes maybe she’s not so bad after all, things are a little confusing but they finally sit down and talk it out and address some of Calum’s insecurities about her past relationships and PR stunts, they agree to give love a try.

so, from these 3 long fic outlines we can see i usually go for character based turmoil which works well for fics between 10-15k (or longer, Trouvaille fits this format and it was 19k) I just think, relationships take time and people struggle to figure themselves out enough to enter a relationship. if you have some fiery characters and banter (Cromulent and Noise) or perhaps awkward anxiety and tip toeing (Floral and Trouvaille) shit works out you know?

for smaller oneshot fics plots can be easier and more situational i think.

Movie Snack plot : Cal goes to Luke and his GF’s place for movies and Luke gets bored and eats the reader out in front of Cal which leads to sex.

Road Trip plot : Luke and reader are dating and on a road trip they’re horny but end up having to share a room with Cal who has always had a thing for the reader, smut ensues. 

Stay Still plot : Tattooist!Cal is the readers fuck buddy and she goes to get her tits pierced, ending up with Luke as her piercer, but Calum shows up and angst leads to smut.

so yeah, for smaller 1-5k little smut pieces it can be more relaxed, smut is just smut, not love, and sex is a hell of a lot easier than love you know? 

yeah, so that’s all my plot advice

*********

3rd person, 1st person, what the fuck person

when it comes to HOW you write your fic (what person, what tense, etc...) that’s up to you. it’s honestly whatever you feel best in. i’ve dabbled with a bit of everything. you just have to find what feels the most natural to you :) that’s the only advice i can give on this because no one thing is better than the other, it’s up to you.

one tip for 3rd person i have is to generally focus on one character. i’m a fan of doing the thing where for example, in Cromulent, we focus on Calum and why he doesn’t like Chlo. if we switched to Chlo a lot it would take away from the unreliable narration and bias Calum has. the good thing is to stay with Calum and be angry at Chlo and realize with Cal that she’s not so bad.

but that’s just me.

you can do switching when characters are together or on a phone call, like if you’re with Calum but he’s calling (for example) Chlo and then you want to see her reaction you can do

Calum groaned, staring at the ceiling, “bla bla cal saying shit”

“bla bla Chlo answering” she held the phone tighter etc...

and just like that you’re now with Chlo not Calum. 

*********** OC’s vs Reader Insert

i’ll be real here: for some reason, i feel like reader inserts are more read on tumblr and i started out doing reader inserts to build a following. 

personally, i prefer writing OC’s because you can go more in depth with EVERYTHING. 

it’s honestly up to you what you want to do. i’ve decided to do my short smuts at reader insert and longer fics as OC but it’s whatever works for you at the end of the day.

***********

Dialogue

I’m a fan of dialogue driving story, Noise was so much fucking dialogue it’s insane. finding your characters voice is important and sticking with that makes a huge difference. if you’re character can kind of be seen based JUST on what they’re saying, thats a good sign.

i hate to say it but imma say it: when doing 5sos it’s important to know they’re Australian. some countries have different mannerisms and such, for example, i’m Canadian but i can’t have Calum out here saying “it’s a nice day eh?” you know? so, i would advise to try to get a handle on accents and word choice specifically to make them more believable. as is said in the iconic movie Tropic Thunder 

***********

Motivation

so this is probably one of the biggest issues writers are facing and i’m about to get REAL AS FUCK.

on tumblr, it can feel like once you gain a following you CONSTANTLY need to be pumping shit out for them.

back in the day, i was posting a HC a day and a lot of it was for hogwarts!5sos. it felt like a job, which wasn’t anyone elses doing per se, i just think a lot of fic writers get caught up in this pressure whether it’s imposed by anons or not (im lucky that i’ve never had anon pressure and i’m very grateful for my amazing followers tbh)

Tumblr is not a job. if you’re writing, write for you. you are blessing tumblr with you’re writing. please don’t feel pressure to put stuff out or write a new chapter or anything.

if you ever feel like you’re under a lot of pressure, take a few days away, find the root of your writing joy. always do what you want to do. if you have to turn off asks to feel sane, do it. if you gotta block mean anons pressuring you, do it. you don’t owe anyone anything.

your writing is a gift graciously bestowed on this hellsite and this site shouldn’t make you feel pressured to write and give content FOR FREE. it shouldn’t make you lose your passion and make writing feel like a chore or job.

motivation can be hard. i’m a fucking psycho so don’t use me as a base for what you should be doing. i put out a fic a week which i really shouldn’t be doing, it’s not practical. but i can type fast as fuck and writing 1 or 2k in 10 minutes is normal for me so don’t use me as an example you know.

go at your own pace. write what you love. write au’s or for the characters you love and hopefully the rest will come.

******** Multi Chapter vs oneshots

ok more realness, pros and cons of each

oneshots:

pros:

-its one and done, no need to worry about putting out more

-they can be fun

-it’s all in one place which a lot of readers like

Cons:

-can be long af

-take longer to write since a oneshot is probably like 10+k depending on who you are as opposed to perhaps 5k chapters of a multi chapter fic 

Multi Chapter

pros:

-people are excited for more

-cliffhangers are fun

-people interact with you more about chapters to come

cons:

-more pressure to put out new chapters

-with each new chapter you’re probably losing likes because people get bored or forget about it because people sometimes don’t have the attention span or whatever to continue reading whenever you update

-usually tend to be longer than a oneshot (5k chapters means that in 2 chapters you have probably surpasses a oneshot length of 10ishk)

So i will be real. i prefer oneshots. i adore my gang au which was long as fuck and super multi chaptered but it’s tough to see the likes go down and down. plus, i wrote all of Penumbra (the main multi chaptered part) before i started putting it out so i had no pressure to write more cuz that shit was done before i started posting.

which does help. if you want to write the whole thing before you start posting it takes off the first con but you’re still left with the other 2. 

**********

Face Claims

i feel like for some characters they’re born without a face claim but i totally get it if you want to use a face claim before you even start. finding face claims can be hard so you have to get ready to go creep on insta and look at models and figure out who you like. a lot of insta models follow each other so once you find a model you like, look through their following list or recent likes to see other models.

another thing you can do is go for brands or photographers who link their models. Fashion Nova for example, if you’re scrolling through and like a girl the link is there. and the same goes for some photographers. there’s a lot of accounts that are just for hot girls with links to their instas so (even if it feel weird) you should go check those out :)

******

The Grocery Store Test

next, for making characters, i think for me name is a big part of it. once a character finds their name that character comes alive in my mind. i was thinking about this yesterday and i said to myself, ‘you know you have a good grasp on your character when you can imagine them in a grocery store and know what they’d do.’

for example:

Birdie (from Gang AU) would go look at nail polish and candy, Luke would legit have to put her in the cart to get her out of there and if there’s a book section? good luck man

Valentina (trouvaille) is just gorgeous. she and Harry would go and he’d push the cart and she’d have a nicely written notepad of things to get and she’d look so pretty, head bowed, crossing things off, and Harry would be such a melt for her. he would crash into things cuz he’s so busy paying attention to her. she’d be a fan of picking up boxes and reading out nutritional values just to point out to Harry that eggos are not good for him.

so, Valentina and Birdie are probably my best OC’s if i’m being honest and because of that, these were easy.

now, take a character i didn’t work on as much and suddenly it’s different

Annabelle (noise) never really talked about anything but school and shitting on Calum so, i mean, i guess i can think of what she’d do in a store but.. like, i’d have to think about it you know?

so to me, we can see the difference between a fully fledged OC and one that needs to be worked on.

but, Noise still got a lot of likes so i dunno, i’m just self critical i guess.

i think, when it comes to characters, everyone has flaws. Annabelle is too critical of Calum and has a stigma about wealth, Valentina… she’s flawless not gonna lie but she’s a little too afraid of stepping on other people’s toes and she should probably be less anxious, Birdie is way too sentimental and cries over everything, plus she’s way too trusting and naive at times.

it’s balance. but once a character is born in your brain, you just gotta give them love and hopefully others will as well :)

*****

The Meme Test

my most recent advice is: if you can meme a character or dynamic between characters, you know you’re gucci. imma leave a meme here for a fic i’m working on and ya’ll will have no clue what it means but whatever it’s a point

*****

so hopefully this has answered any questions you have. this is all just my opinion and if you disagree with what i’ve said thats chill. at the end of the day this is what works for me and i urge you to find what works for you. there’s no one clear way to write.

good luck writer bubs :) 

[commentaryvorg]

Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Part 6.10

Be aware that this is not a blind playthrough! This will contain spoilers for the entire game, regardless of the part of the game I’m commenting on. A major focus of this commentary is to talk about all of the hints and foreshadowing of events that are going to happen and facts that are going to be revealed in the future of the story. It is emphatically not intended for someone experiencing the game for their first time.

Last time in trial 6, everything became terrible in a hopefully-mostly-deliberate way as Keebo took over as protagonist. Tsumugi pandered to the audience by trying to twist the story to be all about them and not this story’s actual goddamn cast, then completely forgot about that moments later as she forced an arbitrarily cruel final vote on the students that has nothing to do with actual hope and despair, apparently Kaito’s efforts in trial 5 suddenly mean nothing because it turns out the audience is totally okay with unfair executions after the mastermind broke the rules, and Keebo kept spouting a familiar meaningless buzzwordy hope that didn’t address any of his friends’ actual reasons for being in despair, which the audience lapped up because they’re morons while Keebo utterly failed to consider that maybe what they want from him isn’t actually a good thing.

Keebo’s already chosen to become the first arbitrary pointless sacrifice of the vote, and the Mass Panic Debate we just finished was supposedly him trying to inspire one of the others to do the same, even though he wasn’t even shooting his hope at them.

“Nekomaru”:  “Even if you won’t give up, as long as you don’t sacrifice someone el—”

Not giving up is the definition of hope! Doing anything other than that should not be necessary for hope to “win”, you arbitrary fucking murderer!

But one way or another, whether due to Keebo’s nonsensical Hope Bullet efforts or not (I’d very much like to think not), Maki chooses to sacrifice herself.

Maki:  “If Keebo and I sacrifice ourselves… then Shuichi and Himiko live, right? Then they can… survive this absurd killing game…”

Of course it would be her. Her backstory meant that she’d never cared all that much about her own survival or her own suffering, so if she can die to let at least Shuichi and Himiko live, then that’s no real loss, right? Kaito only helped so much with her sense of self-worth… and maybe his influence has been dampened right now because of all the bullshit Tsumugi has been spouting.

Shuichi:  “Maki…?”

There’s a very subtle wavering to Shuichi’s voice here beneath his surprise. He can’t bear the thought of losing her too, and it’s this pain that’s going to lead to him figuring everything out and fighting back.

Maki:  “I don’t want this killing game to end with despair. That would just… piss me off.”

Tsumugi:  “Even if you only feel that way cuz I wrote you like that? Just like with Kaito…”

Tsumugi’s still bullshitting about the Kaito part, but otherwise what she’s saying is not entirely wrong. Despair being bad is self-evident and you don’t need to be written a specific way to think that. But the feeling of needing to “defeat” despair is something that’s still a part of Maki being manipulated, not by the way she was originally written, but by that Flashback Light in chapter 5. Maki still can’t quite see that to its fullest extent, despite having long since realised that the main point of that Flashback Light was to manipulate her into killing Kokichi.

Maki:  “Even then… I’ll choose that ending if it means I can kill you. Even if I have to sacrifice my life, I will kill you!”

Now that’s something that’s how Maki’s always been written. Deal with problems that have no easy solution by killing them, and definitely kill the big evil mastermind no matter what you have to sacrifice to do so. Maki Roll, can’t you see that this is exactly like what you were trying to do for the first half of Kaito’s trial?

This would at least be Tsumugi’s writing backfiring on her, if this “punishment” she was going to receive was actually death. But since it’s not, she’s quite happy with Maki choosing this, and guh.

“Makiiii”

“my darling assassin T_T”

“That’s my Maki.”

“Assassiiiiin”

Maki has fans. Her fans seem somewhat possessive of her (although at least she doesn’t have the total sicko that Shuichi has). It also seems that some of them are hung up on the idea that she’s an assassin and don’t see her as so much more than that, as if the only reason they like her is a shallow “hurr durr schoolgirl assassin hot”, rather than any of the many things that have been compelling and interesting about her character and her arc. She deserves so much better than this.

���ALL OF THESE TEARS”

“;_; i’m gonna cry…”

At least a few of them are actually having meaningful, human reactions to this – a character they love is going to sacrifice herself for her friends! This is sad! …or, well, it would be if the sacrifice was at all meaningful and not completely arbitrary, but, you know.

“Another hope loop?”

This might finally be a vague allusion to other seasons we haven’t seen. I can kind of imagine a “hope loop” becoming the fandom term for one particular way in which the meaningless arbitrary hope ending was once resolved, but it doesn’t sound like it’s referring to DR1 or 2 specifically.

“Shuichi looks yummy <3”

I’m going to keep giving you updates on this one person just so you can keep seeing how much of an absolute creep they are.

Tsumugi:  “I told you over and over there’s nothing for you out there.”

Keebo:  “No, once the audience sees this ending, I’m sure they’ll help us.”

Oh, poor naïve Keebo, thinking that the audience is a force for good and actually gives a fuck about any of his friends when they’ve been watching them die. When they’ve been doing this for fifty-three seasons and keep wanting more. This ending right now is not meaningfully different from any of the previous ones and is not going to change anything about the audience’s behaviour at all, Keebo.

Shuichi:  “It’s because of hope that this whole thing is happening!”

But Shuichi gets it! He’s figured it out! I also love the emotion in his voice here. All of Shuichi’s (English) voice acting in this last part of the trial we’re entering is just fantastic.

The music used for Shuichi’s Rebuttal Showdown here is Clair de Lune again, which is lovely. It’s like that’s become less Kaede’s song and more just a song for Shuichi’s sadness over losing his friends.

It’s a neat twist that the last Rebuttal Showdown is against the game’s actual protagonist. This is possibly the easiest one in the whole game, with Shuichi’s words coming in completely horizontal, unmoving lines. He’s just explaining the plain truth of the matter. He’s not wrong and he’s not trying to get in anyone’s way; he’s about to fix this whole ridiculous mess.

Keebo:  (Shuichi… why? Is this the power of despair? Or…)

Yes, Keebo, despair is clearly so powerful and so evil that it dares to make Shuichi not talk like hope is the best thing ever. It couldn’t possibly be that Shuichi’s actually making complete sense and isn’t in despair any more and you should listen to him.

Buuut, Keebo’s only bullet (or, well, blade) is still just “hope”, so he still thinks that’s the only possible solution to this situation.

Keebo:  “Despair takes everything from people! Even their strength to press onward! That’s why it’s not possible for despair to be better!”

Keebo, you absolute moron, this isn’t about which one is better! Obviously Shuichi knows that hope is a better feeling to have than despair, because he’s not an idiot! But no matter what Tsumugi’s trying to make it sound like, this isn’t about proving any kind of point like it was in DR1; this is about what happens next. This is about whether the outcome of the vote, regardless of which meaningless label is slapped on it, is something we’re actually okay with, including the fact that the killing game will keep happening if we do this.

“Shuichi is the cycle of despair?”

“What are you saying, hat boy?”

“What if Shuichi is the mastermind?”

“You’re slipping up, detective.”

“Fire, Keebo! I’ll allow it!”

Aaaaaand the audience has suddenly completely stopped caring about Shuichi as a character because he dared to say a bad word about hope. This is again not remotely what an actual reasonable, human audience that’s been enjoying this story up until now would ever do, and this time it can’t just be the cherry-picked minority of despair lovers, because this is the people who are rooting for “hope”. A reaction something like “well, he’s kind of got a point, but I still want more killing games…” would be reasonable, but not just immediately denouncing him the moment he questions them. Did they not even care about Shuichi at all during the five chapters they’ve seen of him and the arc he’s had?

Shuichi:  “The people watching probably feel the same way… They want hope, too.”

Oh, Shuichi, you are giving them far too much credit. You’re assuming that the “hope” they’re obsessed with is actual hope that will inspire them in their daily lives. It sure would be realistic and understandable and relatable if that was the actual way the narrative was portraying this, but it really isn’t.

Shuichi:  “Even if it’s fiction, everyone wants to feel hope… It gives them… courage.”

That should be how this works. And I love that Shuichi clearly understands this on a personal level. Now would be a very relevant time to remind everyone that Shuichi’s Likes in the report card are listed as “Novels”. Which means that, most likely, he always used fiction to give himself courage, especially when he had so little courage on his own in the first place! Shuichi understands better than any of these one-dimensional morons in the audience exactly what gaining real hope from fiction really feels like!

Shuichi:  “While they ignore all the tragedies that we had to suffer to get there!”

Keebo:  “Shuichi, that’s—”

Monokuma:  “Then let’s start the Voting Time!”

Hah, Monokuma sure does jump in quick. He’s afraid of Shuichi pointing out what’s really going on here and how real all their suffering is and making the audience realise that maybe they shouldn’t actually want this after all, isn’t he.

Shuichi halts them to ask what the “punishment” for this vote will be, because he’s already figured out what it is. If we’d been playing as him, we’d have seen plenty of inner monologue of him slowly realising this and piecing it together as Tsumugi rambled on and on. But since we’re not seeing inside his head right now, all Keebo has seen is Shuichi being almost completely quiet and then suddenly jumping in with a fully-formed theory explaining exactly what’s going on and why this vote is bad. Shuichi really does look like a hero from the outside.

Shuichi:  “That’s what Rantaro was talking about.”

…

Rantaro:  “You wanted this killing game, so you have to win no matter what. …No matter what.”

…

Shuichi:  “Something similar must have happened in the last killing game, and he was given a choice. He sacrificed himself… and was forced to participate again.”

See, Rantaro wasn’t the only survivor of his killing game. There were two actual survivors who got to escape into the outside world just like Shuichi and Himiko hypothetically would here. Rantaro just sacrificed himself to allow for that. (In my headcanon, those two survivors were both girls and kind of reminded Rantaro of his sisters and that’s why he chose to do that.) It’s still a stretch to think that Rantaro would ever have thought of that as “wanting” this killing game like his message said, though, so I still think that line was mostly there just to make chapter 4’s opening stinger mysterious.

But man, spare a thought for Rantaro’s two friends who survived and escaped, dreading to watch Rantaro go through this again while having forgotten about them, but watching anyway because they have to know what happens to him… and then seeing him be the very first one to die. That has to have been awful. I hope that when Shuichi, Maki and Himiko do escape, they find those two and every other pair of survivors from each past killing game and start some kind of big therapy group to deal with their trauma together and share stories of their lost friends and reassure themselves that they’re all still real.

Shuichi:  “Tsumugi will still be the mastermind, Keebo will still represent the viewers… and Maki will be the new Ultimate Survivor. The killing game will begin again.”

Even if Maki wouldn’t necessarily die in this outcome, the fact that she’d lose her memories of everything in this killing game and forget about Kaito and Shuichi and be reset back to the guarded, lonely, self-loathing assassin she was at the beginning would still be awful and unacceptable. Especially since Kaito was one-in-a-million and the next game probably wouldn’t have anyone willing to help her out of it again.

It’s a little odd to think that Tsumugi would still be the mastermind? I always assumed Tsumugi wasn’t the mastermind of Rantaro’s game, simply because if she then also masterminded this game as well, it’d ruin the mystery for the audience. Unless she usually cosplays as some made-up character and this is the first time she’s ever played as herself (or at least someone who looks like herself and superficially shares her nerdiness but is less terrible and murdery).

“Izuru”:  “Then it’s despair? You’re going to choose despair to end the killing game? …How boring.”

“Celeste”:  “But this is fine. Our audience loves despair, so this will please them too.”

Will it? I mean, maybe it would if it were actual despair, since there’s emotional investment you can get from that even if it’s nothing but painful emotions. But what’s actually going to happen with the “despair” outcome of this vote is simply Shuichi, Maki and Himiko (and apparently Tsumugi) continuing to live isolated, boring lives in the academy without any more killings. That’s not a despair ending, that’s a boredom ending. Precisely the kind of thing the audience shouldn’t want.

Keebo:  “Then… hope has to win this game, too. If we continue to win for hope, then this killing game will surely end someday!”

Keebo, dude. You’re going to continue doing the thing that Shuichi has just explained is exactly what causes more killing games to happen… and then you’re just going to hope that eventually they’ll stop happening anyway? You are not being very smart right now. If you’re going to hope for something to happen, you should also at least act in a way that might help make it come true, otherwise your hope is useless.

Shuichi:  “When Maki said she was going to sacrifice herself just now, I thought… Why? So many of our friends have sacrificed their lives. Why Maki? Why now? Why do we have to go through it again…? The sorrow of losing Kaede… and Kaito… Why do we have to feel that sadness over and over and over again…? Why do we have to bear that burden…?”

I love Shuichi here so much. I love that he’s realised what this means and that it’s cruel and unfair and wrong.

Shuichi:  “Well, I don’t care how much the audience wants it, I’m not gonna feel that way anymore! I don’t want anyone to feel that way anymore!”

I love that he’s realised that the audience wants this from him and how fucked-up that is! I love that he’s thinking that not just for himself, but for every hypothetical character in future seasons who’d ever have to go through this same pain if they don’t end this right here!

I just… really wish that that actually seemed like what the in-universe audience wanted at all. Some people were sad when Maki offered to sacrifice herself, but not a single person was thinking “oh man Shuichi’s going to be devastated to lose another best friend” and empathising with the pain Shuichi’s feeling here and enjoying doing so in that immersed, in-story way. Instead, they just immediately stopped seeing him as a person the moment he spoke out against them and their precious “hope”.

The thing is, I’m still enjoying Shuichi’s emotional pain here! Of course I am! Because I care about him and I’m empathising with him, and all of this is making me want him to succeed and get what he wants and never have to feel like this any more, even as I’m enjoying that he’s feeling this way right now.

And, see, while the in-universe audience are obviously inherently more twisted than an out-universe audience because the people they’re watching aren’t really fictional and they know this, that doesn’t have to automatically make them this kind of one-dimensional asshole who can’t even empathise with the characters or engage with this like it’s a meaningful story at all. Things could still have been made to work while having them basically respond to Shuichi and his story like those of us on the other side of the real fourth wall.

Enjoying actual genuine fiction requires suspension of disbelief, compartmentalising away and ignoring the knowledge that it’s all made-up, so that you can get invested and care about what happens. So in a similar way, it might be just about believable if we could be shown that this in-universe audience has instead been suspending their knowledge that it’s real, compartmentalising away and trying to ignore the fact that real people are suffering, so that they can still enjoy this and keep watching despite knowing that people – uhhh, characters, definitely not real people – are going to die. Then they could have been reacting to this approximately like a real person watching genuine fiction would (you know, with actual investment in and empathy for the characters), until Shuichi blows the lid off their wilful ignorance right here and forces them to confront their awfulness.

Shuichi:  “Even if this is fiction, even if we’re all fictional… The pain in my heart is real! The sadness I feel when I lose the people I love is real!”

I am so, so glad that he’s realised this! This is one of my favourite moments in this trial and completely restored all the faith first-time-me had lost during all the ridiculousness of last post. This is exactly what we need to be talking about and really should never have stopped talking about – the fact that of course they’re still real people regardless of how fake their memories were. They still really felt all that pain, and they still really meant everything they did for their friends, and they still really died, regardless of the “writers” that were sometimes pulling strings behind the scenes.

And I adore the way Shuichi calls them “the people I love”. He’s not talking about specifically romantic love here, because he doesn’t have to be. Of course he loved them anyway regardless of what kind of love it was; they were his friends and they gave him all of his strength and meant everything to him. If anyone tries to use this line as proof that Shuichi must have had romantic feelings for Kaito as well, they’re completely missing the point. Using the word “love” in a platonic sense will always melt my heart and it’s especially so in this context here.

Although, while Shuichi is using this pain of his to prove to himself that he’s still meaningfully real, I do wish there was a little bit of time spent on the realisation that, since they all must have felt the same way as him, his friends must have been real, too. Being deceived into thinking they were just lies was what caused Shuichi to fall into despair, and there’s no way he’d have been able to climb out of that despair and talk so passionately about losing his friends if he didn’t truly believe once again that their lives were worth exactly as much as a “real” person’s. He has definitely figured this out by now, but it’s kind of a shame he never directly mentions it.

Shuichi:  “I won’t forgive this game that treats us like toys. And if this is what the world wants… then I reject that world! I’ll fight the world that inflicts suffering for entertainment!”

Shuichi is being such a hero and Kaede and Kaito would be so proud to see him like this!

And it’s still inconceivable that seeing him like this isn’t what the audience wants. This is a far more inspiring and meaningful story than any of the nonsense Keebo has been spouting. They should be cheering Shuichi on, not Keebo – even if that means cheering Shuichi on against themselves.

“What are you saying, detective?”

“Forget about Shuichi.”

But nope. The audience doesn’t care about him. Now that he’s speaking out against them, they’d rather just drop him entirely.

“You’re in despair, right?”

“It’s okay to feel despair sometimes…”

Yes, clearly the only reason Shuichi is saying this is because he’s being controlled by that super-evil force known as “despair”, not because he’s right.

“C’mon, Keebo! Attack!”

“hurry up and refute it!”

“Force hope through!”

And of course, they just want Keebo to yell more words about hope at Shuichi, because doing that will totally change his mind and make him think inflicting suffering for entertainment is okay. Yelling emptily about hope can achieve anything, right?

“The big reveal, at last.”

Uhh, no? What does this person even think the “reveal” is supposed to be – the fact that these characters aren’t actually fictional and that watching them suffer for entertainment is fucked up? That’s not a reveal, that’s something that should have been apparent from the start but everyone has been wilfully ignoring. (And it’s something that everyone should now be forced to confront whether they like it or not, but apparently almost nobody is.)

“mmm… shuichi’s eyes ^q^”

This “fan” of Shuichi’s is still here. And they still don’t actually give a fuck about him and haven’t been paying attention to anything he’s been saying or feeling at all.

“Why have we been doing this…?”

You! You, right there, are the one sensible actual human being in this whole stupid audience! This is what everyone should be thinking right now – realising that Shuichi has a goddamn point and that this whole practice is vile and that if they actually care about any of these characters at all then they should want what Shuichi wants, which is to end all this and never have another killing game again!

“something’s different, right?”

“Are they blaming us?”

These ones are more ambiguous, but it is possible that these two people are also vaguely starting to realise that what they’re doing is not okay. Maybe.

Tsumugi:  “It doesn’t matter what you do. No matter what a fictional character does or says, it’s just fiction to the outside world.”

See… based on the audience’s current comments, it’s really seeming like this is actually true, in this world. Those three just now are the only comments during this part that give any sense of people actually listening to Shuichi’s words. The overwhelming majority are like the ones I quoted at the beginning, complaining about Shuichi’s outlook and wanting Keebo to “fix” things for them.

Shuichi:  “I… refuse to vote.”

Tsumugi:  “Refuse to vote…?”

Keebo:  “Monokuma said that if we don’t vote, we’ll be killed for breaking the rules!”

Shuichi:  “Yes, I know. That’s why I’m doing it.”

And here’s this rule which has been vaguely a thing in the background of all the Danganronpas but was pointedly highlighted at the beginning of almost every trial in this one, making it kind of obvious it’d somehow be important later on. It’s also quite relevant that Monokuma’s declarations of this rule always explicitly said that not voting would result in death, not just “punishment”, because it means Tsumugi can’t suddenly pull a loophole and pretend this still just means they get forced into another killing game.

(Although that’s only assuming that the audience still cares about her following the rules, which, ha fucking ha.)

Shuichi:  “If this ends without a single vote being cast for hope or despair… The audience would hate it. They’d never accept an ending like that… So I abstain! I refuse to give the outside world the ending it wants!”

I appreciate Shuichi’s determination and willingness to give his life to end this killing game for good and give a huge fuck-you to the audience… but honestly, it’s kind of flimsy that this would actually achieve that. It’s hard to believe that, over fifty-three seasons, there haven’t been a few kind-of-disappointing endings here and there (even accepting that this audience laps up meaningless buzzwordy hope-versus-despair nonsense like this). But surely the occasional boring ending would only make people shrug and hope the next season is better, and it’d take several in a row for them to finally think things will never get better and the show might as well just end.

Which, to be fair, might have been happening already if this season took longer than usual to come out and some people weren’t sure it ever would. But that apparent fact was buried in some obscure audience comments and wasn’t something Shuichi seemed to notice, so he shouldn’t be nearly so sure that this would work.

Plus, it shouldn’t only be about the ending – the rest of the story is a part of the story too. The other trials in this game have mostly been fantastic and there should be no way the audience wouldn’t want more of that kind of thing, no matter how disappointingly it ends!

…This should also still not actually be a disappointing ending at all, because look at what an amazing hero Shuichi’s managing to be! He’s willing to give his life to stop the real villain behind all this – not some meaningless concept of “despair”, but the people who actually wanted him and his friends to suffer! This is still something that it should be possible for the audience to accept makes a good story, despite the fact that they themselves are the villains in it.

Keebo:  (Hope… won’t end the killing game? If that’s true, then this feeling that I must win for hope is…)

Geez, Keebo, glad you’ve finally caught up with us. It really should not have taken you this long.

It’s pretty neat that the “lying” mechanic as used here with Keebo isn’t actually lying – hope is just a concept, it’s not even a fact that you can lie about. Instead, it’s representing Keebo finally choosing to ignore and go against what his inner voice is telling him to do. The only weapon he has is hope, but that doesn’t mean this is the only choice he has.

“What are you doing, Keebo?”

“Hurry up and side with hope.”

“COME BACK HOOOPE”

“it’s hope again, right?”

And of course, the majority of the audience is not happy about this. Really, though, Shuichi has already ruined their hope ending by pointing out that this “hope” is arbitrary and cruel, and no amount of empty yelling about hope from Keebo could change that now even if he did keep listening to them.

“show us maki roll!”

This single comment here is the closest anyone in the audience ever gets to even vaguely acknowledging Kaito’s existence, since they’re using the nickname he gave her. And the utter lack any other mention of Kaito from the audience is quite clearly another thing that is completely Unrealistic and Wrong. Kaito was the best, and a significant amount of the audience should have been invested enough in his story and his influence on Shuichi and Maki to still be occasionally mentioning him here.

“i wanna break Shuichi’s fingers <3”

I sincerely hope that when Shuichi gets out of here, he ends up absolutely nowhere near this person and they never figure out where he’s living. Geez. Go and re-examine your life, you sick creep.

Keebo:  “I may be a robot, but the thought of my friends dying still fills me with sadness. I don’t want anyone else to feel this way!”

You know, if they’d actually done anything at all with Keebo’s issues about being a robot, it could have worked pretty well in this trial. He’s always been struggling to fully understand the feelings of “real” humans, and so he should have also struggled to justify to himself that his own feelings matter even though they’re just being “simulated” by computer software. But he still feels it, so it still matters, robot or not. That’s exactly the kind of argument Shuichi had to make to himself to justify that he’s still real. Keebo could have been the perfect person (among those still with us) to help Shuichi and friends come to terms with the existential issues that this trial has given them! If only Keebo had had an actual proper character arc about accepting himself as just as much of a person despite being a robot, and also if only he’d ever been trying to give his friends actual hope during this whole deal. His character has so much wasted potential.

His protagonist status wears off here, which is an appropriate moment for it to do so. All he was ever meant to do as the audience’s protagonist was to keep the cycle going and keep more killing games happening, and now that he realises that, he doesn’t want to be their protagonist any more.

“gonna dismantle you, Keebo.”

Oh boy, here’s some foreshadowing to what they actually end up doing, because apparently none of them ever really cared about Keebo as a character or a person.

“WTF? You already killed each other?”

As if the fact that the murderers were all participants of the game makes everyone in the game a bad person and therefore it doesn’t matter if they suffer and die? As if most of the actual murderers were even bad people and not good people desperately trying to save everyone and/or being manipulated into it? Yeah, no, sure, this was all just a meaningless slaughterfest and so it’s totally okay for them to all continue to die.

“the questionnaires were pointless?”

I mean, it’s not like you guys ever affected Keebo’s actions in any meaningful way up until now anyway; I don’t know why you’re so disappointed.

“Shuichi has a point.”

Hello, sensible person! I don’t know if this is the same person as that one from before, but it’s nice to see at least a tiny, tiny fraction of the audience getting it. It really is such a tiny fraction, though – the vast majority of people are still just complaining about not getting what they wanted. And I’d like to just put this down to the fact that the people who are realising this are also nice enough to then stop watching and stay out of the comments section – but, no. The comments section is exactly where these people who’ve realised this should be, because they should be trying to persuade everyone else to agree with them and realise that this is fucked up and no longer want this!

Shuichi:  “New characters are created just to show the outside world a fictional hope. They get written into these killing games, forced to betray one another…”

I appreciate how Shuichi is describing them as being “created”, because it proves that he now understands that this is exactly what happens. This has nothing to do with the pregame assholes who auditioned and wanted this; they just donated their bodies. The characters who are actually in this killing game never wanted any of this, yet they were literally created to suffer. That is not fucking okay and Shuichi will not let it continue. No-one else will ever be created for that purpose. He and his friends are the last.

Shuichi:  “To end this killing game, and end it forever… We will reject Danganronpa!”

This whole speech here accompanies Shuichi’s protagonist status switching back on, and it has pretty nice dramatic effect. He’s being a hero!

Shuichi:  “Tsumugi… you were right. I’m weak. I’m weaker than anyone else… If I didn’t have my friends, I’d be useless. That’s true even now!”

It’s lovely that Shuichi is okay with this. He realises that this is the character Tsumugi wrote him to be… but that doesn’t mean that it’s not still who he is, and it doesn’t mean he’s not real.

But he’s still not giving himself enough credit at all. Yes, he’s only able to be strong when he has friends to rely on and inspire him, but all that potential strength is still right there inside him, ready to be brought out by the right people! All he needs is a little nudge in the right direction, from the right kind of heroes.

Shuichi:  “If Keebo and Maki didn’t stand up… I would have ended it all right then.”

It’s really sad to think what Shuichi probably means when he says “end it all”. Kind of like the way he once said that Kaito “saved his life”, without ever properly elaborating on what he meant by that.

But still, Shuichi – Keebo and Maki may have chosen to sacrifice themselves, but you’re the one who used the pain of that to realise that you’re still real and figure out what everything meant. They weren’t trying to encourage you to do that, or even to be strong at all, when they made their choice. That all came from you, and from your own strength that you’ve built up through Kaede and Kaito’s belief in you. You’re not as weak as you were at the beginning, not by a long shot!

Shuichi:  “But it’s because I’m weak and because I lost my way… that I finally realized. I finally realised how cruel this “hope” really is.”

It’s cruel because the best way to write a good story is to have characters that are weak and suffer like Shuichi has been. The most inspiring type of heroes who give people the most hope aren’t the ones who are perfect and invincible, but the ones who struggle and suffer and yet still manage to win in the end. Shuichi has realised, because of his own suffering and the fact that he’s managed to claw his way through it anyway, that this is the kind of thing the audience should want to see, because it gives them the hope that they can overcome their weaknesses and struggles in the same way. A storyline like Shuichi’s should be exactly what the audience wants and exactly why this has happened so many times to so many real people who didn’t deserve to suffer for this.

I say “should be”, because this isn’t even remotely what the in-universe audience actually wants to see at all. It’s honestly bizarre how obvious the divide is between what Shuichi is describing as a genuinely inspiring engaging fiction that should be the reason the audience keeps wanting this, and the one-dimensional idiocy that this nonsensical audience apparently wants instead. If the out-universe writers are able to write Shuichi talking about the audience wanting this kind of story, they should also be perfectly capable of writing the audience actually wanting it! This shouldn’t be difficult.

---

[Next post]

[pointedly-foolish]

[ stíckч fíngєrs ]

word count: 1090

pairing: connor | rk800/oc

genre: gen

summary: « oh wait, where's...? the detective exclaimed as they rummaged through their bag. i must've-- sorry i really need to... they trailed off. wait here. »

the android simply nodded as he watched the figure scurry away to some part of the precinct.

in the meantime, he found a few things to distract himself with: rhythmically tapping the desk, fidgeting with his coin... he glanced up at the decorated desk and saw a prompt: [ X | ᴱˣᴬᴹᴵᴺᴱ ᴰᴱˢᴷ ] should he...?

a/n: trying to unblock myself and start writing again... so i decided to write some oc x canon stuff as tiny exercise... kinda funny thing that i wrote to also flesh out my oc in a way,,,? ya boi fell in a hole of oc x canon that he thought he would avoid for the longest of times lmao,,, one (1) android controls my life end me,,, in case you do decide to read this, tiny pointers to not be confused: - in this au connor, 60, and rk900 are deviant and work at the DPD. since they're considered rookies (only started officially working as a detective for about a month) they're assigned partners; connor with hank, conan (rk900) with gavin, colin (60) with my oc esmé. - this ficlet mentions my friend's (@miusmius​) oc, Ona Boix, who is also a detective at the DPD (i included her in the artwork, and by default in this work)... i don't own her, she doesn't belong to me... mius dont sue me pls

the drawing was made cuz i wanted to do a challenge where i draw a bunch of different ppl lol

i think that's about it? hope you enjoy this silly thing.

{ [ X | ᴱˣᴬᴹᴵᴺᴱ ᴰᴱˢᴷ ] }

the desk itself is relatively neat, sheaf of paper stacked together and tucked away neatly on one side of the table. other personable belongings such as potted plants, picture frames, and a small owl statuette are organised meticulously. office supplies are placed in cups and holders, not a single item out of place. upon closer inspection, however, the android noticed one item that was not like the other: unnoticeable at first, there was a black pen amidst the others that resembled his… the fountain pen he lost a few days ago.

[ ａｎａｌｙｓｉｎｇ... ] [ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵˢ ᶜᴼᴹᴾᴸᴱᵀᴱ: ᴸᴬᴹᵞ 2000 ᶠᴼᵁᴺᵀᴬᴵᴺ ᴾᴱᴺ, ᴾᴿᴼᴰᵁᶜᵀ ᶜᴼᴰᴱ ᴸᴹᵞ-ᴸ01ᴱᶠ ]

he pushed aside the rest of the result, ignoring the trivial information such as material (black polycarbonate—makrolon and stainless steel), and swiped the pen up, inspecting the pen’s body. on it was a delicately etched “connor anderson”, coining it as his pen; the one that was gifted to him. stuffing it into his pocket, he now realised how much of the detective’s belongings weren’t actually theirs: hank’s music player, det. collins’ notepad, and headphones he swore he last saw with officer chen. baffled at how no one has noticed yet, he collected said items to be returned after. though most of the stolen goods are of little value and easily replaceable, he settled to discuss the detective’s kleptomaniac tendencies with them soon.

continuing his inspection, he noted the multiple flyers and notes that adorned the detective’s magnetic board: small notices and stickers from past concert—panic! at the disco (which he found out was a well known alternative rock artist who managed to keep his career afloat even after the popularisation of android bands) and others, both popular and indie, of differing languages.

a small timetable and calendar marked a few important dates, circled and annotated accordingly. a small to-do list is taped near it, date at the top right corner. most of the writing is smudged—[ ᴿᵁᴺᴺᵞ ᶠᴼᵁᴺᵀᴬᴵᴺ ᴾᴱᴺ? ˢᴹᵁᴰᴳᴱᴰ ᴾᴱᴺᶜᴵᴸ? ] – “buy food for paris after work” it seemed odd that the detective still took on-paper reminders when a digital alternative was available, not to mention broadcasting them in full view. – “concert Jules     8:30 pm [sic.]” but perhaps they simply preferred the act of physically writing them down, or leaving behind a trace of their last location in the off chance that something happened… who was this “jules”? he decided not to look the person up, though curiosity was tempting. he resisted the urge (that his non-deviant self would have complied to immediately) if not to give the detective their privacy. he trusted them enough to know that they’d tell him about this individual if they need to.

on the top left corner of the board was a sticky note that wasn’t quite like the others: instead of the neat, smooth lines that was characteristic of their handwriting, this one was a messy scrawl that made it almost illegible—detective reed’s handwriting. under it was a smaller sticky note, belonging to the desk’s owner, which read “asshole”. « succinctly put » the android thought with a small smile of amusement.

the final object, which was a more recent addition to the heavily decorated board was a photograph of a recent birthday “party”, which was more of a potluck to be quite honest. his smile remained, and one may even note that it has become marginally brighter as his features softened. a photograph annotated with the raven haired detective’s commentary (entire precinct made up of loose canons—which wasn’t exactly wrong in his mind), which showcased the coworkers being together and celebrating hank’s birthday (while det. reed sulks on a kitchen counter, frustrated. the android chuckled at the annotations, “trash” is right.).

he scanned through each individual: his “brothers”, colin and conan—taken aback slightly at the fact that the three were called fucko 1-through-3; det. boix and officer chen (titled queens—fittingly as both were incredible at their work, though he sometimes wonder why officer chen still hasn’t been promoted yet…); the man he considers his father—lt. hank anderson—“world’s okayest dad” seeming like an understatement (though he’s quite sure it’s joke shared among the detective and the lieutenant); the two canines—sumo (the best saint bernard there ever was) and paris (the best german shepherd there ever was), and finally the desk’s owner themselves: det. esmé thomas, the person he’s waiting for right now. the picture was a slightly candid one (he didn’t recall being informed that they were going to have their picture taken), but he felt a sense of peace in seeing the group’s genuine joy being captured. it was nice to see them enjoying each other’s presence (some had a harder time showing it, though reed was slowly coming around) after the chaos a few months ago.

« hey, i’m back! sorry for making you wait... we can go now, suggested a voice from his far right. he turned his head to face its source before nodding. – alright. »

unlike hank, esmé preferred to drive in complete silence, the only sounds audible were the traffic outside and the thrumming of the car engine. after a few moments, the detective restarted the conversation: « did you have fun snooping around my desk? they asked playfully. – i was merely inspecting it… i noticed it had a new picture on it, he answered truthfully. – yup, they smirked, you like it? it was from last weekend. – it was certainly amusing, what with the flavour text. – ah, i was hoping you’d say that fucko #1, they chuckled. – so we’re a precinct filled with loose canons? he pushed playfully, rolling his eyes. – i don’t see you disagreeing, they replied, glancing briefly at the android. – touché. »

a moment of silence passed as the conversation died once more, the quietness accompanying them in their drive. but it was fine. it was a comfortable silence as they waited to reach their destination. a question was, however, on the tip of the android’s tongue for what would’ve been the entire ride so far, so he decided to ask them: « i’ve been meaning to ask you… he started. the driver made a « hmm? » to inform the passenger that they were listening. – but why are you wearing detective reed’s sunglasses? he pointed at the accessory on the detective’s shirt collar. »

the question goes unanswered and the android gives up on the thought of ever getting a reply, when the person besides him answered determinedly, not a hint of shame in their voice as they admitted the theft: « it was shiny and i wanted it. »

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