#I never thought I'd be in a situation like this

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 8

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , -

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The next day, the headlines dominated the news:

"The Barnes Brothers' Hidden Scandal Exposed"

"Shawn Barnes: The Untouchable Elite Dodging Justice"

"Political Candidate’s Family Ties to Corruption Unveiled"

At the campaign headquarters, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The usual hum of activity was replaced by silence, only broken by the sound of phones ringing off the hook.

Steve stood near the table, crumpling a newspaper in his hands, frustration written all over his face. Bucky stood by the window, his posture rigid as he stared out into the distance, lost in thought.

Steve let out a heavy sigh, massaging his temples. "I didn’t expect they’d bring up Shawn at the debate."

Bucky turned slightly, his voice calm but carrying an edge. "You know Brock. He always hits below the belt, always makes it personal."

Steve glanced out at the campaign team, who were scrambling. The room beyond was a flurry of chaos: phones ringing non-stop, staff members anxiously typing responses, pacing as they fielded questions from the press, all trying to extinguish the flames of the scandal. Steve ran a hand through his hair as he watched, feeling the weight of the situation.

"The numbers are tanking," Steve muttered, his face grim. "After this, the public’s furious. Voters won’t back a candidate whose family used connections to dodge the law."

Bucky’s jaw tightened as Steve continued, "People hate it when those with power think they’re above punishment. That’s the real damage here. It’s not just about Shawn—it’s about what it represents."

The trend #CatchShawnBarnes was everywhere, climbing to the top spot on social media. The timing couldn’t have been worse. The firestorm had erupted, fueled by rumors and bots likely hired by Brock and Edgar’s teams, intensifying the outrage.

Bucky broke the silence with a quiet, "I’m sorry."

Steve looked at him, shaking his head. "Don’t be. This isn’t on you, Buck." His tone softened. "Besides, it’s not your fault."

Steve had known the Barnes family long enough to understand the full story. Shawn, the eldest son, always had an ego, fed by the wealth and privilege of his upbringing. With everything handed to him, he acted like the world owed him, seeing himself as untouchable.

In truth, it was Shawn who was supposed to enter politics. But unlike Bucky, he lacked the charisma and leadership qualities. Caroline, their mother, had long since given up hope on her eldest son, who had failed to live up to expectations.

Back then, Bucky had been a quiet presence, almost invisible in his own home. Caroline had never even heard his voice much, even though they lived under the same roof. But everything changed when Bucky entered law school. There, he shone.

He joined clubs, became student president, volunteered, organized demonstrations, and eventually graduated as valedictorian. Every trait of a leader was there, clear for everyone to see—especially Caroline. She shifted her attention to Bucky, molding him into the perfect candidate, ensuring he stayed on the path to success.

Shawn, once the golden child, watched as the spotlight shifted to his younger brother. The attention, the purpose he had once enjoyed, slipped away. He felt lost, purposeless. That’s when the spiral began. The drugs were his escape, his way of coping with the emptiness.

At first, it was subtle. But soon, it became public knowledge—Shawn Barnes was a cocaine addict. In an attempt to save face, Caroline and Julius sent him to rehab. But the real disaster struck when Shawn escaped, driving under the influence. That’s when the accident happened—the night he hit someone with his car.

Steve didn’t know the full details after that. What he did know was that Shawn had paid bail and was sent to another rehab, the entire incident hushed up. The Barnes family had buried the scandal deep, hoping it would never see the light of day.

But as Steve thought to himself, no matter how deep you bury something, eventually the stench of rot seeps through.

"I’ll fix this," Bucky said, his voice low but determined.

Steve raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "How, exactly?"

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The Barnes household felt colder than ever, the tension suffocating the room. Shawn sat in the corner, hunched over, hugging his knees. His fingernails were chewed down to the skin, his pale face etched with panic.

"Shit... shit..." he muttered under his breath, eyes darting around the room like a caged animal.

Across the room, Caroline and Julius were in a quiet panic. Caroline paced, wringing her hands, her face pale with fear. Julius stood by the window, his jaw clenched, staring out as if searching for answers that weren’t there.

You sat on the sofa, watching the unfolding chaos like a distant spectator. It was almost theatrical—the Barnes family, once so composed, unraveling before your eyes.

Just then, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Bucky walking in. His face was a mask of determination, his eyes dark and unreadable.

You rose from the sofa and approached him. Before you could speak, he cut you off with a low, firm voice. “I want you to stay out of sight. Away from the windows.”

You frowned but nodded, sensing the weight of his words. He brushed past you without another glance and made his way toward Shawn.

Shawn looked up at Bucky, his eyes wide and filled with fear. He seemed so small in front of his younger brother, almost shrinking under the weight of Bucky’s presence.

“Get up,” Bucky ordered, his voice hard. Without waiting for a response, he reached down and pulled Shawn to his feet.

Shawn stumbled but didn’t resist. He followed Bucky like a lost child.

“Where are you taking him?” Caroline’s voice trembled as she rushed forward to stop them, but Bucky didn’t break stride.

“What he should’ve done years ago,” Bucky answered coldly, dragging Shawn along.

Caroline hurried after them, her heels clicking against the floor. “Bucky, wait! What do you mean?”

Bucky led them outside, the sound of the door swinging open making Caroline stop in her tracks. She froze as her eyes widened in shock. There, right outside their home, were TV station cameras, police cars, and flashing lights.

Caroline’s heart pounded in her chest. “Bucky,” she hissed, her voice sharp with disbelief. “How could you do this? This is a public execution! You’re putting a guillotine to your own brother!”

Julius stepped forward, his voice tired but stern. “Son, is this really the only way?”

Bucky turned briefly to look at his parents, his expression cold. “We have to set an example.”

Caroline’s face twisted in fear, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Bucky, please... don’t do this.”

Before Bucky could respond, Shawn’s voice rang out, shaky but clear. “Stop!” he shouted.

Caroline flinched, her eyes locking with Shawn’s. His face was pale, but his eyes, for the first time in years, looked determined.

“Mother,” Shawn said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been free from jail, but there’s been a shackle on me ever since. Guilt has haunted me every day. I’ve been hiding, running, pretending it didn’t happen. But it did. And I need to face it.”

Bucky gave his brother a nod, and Shawn took a shaky breath before turning to him. “Let’s go.”

They walked toward the press together. Cameras flashed as Bucky led Shawn to the bouquet of microphones, the press shouting questions over one another. Shawn took a deep breath and stepped forward. His hands trembled as he gripped the podium.

“I made a mistake,” Shawn began, his voice cracking. “I was reckless... I hurt someone. I ran from it, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry—for what I did and for hiding it for so long.”

As the words left his mouth, you could see the weight of guilt lifting from his shoulders, though his face remained heavy with regret. He glanced at Bucky, who stood beside him, stoic but supportive. Bucky knew how much the accident haunted Shawn, how it had eaten him alive from the inside out.

After Shawn finished his confession, he stepped away from the podium and voluntarily walked toward the waiting police car. The press erupted with questions aimed at Bucky. One reporter shouted above the rest, “Why did you expose your own brother like this?”

Bucky met the reporter’s gaze, his voice steady and firm. “Because no one is above the law.”

As Shawn was driven away, Caroline stood frozen in the doorway, her face a mask of fury. She didn’t want to look at Bucky, not now, not after what he’d done. Julius said nothing, too exhausted to protest or intervene.

Once the commotion had died down, you walked up to Bucky, your voice low. “You don’t feel guilty? Sacrificing your own brother like that?”

Bucky leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "I'll do anything to get that position. It’s all for you too, babe." His voice was low, dangerous, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, the intensity in his gaze as his lips hovered just inches from your skin. The closeness sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something intoxicating in the way he said it, like a promise that left you both thrilled and unnerved.

You met his gaze, your pulse racing. "You’re crazy," you muttered, though the words felt weaker than you intended.

Without another word, you pulled away, leaving him standing there, the charge of the moment lingering long after you had gone.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next day you returned to the campaign headquarters, where the atmosphere was thick with tension.

So much had happened in the past 48 hours. The campaign team buzzed with a frenetic energy, fueled by the fallout from Shawn’s confession. Despite the chaos, there was a flicker of optimism; his admission had managed to regain some trust from the voters.

Yet, you could sense the undercurrent of anxiety. Everyone was on edge, aware that the storm wasn't over. Phone calls rang out, strategy meetings were called, and you could see the weight of the situation pressing down on each team member's shoulders. You felt a mix of relief and dread—relief that there was hope, but dread about what might come next.

Your brother, Tim was still focused and serious as he poured over the reports, his usual calm replaced by a quiet intensity. You watched him for a moment, feeling a strange pang of guilt in your chest. But you couldn’t linger on that.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

The streets were busy, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the chaos of everything that had happened. The scandal, the press, Bucky. It felt like everything was unraveling. The nearest café was only a block away, and you pushed through the door, grateful for the brief respite.

That’s when you saw him.

Ian.

He was leaning casually against the counter, a cup of coffee in hand, but the moment he spotted you, something changed in his expression. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it was far from friendly.

You froze in place, staring at him for a beat too long. “Are you spying on us?” you asked, your voice low but sharp as you crossed your arms, trying to keep your emotions in check.

Ian's smirk widened as if he’d been waiting for this. “Isn’t it obvious?” he replied, his tone almost teasing but dripping with bitterness. “I work with the other side now.”

You felt a surge of frustration, but more than that, something inside you twisted—an old wound reopening. You took a step closer, your eyes narrowing.

“We’ve worked together, Ian. We’ve seen injustice and unfairness in the world. But this…” You hesitated, searching his face for any trace of the person you used to know. “This feels personal.”

Ian’s smile faded, replaced by something darker. He snapped his fingers, and in an instant, everyone in the café left, leaving just the two of you inside.

You were taken aback, a chill running down your spine as the door swung shut behind the last customer.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You got that right,” he said, his eyes burning with something deep and unresolved.

“The person who died in that car accident? The one your dear Bucky’s brother killed? That was my twin brother.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the world around you narrowing to just Ian and the heavy weight of his words. “Your twin…” you whispered, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut.

Ian’s expression hardened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Yeah. My twin brother. Both of us were put up for adoption. I didn’t even know he existed until I was fourteen years old.”

He turned his gaze away from you, the memories clearly painful, but he didn’t stop. “I was adopted by a British couple. Grew up thinking I was an only child. It wasn’t until I did some digging into my adoption records that I found out about him. My twin.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as you listened, unable to speak. Ian’s voice was tight with emotion, but he pressed on.

“I was so damn happy when I found him. We bonded right away, as if we’d never been apart.” His voice softened, but the pain was unmistakable.

“We stayed in touch. Became close. We had so much to catch up on, and it was like I finally had someone who understood me in a way no one else could.”

He shook his head, his jaw clenching. “But then…” He looked back at you, his eyes blazing with anger. “Then Shawn Barnes took him away from me. He killed him. And your husband family covered it all up.”

You flinched at the venom in his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You had no idea. You hadn’t known the full story, and now it was staring you in the face.

Ian stepped even closer, invading your space, his eyes searching yours for something—maybe regret, maybe guilt. “They buried it. Buried him. And now you’re standing by their side, supporting the man whose family let my brother’s killer walk free.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You felt frozen, torn between your loyalty to Bucky and the weight of Ian’s grief and anger.

You knew about the cover-up involving Shawn, but who were you to uncover the truth, especially knowing it would be futile to fight against Caroline?

Now, guilt washed over you for having ignored this. It turned out the victim was closer than you had ever realized.

Ian’s voice softened, but the intensity didn’t fade. “Tell me,” he said, his gaze piercing into you. “After all of this… after everything you know… do you still trust him?”

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[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART THREE

This is a longer part than the rest, but its all necessary dialogue so it should be fine. More fluffy and romance than smut, BUT!! Their will be smut in the next section! I know I said this will only be 4 parts, but it may actually be more like 5 or 6. Anyway, hope you like!

So. You were starting to learn that using large batches of magic back to back weren't ideal for a young witch's health. It seemed like you might have overdone it, as when you woke you found you had been asleep for TWO WHOLE DAYS. So. If you were going to do magic, it looked like you were going to have to pace yourself, or perhaps use LESS magic.

You put yourself to learning more about witchcraft. The thing was, your grandmother's books didn't really go into the basics, and as witches were so rare, information was hard to find. Of course, the internet was full of supposed witch spells, or frameworks, but it was like throwing dice. Some spells didn't work. Some spells took up WAY too much energy. Some were just… fine? But not what you needed. 

Next you checked out forum sites. Maybe you could find a community through that way? But all you found were psychics and tarot readers. Nice people, but not what you needed.

Whelp. Maybe you needed to look at the issue differently. The environment used to be a beautiful, thriving area. What had changed between now and then? In order to understand a magic ecosystem, you had to understand ecosystems. So, for the rest of the week you busied yourself with ecology study. It was turning out that this project you had adopted on a whim would need a lot more time and breadth of knowledge then you originally thought.

***

When you met with Rena, under Lyith’s friendly gaze, you found that the magic you had cast hadn't waned at all. The flowers had grown beautifully and continued to give magic nectar that created the best honey. Rena was beside herself. “The elders of the hive say they haven't had honey of this quality since they were children! You are really onto something here, little one.”

Rena had now gotten in the habit of calling you little one. Sure, as a Bee-man she was slightly taller than you, but not by much. Also the constant fluttering and floating didn't help. 

“You've been given permission to test your magic on our other gardens as well. As long as we are careful and continue with caution!” Rena babbled. You gave her a small smile and felt Lyiths arm on your shoulder. He laid his head on your other shoulder, leaning his fuzzy head against yours. 

“Whats wrong?”

You wiggled a little. “I'm just having a hard time brainstorming how to do this. I know I said I'd help you guys, but I might not be able to use as much magic as last time. To be honest, I don't really know much about my mana and my limits…” you explained your situation. Expecting there to be disappointment, you were surprised to find none.

“I can’t help but think… How long will this last? One spell isn’t going to cut it for that long. I want to create something that will last for you guys, but that might take a while… and doing just this took all the mana I had. I want to do better. But I don’t want to hurt myself either, especially when I don’t know how this could affect my health in the long run…” The bee-men seemed to be catching on.

“Of course, little one. We wouldn't want you to harm yourself.”

 Lyith also popped up, his voice almost in your ear.

“Us Bee-men also have something like mana. Our magic is not never ending. We would have fixed this situation ourselves if it was.”

Rena reached forward and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring pat. “We don't have to do anything today. We can commence whenever you'd like. Our flowers have spread out beautifully and even this is enough.”

You frowned.

“I may have to do this every spring. Or even redo it in the summer…”

“You don’t owe us anything. You are trying your best to do us a kindness. And our hive knows and sees that. We are beyond grateful to you… Its… We’ve needed…We are truly grateful.” His expression fell at the mention of his hive, his antennas drooping. Rena moved forward and held Lyith, a sad expression on her own face.

There was a pause in conversation that grew somewhat awkward.

How do I make this better? You tried to brainstorm, but only one thing came to mind. 

You went over and gave the both of them a big bear hug. It was a tense one, but you tried to adjust your emotions, instead concentrating on how fond you had grown of the two. You tried to shout it as loud as you could through your brain at them.

This seemed to break the spell, as Rena started to laugh. Lyith looked at you affectionately. 

“I know we haven't known each other long, but I just want to say, you can count on me. If you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I'll listen.”

Rena and Lyith hummed in response, returning your group hug with a long squeeze.

Long hugs. The favorite actions of a Bee-men.

After some quiet reassurances, the two of you decided to idle while the two foraged on the edge of the Wood. You walked with them and asked them as many questions you could think of. How old were they? Were they able to do other magics? You had thought Bee-men to be isolated. How come they knew so much about human culture?

Lyith was the one who answered you most of the time. It seemed that bee-man typically lived double the life of a human, with Rena and Lyith being about 45, and 51, Lyith being the oldest. They were in the same season of life as you though!

Bee-man could do some other magics(they didn't go much into what), but they specialized in making their magical honey, which fortified the health and wellbeing of a Bee-men. 

They didn’t say it outright but it seemed like the dip in magic had affected the nutrition of their food source. They kept their own bees and shared honey, but it still wasn't enough, so they had ventured out into human society to buy fruit when it was necessary. They also did trade with neighboring beast-men, the Wolfmen being happy to share their fruit for their Bee’s wax waste. I 

“What exactly do you guys do for fun though?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Lyith smiled. “Late night flying is fun.”

Rena snorted. “You mean late night spying. Lyith has a habit of looking through people's windows.”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at Rena. “If they did not want to be seen they would have drawn the curtains. It's not strange, I am just curious about human life is all.”

Rena reached forward and pinched Lyiths nose. “Poor thing. So bored he must make mischief.”

You looked at Lyith with surprise. His big eyes grew in concern and he pouted at you.

“You are not going to tease me too are you? I promise, I never see anything scandalous. I'm a good little bee.” He fluttered his eyes at you.

You giggled and pushed his shoulder. 

“As long as you're not spying on me I guess it's harmless.”

Lyiths expression shifted to one of his dopey smiles. It always surprised you how innocent he could look despite his size. Was it maybe…

“So… I may have read that you guys are telepathic right?” 

Renas face changed into a smirk. 

“Yes, and?”

“ Well, have you guys ever… used your powers on me?” 

Rena snorted. Lyith gave you an unreadable expression. “We Bee-man are very particular about sharing our heads outside of our hives. But no. We haven't done anything to you if that's what you meant…”

Oh. He was pouting now.

“No! Thats not what I meant! I just… i feel so comfortable around you guys it's almost supernatural. I just. Idk. Wanted to know. Please I didn't mean anything by it!”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at you and Rena continued to seem amused. You felt helpless and got a bit upset with yourself. You did your best to calm yourself down but you were upset. You had so few friends here and you were afraid you blew it. A wave of loneliness swept through you.

Lyith was watching you the whole time, before sighing. “All will be forgiven if you give us some of those fruit tarts you made yesterday.”

You looked at him, shocked. 

“I thought you said you didn't spy on me!”

“I wasn't spying, I just happened to be foraging by the window, and smelled something amazing. It was all incidental.”

“There's sugar in the crust. Won’t your tummy get upset?”

He just smiled. Rena laughed. “He named his price. For offending us, we must get fruit tarts.”

Finally feeling better, the three of you walked(they let you walk!!!) Back to your home. You served them up your tarts, when finally the questions started coming about you. Why did you move here? Do you have any siblings? What were you like as a child?

This went on until dinner time, at which point you decided to shoo your new friends away. “ I'll be back to do the flowers tomorrow. We… we will see what I can do.” You admitted. The two of them smiled at you, hugging you tight for a good three minutes. They always lingered, nuzzling your face and hair, as if they were getting a whiff of you. You could smell their own perfume and tried not to think too much. Their goodbyes always felt so intimate. 

 Rena decided to pepper your face in kisses before they left. Lyith just rolled his eyes at her. When they drew apart you felt empty, like some piece of you was going with them.

***

As always, Lyith picked you up that morning. This time, you made sure to bring a scarf and hat, alongside emergency snacks in your bag. Where he was taking you next was a little longer of a trip, a whole ten minutes to the usual six. That was a long time when you were hurtling through the air.

You were surprised to drop into a small crowd. There were ten Bee-men present besides Rena, who seemed to be communicating silently with them. The air was full of bee noises; humming, purring, the fluttering of wings. The air smelled amazingly fresh, floral and syrupy. It was an odd smell, but it seemed to put you at ease somehow. And maybe a bit peckish.

A Beeman a whole foot and a half taller then Rena fluttered towards you. They bowed, of which you awkwardly returned before they reached forward and took your hand gently. Lyith started,

“This is Elder Bisou. He is the eldest of our hive. He is showing you respect.”

Elder Bisou smiled at you. “Little Witch, I welcome you to our territory. My human is a bit… unused. Please receive our thanks for your efforts.” He took your hand and leaned down so that it met his temple. You could feel the rush of his magic, like your mind was a fish bowl and he was putting a gentle hand on the glass. You could feel his warmth, his deep gratitude through it. 

Your back straightened and you felt water prick your eyelids. You gave him a slow nod, becoming acutely aware just how serious this whole situation actually was. Rena and Lyith had been dancing around it, but the Bee-men must be slowly starving to death. That was the only explanation for the depths of what you had felt.

“I will do my best.” Was all you could reply. 

Lyith, acting as your translator, took you to each Bee-men he could and introduced you. It seemed that some of the elders, as well as some of those who had free time had come to watch the “little witch” work. Most took your hand gently, and sent you a ghost of what their emotions were. There was a sort of film around the emotions, a barrier of sorts. Whether this was on purpose so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed, or just how their telepathy worked, you couldn't tell. 

You did your best to not let your nerves get to you as you dissected the sections of the field where you would be doing your experiments. You didn’t know how these particular flowers would take to your spell, so it was still best to be cautious. The bee-men looked on with interest.

You did your chants in a loud booming fashion, and channeled in as elegant a fashion as you could. Like always, the magic came, and the spell did its work. These flowers were different, like rainbow colored lavender. Rather than letting the magic gush through you, you let it gently trickle out, pacing yourself. When the deeds were done, you still felt sore, and you still held a headache in your temple, but there was no nausea, so growth! 

Once you were done with your work, there was a large excited buzzing throughout the forest. There was clapping, dancing, stomping of feet, pumping of many hands, whoops from Rena and Lyith. One Bee, a worker named Aidenn held a small wooden instrument in his hands and started to play. This triggered a chorus from the Bee-men. There was a harmonizing among the crowd and they started to circle each other, laughing and dancing. A circle of flying, spinning Bee-men formed.

Rena grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto her shoulder before joining in the circle of the dance. You giggled as you spun, feeling the giddiness in the air like it was laughing gas. That same pressure filled your mind and a part of your heart started to soar. It was intimate, but not stifling and you loved feeling so close to everyone.

You lifted your hands and, feeling in the spirit, decided to hum along. At some point Rena had taken you in her arms and held you close as they continued to fly in a circle, spinning and perrying, and switching. It was similar to square dancing, where there was a pattern to it. 

At one point, the tune changed and Lyith swooped down from above and grabbed you out of Rena’s arms. She snorted at him but let it happen, joining hands with another passing Bee-men. When Lyith gathered you in his arms, he cradled you as close as possible, surprising you. One hand was gripping firmly around your waist and the other crushing you to him. He landed on the ground, and the rest of the bee-men followed, causing something of a ballroom dance. 

“You did wonderfully today.” He breathed in your ear, causing them to redden. You pulled yourself back a bit to see his face and he was looking at you with such pride and affection it felt like a weight crushing your chest. You moved your hands from his shoulders to reach his own hands. You were shaky, but you wanted to return his feelings somehow. His palms were soft.

This caused him to laugh, a purring sort of trill coming from his throat. You couldn’t help a silly grin form on your face.

“I’m glad you came to my garden.” Was all you could think to say.

He looked at you, with those big black eyes, then reached forward and kissed you on the lips. It was only a peck, but you could feel his joy through it. 

Something complex within you, a mix of happiness, excitement, hope, all of your feelings rose up into your throat. Unable to find the words to express yourself, you took all of those big heavy emotions, wrapped them all up together and kissed him back, right there, in the middle of your makeshift dance floor.

When you pulled away Lyith looked shocked, his bottom lip hanging open. Adorable as usual. 

Rena hollered from the otherside of the gathering, sending out a big whoop. There was laughter, buzzing and an echoing whoop from some of the younger bee-men. Elder Bisou made some clicking sounds, but the sides of his mouth were slightly upturned.

It occurred to you then that you were in the middle of a group of very telepathic monster people. Your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment and you pulled away from Lyith a bit. Your shoes suddenly became very interesting. 

Lyith eventually turned your chin back up to face him. He held a small peaceful smile, before bumping his forehead to yours. He didn’t share his emotions but the affection was still there.

After you grew too tired to dance, you took a seat under a tree, munching on a granola bar. Another one of the Bee-men, a younger drone named Haven, made his way to sit next to you.

“I don’t know if it was mentioned, but honey production has picked up enormously since you agreed to help us. I haven’t felt this great in… well ever! Thank you little witch!”

“I’m not little, but thank you for saying so.” You were starting to get a bit lightheaded now, and not from the dancing. It was possible that some of the symptoms of mana sickness were surfacing a little late.

“You are strong! That is true! Even elder Bisou has said he hasn’t met a human or beastman with mana like yours!” Haven turned his voice down to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret, “Your magic smells so much like flowers, really, its a huge blessing! In fact, I would eat you up if I could!” He laughed as if he had made a joke. He sighed and looked up dreamily at the sky. “Alas, I am saving myself for when we find our queen.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to fend off imaginary suitors.

You wrinkled your nose. “Queen? You don’t have a queen? Isn’t that super bad for bees, I mean bee-men?” 

Heaven tilted his head at you, reminding you of Lyith. 

“Of course. That's why we are all so small and weak.” You stared at him in shock. He put up his hands. “We are doing well though! It's been 20 years since our queen died but we are still here! Oh! There is a hive up north! Any day now, one of their queens' daughters might descend and bless us! Or.. Or we--”

“Little One! You seem like you're getting sick!” Rena Descended from above and put a hand to your forehead.

“You are far too warm! Haven, mind if I take her out of your wings?”

Heaven looked up at Rena, his face a mask of confusion. He eventually gave in though and stood up.

“I should check on Elder Bisou! He might need something!” His voice was flat, obviously fake, but he ran away- flew away with gusto.

Rena took your face into her hands, tilting your head back and forth. Your lightheadedness turned full on dizzy. Rena’s face screwed up in an annoyed expression.

“You overdid it. And after that whole speech about not knowing your limits too..” She gently put a hand on your back and picked you up princess style. You would have been embarrassed, if your brain was functioning properly. Instead your gaze fixed on Rena’s beautiful iridescent wings. The lights were so lovely and they helped ground you. Honestly, everything about Rena was lovely. Well, maybe lovely wasn’t the right word. She was rough around the edges. A tease and a know it all. But she doted on you so, it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Your gaze shifted from her wings to her lovely nose, pretty sharp for a bee-men. 

Rena started conversing with Lyith about you, pointing her jaw and humming. Huh. Rena was actually incredibly attractive. You had known that before. Maybe it was something about how dizzy everything was. The last time you had felt this way she had been kissing you, her textured tongue pushing nectar down your thoat-

“Little One”

Your mind immediately focused. She was using a demanding tone. 

“Lyith will take you home. Next time, we will only do one spell at a time.” She leaned forward and placed her cool lips to the side of your mouth. Making you blush. Well your face was already heated so you would have blushed. “I will see you again soon. Rest.” And she was off.

You were in Lyith’s arms again. A place you were starting to get comfortable in. He stared at you for a moment, his lips pursed, then sighed loudly. He held your gaze for a moment.

“I do not like this habit you are forming. You will not get sick again, understand?” 

You nodded at him, mind hazy. Sleepy. You were sleepy. 

You didn’t register the fly home, only that the coolness felt nice. You were carried from the porch, into the living room, up the stairs, and laid on your bed. You were covered in warm, delicious blankets. 

You never saw Lyith leave before you passed out. Probably because he tucked himself in right beside you, the cool air washing over both of you from the open bedroom window.

[just-a-itty-bitty-kitty]

Thinking about how the Narrator doesn't really know if the world stays saved when we die, and yet in some cases He tries to reassure/console us during our 'last moments'.

"You've paid a terrible price, but you've saved us all." He doesn't know that. Maybe He's just trying to describe it into existence, hoping that if you die with the thought, it'll become true? But in other times, He's sure that our death means doom for whatever world we've left behind. "The world doesn't stay saved if you die." Then why tell us that we've saved it?

I also think it's interesting how emotional Narrator gets by the end of each chapter 1. He treats us differently based on our actions and how we approach the situation.

If we try and save the Princess, he purposely makes our death as long and painful as he possibly can, presumably, out of pure spite. "It is agony. But you aren't dead yet." "She sinks the blade into your chest again, and again, and again... and you feel every inch of burning pain that slices itself into your body."

If we resist his instructions at first, but give in later, he seems genuinely apologetic. "This can't actually be how everything ends..!" "I'm sorry, but it is." or "As much as I'd preferred for things to have gone differently, I can't deny the reality of what has happened." He wants this to work, and he wants us to come out happy and content by the end of it.

He seems caught off guard in the Spectre route if we try to kill her while she's in our body. "Slay her would slay you. Are you sure you're willing to do that?" One would expect Him to immedietly be on board with whatever plan gets rid of Her, but the "heroic"(in His eyes) gesture immedietly makes Narrator develop a soft spot and start to worry for our well being. He doesn't like the idea of the hero being denied their happy ending.

He genuinely believes the Princess to be a manifestation of everything evil in the world and constantly denies her any personhood. It's not an active choice either, as Narrator is an Echo with a set amount of beliefs that cannot be changed. He never changes His mind about anything and one of His core beliefs is that He is right. He has to be, otherwise everything he'd done, everything he went through, it would all be for nothing.

That which was once a defensive thought, shaped by his own hurt and unwillingness to see another perspective, becomes a universal truth.

[pasc4lfuzz]

me vuelves loco

pairing: javier peña x f!reader a/n: i've tried writing before, but every time i've tried and even posted, i've deleted it after less than a week because i didn't like what i'd written. I don't know if I'll regret this one-shot after a while and end up deleting it, but I hope you like it. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!!!! summary: During the DEA New Year's party in colombia javi can't take his eyes off you. rating: MATURE! MDNI warnings: flirting, heavy make out, alcohool, remembering sex (i think this would be the right term lol) word count: 3.5k dividers by @/saradika-graphics

December 31st and you and the DEA still haven't caught Pablo Escobar, and so goes another year of hard work, always getting close to the goal but never quite finishing. As always, on New Year's Eve, the DEA throws a party for its employees. Last year you didn't feel like going, you preferred to stay at home, you, a bottle of wine, a plate of pasta alfredo and the TV on. 

You were immersed in your own thoughts for a long time as you sipped your wine, reminiscing about everything you did last year, especially your mistakes, how many times you and your partners were close to catching the head of the cartel and something went wrong, taking you back to the beginning. But that didn't even come close to occupying your mind during the night, definitely not, in your head there was only Javier Peña, that man with the broad shoulders and slutty waist, the way his thight jeans hugged his legs and ass, the cheesy grin he did when he hears the sound of your heels through the office. But surely one of your biggest mistakes - or the one you try to convince yourself was a mistake - was having sex with Javier. You didn't want to be another notch on his belt, but (un)fortunately you ended up giving in, but how could you not? 

That night you were going over some files with Javi in his apartment, glasses of whiskey on the coffee table, some papers lying on the sofa and on the floor, Javis eyes every few minutes on you, admiring you, flirting with you until you couldn't stand it. Suddenly you remember Javier's lips where in yours kissing you hungrily, his tongue searching for yours while their hands stroked from your waist to your ass and their hands tugged at your hair. You remember everything down to the smallest detail, the way he kissed your whole body, the feeling of his tongue flicking your clit, he tasting your pussy like a starving man. The weight of his body on top of yours and how your inner walls hugged his cock in every thrust, his groans and whispers praising you were echoing in your mind, and you realize, you've got it bad for Javier Fucking Peña.

So this year you've decided to go to the party, maybe you'll meet someone important there, get more contacts to help with Escobar's case. Work, work, work, that's all there was to your life lately, stressing you to the limit many times, you saw things and situations you'd never forget, but in the end you told yourself the same thing, in the end I'll have helped a lot of people, and that's all you wanted. As well as thinking that going to the party will help you at work, a week earlier Connie Murphy was at your apartment, your partner Steve's wife met you by chance in the building that the DEA had made available to the agents when you were coming home from work with Steve and Javi, and since then you've become friends. 1 week ago, the night Connie came to your apartment to have dinner and talk, she mentioned the party and said she was going with Steve and asked you if you were going.

"I don't know Con, I was thinking of going but... it's not really my scene" You say sighing and throwing your head back on the sofa, wiping your hands across your face "Maybe there I'll be able to talk more to some people from the Embassy and-" You're interrupted by Connie waving her hands and starting to talk.

"No, no, no, that's enough work talk and work thinking" Connie puts her hand on his shoulder, making him look at her "You work too much, you put all your time and effort into the DEA, I understand that it's supposed to end all this madness once and for all, but I think it's best if you give it a rest, you know." 

Her gaze gradually calms you down, your shoulders relax and your posture is no longer rigid from all the stress you've been going through lately.

"Think of this party as an escape from your problems, there won't be any narcs there for you to worry about, and I'll be there too," Connie says winking in your direction, eliciting a huffy laugh that shakes your head.

"Yeah, I'll go, at least I don't have to drink my own wine" You shrug letting out a sly smile.

The atmosphere in the main hall where most people were meeting is buzzing with energy and excitement. The vast space is adorned with shimmering decorations, exuding a bit sense of luxury, besides this was a DEA party, some colombian politicians were there making presence. Soft, warm lights bathe the room in a flattering glow, casting a sophisticated aura over the gathering. Lively conversations fill the air, complemented by the soft tones of a electric guitar, bass and a woman singing beautifully playing in the background. You're wearing a pearly white satin dress that goes all the way down to your heels, your make-up is simple but your lips are a deep red.

You pass some of your coworkers doing a fast small talk in pursuit of your goal of getting to the bar counter. There are at least 3 people in charge of making the drinks and preparing the drinks that are ordered, you give a friendly smile to the man who approaches you on the other side of the counter asking if you would like anything. You quickly look at the drinks menu and order a Cosmopolitan. 

This isn't one of the best scenarios you could imagine yourself in, you barely enjoy going out for a happy hour after long hours at work, let alone a New Year's Eve party with almost everyone you've worked with. You blame Connie, who, by the way, you haven't seen until now, while your eyes slowly wander around the room watching the others chatting and smiling. One of your favorite pastimes is:

observing.

Many times have you found yourself late at night when you couldn't sleep at your window, feeling the soft caress of a refreshing breeze that carries a subtle hint of the surrounding nature. The gentle touch of the air eases the sticky, humid air that normally hangs heavily in the Colombian nights, providing a respite from the tropical heat that characterizes this part of the world. Colombia wasn't a city that never sleeps like New York or a night city like Los Angeles, but there was a bit of movement at night, and you love watching people pass by and guessing where they're going, who they're meeting or how their day went. And now it's no different.

You're immersed in your thoughts, your attention going from person to person analyzing their features and posture, some with fake smiles just to please the rest around them, others very excited about the turn of the year with a fresh start, and a good number of the people you work with exhausted, just wanting this drug war to end.

Your trance is interrupted when you hear a familiar voice in your ear.

You knew that voice very well.

A voice that sends your heart racing and your spine tingling with anticipation.

It's Javier, his voice velvety, sultry, and more than enough to send shivers down your spine, awakening a deep sense of longing that you find both thrilling.

“Hermosa, I didn't expect to see you here” 

You turn your head to the right and see Javier Penan, leaning slightly with his right arm on the counter, with that smirk in his face that drives you crazy- NO!

You hate it.

“Peña.” You give him a slight nod and pick up your Cosmopolitan, which should have been sitting there for at least two minutes while you paid attention to your surroundings. 

You feel Javier's gaze travel slowly from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, as if he were taking in every aspect of you. His eyes travel with an almost tangible intensity, like a physical caress on your features. You can practically feel the way his gaze follows the outline of your hair, pauses to appreciate the shape of your face and then moves down, lingering on the curves and lines of your body. The way he looks at you is almost hypnotic, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you.

“You look stunning,” he says, and you feel your heart skip a beat as his eyes meet yours once again. Those warm, brown puppy dog eyes that you had thought could see right through your soul.

You feel exposed, laid bare under his gaze, like a book open for inspection. There's a spark of mischief in his eyes, as though he's enjoying the effect he's having on you, and he leans in a bit closer, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“You don't look so bad yourself,” I reply, quickly looking him up and down. The suit he's wearing hugs his body perfectly, emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders, and making it hard not to appreciate the way it shows off his physique. I can see the strength in his frame, the way his shoulders bunch up as he rolls them back, and the way the fabric stretches over the muscles of his arms. My eyes dart back up to his face, where his mouth curves into a small, wry smile, the look in his eyes almost smug.

“Like what you see?” Javier winks at you and you take a big sip of your drink, breaking eye contact.

“you wish” I roll my eyes placing the drink down ”have you seen Connie?”

“Hm yeah she’s actually with Steve talking with Noonan” He points to his partner and his wife talking with the ambassador.

“Excuse me Peña.” You say walking away from him, you can feel his eyes glued in your ass, watching the way your hips sway as you walk through the room.

As the night wore on,you were engaged in a conversation with Connie and started to question your decision to listen to her.

"Connie, I think I'm leaving now," you said, finishing the last sip of your drink as your eyes scanned the room.

She gasped, clearly not believing what you were saying. "No, no, no! We discussed this already. If you leave, you'll be all alone on New Year's," she exclaimed.

You nodded, replying, "That's exactly what I had planned, just like last year."

“No, come on stay for me, soon Steve is gonna start getting sleepy and i would get bored” Connie waits for your response.

You close your eyes taking a deep breath before answering a simple “Fine” and Connie smiles at you.

“I’ll get you another Cosmopolitan” Connie leaves towards the bar to get you the drink she promised.

As you patiently wait for your friend and your drink, you couldn't help but take another look around the room. This time, you noticed something you hadn't before - a nearly closed door. Intrigued, you couldn't resist exploring further, walking towards the door and gently pushing it open.

Behind the door, you found yourself in a cozy little library, filled with books and the faint scent of old paper. As you walked along the shelves, your eyes scanned over various titles until something caught your attention - your favorite book.

There it was, standing out among the others, and your heart skipped a beat out of excitement. You eagerly pulled it out from the shelf and held it in your hands, feeling a sense of comfort and nostalgia wash over you.

“That’s a good one.” A voice behind you echoes through your mind, of course it's Javier.

You turn around looking at him trying to hide your emotions from the guy that little by little was stealing your heart, and that scared you. You shouldn't feel that way about him, you know very well that Javier Peña doesn't do relationships.

“Didn’t know you read.” You say sarcastically putting the book back in its place.

“Oh please, I know I'm not the most intelligent man but sometimes I read.” He says while slowly walking towards you, it’s like your body is calling him.

"Anyways, it's a classic, of course it's good," you say with a hint of excitement. Without realizing it, you start to passionately ramble about the book, your words flowing effortlessly as you speak.

"I mean, just the way the author captures the essence of the characters' development throughout the story, the way the plot unfolds, the way the conflict is resolved - it's all so brilliantly done. And don't even get me started on the writing style!" As you finally finish your passionate ramble about the book, you suddenly notice Javier's gaze fixed on you, almost as if it was burning through your skin.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, taking a few steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I…” You can’t trust your own words at this point, afraid you’ll say something that will fell wrong.

A shiver ran down your spine as Javier spoke in a low, sultry tone, his words sending a warm sensation coursing through your body.

"I don't think you realize this," he continued, his voice dropping even lower, "but you literally become ten times sexier when you talk about books."

“Stop right there Peña” You put your index finger in his chest “I know where you tryna get from this, and im not ending up in your bed” 

“Hermosa” Your heart skipped a beat as Javier pulled you closer, your bodies now touching, his whiskey breath hot against your face. "Believe me," he murmured, his voice dropping to an even huskier tone, "I'm not just trying to get you in my bed. You might not believe this, but I really like you."

A wave of heat washed over you as you looked up into his eyes, wondering if there was more to  his words than just a line. And he was right, you didn’t believe him at all.

“Doesn’t seem like it” You murmur

Javier's gaze deepened as he looked into your eyes, his voice still carrying that sultry undertone. "I like the way you prefer tea over coffee," he began, the words coming out slowly and intentionally, "and how you always drink your jasmine tea in our office. The smell of it wafts through the room, constantly reminding me of you. And your laughter, it sounds like a 5-year-old's - innocent and carefree. But it brings a smile to my face every single time I hear it."

As you giggled and shyly looked away listening to him list the things he liked in you, Javier's smirk widened, his fingers gently catching your chin and turning your face back to him.

"Yes, that's the laugh," he repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice, "the one I was talking about. It's infectious, you know."

Your eyes get lost in his, it’s almost like you can see and learn everything about him just by looking at his brown chocolate eyes. Javier's lips left a trail of gentle pecks on your cheeks, while his words echoed in your ears, sending a surge of heat through your body.

"I like it when you let your hair down," he murmured, "but I also like it when you tie it. I like it when you speak in Spanish," another kiss on your other cheek, "and most of all, I love the way you talk about the things you love."

As his lips hovered millimeters away from yours, leaving you yearning for more, you couldn't resist any longer.

The moment your lips met, an explosion of sensation took over. It was a hungry and passionate kiss, filled with months of built up tension and desire. Your grip on Javier's neck tightened as you pulled him closer, your bodies pressing against each other. His hands found their way to your hips, holding you tight as the kiss deepened. Tongues danced in a greedy, desperate dance, exploring each other's mouths as if trying to devour one another.

It was like an explosion of feelings all together, you felt like your heart could jump out of your chest at any minute. 

Sure you’ve already shared a few kisses with him, but it was always with a second intention, just like that one night you never forget. But this is different, the kiss was slow and deliberate, every movement filled with emotion and desire. Your lips moved in tandem with each other, exploring every inch of the other's mouth. A soft moan escaped your lips as Javier's tongue traced along your lower lip, seeking entrance. You granted it willingly, allowing him to plunge deeper into the recesses of your mouth. The kiss was hungry, but it was also tender, a perfect blend of love and excitement.

You feel your back against one of the bookcases as Javier kisses you more and more. Your hands pull his hair and massage his broad shoulders.

As you pulled your head back, gasping for air, Javier instinctively tried to chase your lips, unwilling to break the connection. He opened his eyes and couldn't help but let out a low growl at the sight of you biting your bottom lip, your eyes still closed in the aftermath of the passionate kiss.

As you opened your eyes and caught sight of his smile, something in your heart flipped, and you knew you were in too deep. "I believe you," you whispered, holding his face gently in your hands, your thumbs gently caressing his jaw.

"But if you really want this," you continued, your voice firm yet tinged with a hint of vulnerability, "you have to try not to mess things up. I'm willing to give you a chance, but I need you to promise me you'll be careful with my heart."

Javier's smile widened even further as you spoke, his heart swelling with a mixture of relief and affection. He leaned into your touch, savoring the feel of your thumbs caressing his jaw, and he nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry, hermosa," he murmured, his voice softer and more genuine than you had ever heard it before. "I won't mess this up, I promise. I'm all in."

Without missing a beat, your lips crashed into each other once more, the passion and intensity of the moment taking over. The world around you faded away as you both become lost in the kiss, the hunger for each other growing stronger with each passing second.

As the kiss deepened, you found yourself pressed up against the shelf, Javier's body pinning you against it as his hands roamed over your body, touching every inch of exposed skin. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, hungry kisses along the sensitive flesh. Your bodies instinctively moved closer, creating a delicious friction that sent waves of desire coursing through you. The kiss grew more intense, full of passion and need, as your hands became tangled in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

As your fingers tangled in his hair and he continued to kiss and bite at your neck, an unexpected moan escaped your lips. You tried to bite your lip to hold it back, but the sensation of his lips against your skin was too overwhelming to contain. This only fueled Javier's desire, and he let out a low growl in response, one hand on your hips and the other one on you inner thigh pulling your right leg up to his waist.

A shiver ran down your spine as Javier's breath tickled your ear, his hot whispered words sending a thrill of pleasure through your body. "I forgot one thing," he murmured, his teeth gently biting down on your sensitive earlobe. "I love when you moan for me."

His body was still pressed against you, pinning you to the wall, and you could feel the effect your moan had on him, the tension and desire in the air palpable.

Just as Javier's lips were about to descend onto yours once more, the sound of an unwelcome voice called your name, breaking the spell. You both froze as the door handle turned, the wood moving just a fraction before it swung open.

Connie stood in the doorway, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the scene before her.

"What are you doing - oh my god," she gasped, quickly shutting the door again.

Javier takes a few steps back running his hand through his hair as you smoothed your dress. “Connie?” you ask behind the door and open it seeing her holding your drink. “I… I took a little longer to grab your drink and then i was gonna hand it to you but you weren’t there anymore so i looked for you and-” She spoke nervously trying to process the moment she had just seen. “Ok hm thanks for it by the way” you grab the drink from her hands taking a sip before looking quickly at Javier.

“It’s almost midnight by the way” Connie says leaving the library.

You felt a pair of warm, strong hands gently gripping your waist from behind. Javier's hot breath sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned in close, his lips ghosting over the sensitive flesh of your neck.

"Come on, I want another reason to kiss you," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

[labnegativeone]

ROBO, WHERE ARE YOU?! IT'S BEEN AT LEAST 2 YEARS AND WE MISS YOU! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!

[WHAT? NO, NO, NO, THAT CAN'T BE RIGHT. IT FEELS LIKE I JUST HAD THE CONVERSATION WITH CAROL THREE DAYS AGO. THREE...]

[OH....DEAR. I'M SURE THERE MUST BE SOME RATIONAL EXPLANATION FOR THIS.]

Fortune...? Who are you talking to? Ugh...Aeon, I feel like I just woke up from a killer nap...

[VALENTINE!!]

*CLANG*

GYAGH-GIRL, YOU'RE HEAVY!

[SORRY! SORRY! I JUST HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN FUREVER!]

Right, well, while that's very endearing, I don't think killing me is going to make you any less lonely.

Besides, it hasn't been that long, has it? Only a couple days.

[....]

[I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT. SHORT ATTENTION SPAN, WHAT CAN I SAY?]

[I'M TALKING TO PEOPLE! IN THE REAL WORLD! ON THE INTERNET!]

Oh, really? Honestly, when you stopped so abruptly after that big blowup, I sort of figured you were done.

[AN ARTIST CAN NEVER TRULY ABANDON HER CRAFT.]

[WELL, NOW THAT YOU'RE HERE, I'LL GIVE YOU AN OPPORTUNITY TO EXPOSITION DUMP. YOU LOVE TO EXPOSITION DUMP.]

...Hate install...? Hate install...

Oh, I know what you mean. I never would have thought to call it that, but I think I follow you. That right there is the Buer Drive. In intense situations, it pumps a chemical into her bloodstream that increases her speed and power. And since Gae Bolga feeds on her blood, it makes it even-

[HER.]

eh-What?

[GAE BOLGA. SHE'S A GIRL.]

...it has a gender?

[WELL, IF YOU CAN THINK OF ANY OTHER EXPLANATION FOR CAROL'S NAILS SUDDENLY CREATING A VENUS SYMBOL WHILE WE WERE TALKING ABOUT HER, THEN RETURNING TO NORMAL ONCE WE CORRECTED OUR PRONOUNS, THEN I'D BE FASCINATED TO KNOW.]

...Well, okay then. I guess she gets even stronger from it. Of course, it's not without its drawbacks. While it does increase both Carol's power and that of her parasites significantly, it also impairs her cognitive functions. Er...Carol's, I mean. Well, maybe Gae Bolga's too, I honestly didn't realize i-she had anything resembling cognitive function until right about now.

Honestly, she becomes a force of nature. Terrifying, to be frank. Especially since if Buer goes a bit too overboard, she stops being able to easily tell friend from foe. It's a bit of a-

[BUER-SERKER RAGE.]

Sure. Let's go with that.

[crypt-void]

So I have this bit, right? It's been a while since I've done it, but if I bring it up with my friends, they can still easily understand or remember the joke.

It's called the Dan Rules. It's often comedically egotistical and vain and was made because out of our little group, it was a joke that I am (as an act) an eccetric (maybe enigmatic if I'm feeling fancy) person who does whatever the hell I want.

If people thought to question my behavior, it was often quickly followed with a "that's just Dan" from my friends and easily dismissed. Sure, some of my boldness was probably left over from my middle school years, where I felt I had to lean into my weirdness completely so people would see me more as a joke than a freak.

But then I found myself in a safe, accepting environment, one where the need to bite and snarl and run away never came. I waited a while for it to arrive for me to feel the need to play the part of the fool for my newfound companions entertainment. It shocked me when I was left with genuine love and compassion. I leaned out of self-deprecating humor and completely into the (very obviously joking and fake) role of an egotistical short and angry ruler. For fucks sake we still have the name of the group chat as "Dantopia". I still did the bit to entertain my friends, to keep them laughing at my antics. But this time, it was accompanied by my own laughter. I enjoyed a new sense of freedom it brought.

The Dan Rules came out of when we were messing around, and I'd lean into this foolish king role, and I would proclaim something insane or childish. A popular one was, "Dan is never wrong." Often followed by a warranted scoff.

But the second rule is a good one, I think, one that really shone through as a reminder that I am not now who I was before.

"I do what I want."

I hadn't had much freedom before I met my current group of friends. I was quiet and kept quiet at times. I felt muzzled and chained, and as if I was a dog because someone forced a collar around my throat and pulled me on a leash.

It wasn't only that I didn't have the choice of self-expression, though. I'd also seen what happened to people who gave too much into reckless. I grew up with the weight of their actions carried on my shoulders, and while I have always been bold in my identity and beliefs, I was quiet and still when presented the opportunities to escape from situations where people kicked me down for who I was. I feared what would happen if I left my old group. Ironically, this fear led me to be isolated.

I found myself almost completely alone in the pandemic, and my only saving grace was a new school with new people. New people who didn't tell me to shut up or that I was ugly or that I needed to stop acting like an animal or they'd treat me like one. Instead, I met friends who handled me gently and taught me it was okay to hug just as it's okay to bark, and they welcomed me. I felt at home. I felt as if I knew myself completely.

So, with the second rule, which I still follow to this day, I added a private note.

"I do what I want. Because I can trust myself to."

Know thyself

I can trust myself to bark or scowl or growl just as much as I can to love and kiss and hug. I can stay aware of what is and isn't good and how much or how little I can trust someone. I can be bold and loving all at once and welcome others with open arms and flashing fangs.

I am in complete control over myself, and even when I am doing something so I can see my friends laugh, I am also doing it because I can, and I do what I want.

[keepmyeyesonthehorizon]

Me and @skyyneverlookedsoblue trying to find the perfect fic to read but it's too specific and I never thought I'd laugh so much in a situation like this. I love you, baby! I think I'm gonna cry.

[tremendouskoalachild]

dialogue references to the original trilogy :)

[the-real-list-of-ominous-threats]

I will make your weird masochist friend call you a tsundere and beg for you to hit him

[bunnihearted]

i feel like many ppl dont understand just how unwanted i am and how deeply it affects me... my presence isnt wanted anywhere, and wherever i go i feel like im not allowed to exist. im never anyone's first choice. never the first favorite friend. never this never that. like im never the first choice for anyone, just now i almost got hit by a car bc the driver chose to not hit another person close by. they would've rather hit me than that person. and that's just how it goes for me wherever i go. im lucky when and if im even tolerated. but im not wanted or the first choice or the favorite. that just makes me feel so profoundly alone, like i dont belong anywhere or is even allowed to breathe the same air as everyone else.

[spurgie-cousin]

tag yourself I'm equal parts non-denominational (what my church called itself) and church of christ with a small splash of Baptist 😭😭

[tumblingxelian]

Chrysididae 

The Birth of the Hero Chrysididae!

A student film premiers, a lost heiress in enraged at the perceived betrayal of her sponsor, classmates, family and even oldest friend.

Why she wonders, why do these things keep happening to me?

It is a question she had wondered before but only rarely, too often it was too easy to find some enemy to blame, or her own lack of exceptional talent.

But on this day, when she reflects on Gabriel Agreste's souless stare from the tablet, something clicks.

He did this on purpose.

Like one domino hitting another, it sets off a chain of memories and with them a realization.

On what was to be Adrien's first day of school, the first Akuma appears, despite the fact that surely other teenagers were embarrassed or angered.

This should have scared Adrien and compelled him to stay home, but no.

So it is again with Stoneheart, but somehow, for some reason he chooses Chloe as a victim despite nearly every member of class being terrified and enraged, despite his intent to be to confess his love to Mylene.

He still takes the time to kidnap Chloe, who was the instigator of Adrien's rebellion.

This would be her first near death, but not the last.

Lady Wifi would come next, suitably aggrieved perhaps but to what purpose? Hawk Moth of all people should know Chloe could not have been Ladybug, so there needs to be another motive, one to target the girl and not a presumed hero.

Ah yes, punishing her for helping Adrien slip his grasp.

Evilillustrator, would be next, neglecting the humiliation and abuse his teacher subjected him to in favor or murdering a girl for a snide comment regarding his crush.

Now you might say, what of Roger, Rose, Juleka and Kim?

But remember, even an Akuma will not go against the deep and abiding instincts of its source human. Their loved one's may be in endangered on accident or in a deranged bit to assist them.

But never would they be intentionally harmed.

In this same vain, a man who believes wholeheartedly in his duty to be of service to the community, a girl whose most malevolent self only wanted a dream wedding, a girl who wished to be seen and a boy who wished for love to disappear.

All Akuma that either would not or could not kill by their nature or that of their powers. They would be insufficient for breaking the girl who defied him.

Antibug is where things begin to change.

Convinced that her beloved idol hated her just as her mother always had, Chloe began to break. So much so she could not avoid his Akuma this time.

Able to defeat Chat Noir and a fair match for Ladybug she was one of the stronger Aluma. Not in the upper echelons like Style Queen or Sanboy, but worth stoking over the coals for an even greater reaction.

Speaking of Style Queen, you may question why Gabriel would allow his son, who has so far avoided all harm from any Akuma to be struck low.

I remind you that while his control is great it is not infinite. I would add that not only does Hawk Moth's ego outstrip his control but so too does his scheming.

Why snub the notoriously angry Style Queen? Why would Nathalie, an otherwise sensible woman go along with the insult. Only to see him retract it the next day? Why was Gabriel who has refused to leave his manor in all other attacks absent when the Style Queen invaded his home?

Why if not for the fact he sought to make Style Queen and with Mayura's help could do so. But she was not enough alone, but her presence would bring about inspiration for his newest scheme.

It would bring about Queen Wasp.

But first, you may question why Gabriel would allow his son, who has so far avoided all harm from any Akuma to be struck low. I remind you that while his control is great it is not infinite, and would go further and note how strange it is that Gabriel would be absent from his manor.

He would not leave during any other Akuma attack, yet the this one? How odd, lest

Murdered by her mother the day before, then rejected by her yet again, mind on the edge of snapping she orchestrated her own self destruction and from the wreckage crawled the first Akumatized Miraculous User.

For we cannot call her a hero.

Who was the next Akuma, but her own father. His intent with her just as it was with his wife, to keep her in Paris for his own pleasure at her expense. Conveniently ensuring Hawk Moth's new muse could not slip the leash she did not even know was fastening around her neck.

Just as hoped it would see, she was chosen this time to wield a Miraculous and she would be chosen again on Heroes' Day. Hawk Moth's only known effort to Akumatize others rather than letting the people of Paris do his work for him.

This was where we first saw sign of Mayura and to any who have been wondering. Yes, this is why The Collector & Simon Says mean so little. There was always a hidden second who could have commanded the Akuma, and if not, paint a target on his back from a target so far away that the here's would surely arrive in time.

With Mayura's arrival came a new wave of terror, not just for Paris but Chloe in particular.

Don't believe me, I do not blame you, but it is the truth.

Over the months following Heroes Day, battle after battle would be fought before the former Miraculous Holder. Always in front of her home where the Bee Signal shone, always to see her rejected by her idol.

From this came Miracular.

Close, but not close enough, Chloe resister the Akum, but Sabrina could not and within moments of Chat's arrival Mayura was upon them.

The villains had been waiting, a clear signal they had been observing her for sometimes, a clear signal of their continued interest.

Especially given, despite the months of absence, the moment it was necessary, Queen Bee flew again. Even as Ladybug swore this would be the last time as she doubtlessly had done for the last two months of battle.

Only to change her mind as needs demanded it.

But do not think her egotistical my witnesses. It was not merely Chloe who was targeted but another as well.

Marinette Dupain Cheng. A girl who has yet to be Akumatized, who holds a disdain for liars and seeks truth. Such an ideal recipe for an Akuma that could force Ladybug & Chat Noir into the light.

Thus it was, she'd be framed for cheating, theft and assault before her classmates by one Lila Rossi. Perhaps this would not convince you alone but I ask.

How did Hawk Moth know the class he has so often predated on, the class which contains Adrien Agrest, if he did not have a hand in this event?

This was not the first time Lila was used as such. Whispering sweet lies into Chloe's ears about how to summon Ladybug but leaving her humiliated instead.

Has she not done the same with others? Kagami for instances.

Decaying day by day, and nightmare by nightmare, Miracle Queen approached and this is where it all comes together.

Her feuding parents presenting with a garment both ugly and enraging that binds them together by a man who proclaims himself a designer.

An Akuma on the scene in mere moments, to combine them into one. The parents turned against the child enough to harm her yet again, but kept from devouring her. Finally, the Bee Signal sabotaged.

Why this family, why this girl even before the Miraculous? Who would know her well enough to orchestrate such targeted strikes against her psyche? What man has the motive, resources and insight to break Chloe Bourgeois?

Why its the same man whose beloved assistant fell ill at the same time as Mayura vanished from the field of battle. Its the same man who had a hand in the transformation of Style Queen & Heart Hunter. It is the same man who promised a desperate girl a movie, only to rip it away with a subtle smile. Knowing his Akuma would find her soon.

But he was not ready for me, or in a way, for her.

Chloe Bourgeois, the girl you knew, no longer exists. She had no desire to anymore, more than Hawk Moth saw to that.

What she did desire was to prove she was more than a Super Disaster and means by which to free her from the role long since assigned to her.

For the latter, came a Sentimonster not long for this world. Its power exorcising that malevolent miasma of Hawk Moth. But even as it was destroyed the creatures magic did as it was bid.

For his voice had gone silent, the rage faded and the Akuma was taken into more than this mere suit but into the skin, to course through her blood and bury itself in her marrow.

Now I emerge from the girl that was once Chloe Bourgeois with three purposes.

To tell the world of Gabriel's crimes, to defeat Hawk Moth, and be an exceptional Hero.

I am Chrysididae and for what its worth, I am sorry.

[goodest-noodle]

me: i'm kinda worried these meds will mess up my emotions and how i express my feels friend: you're on a roll huh

these meds cant stop me because i'm a dumbass in every iteration

[talesofwhimsy]

WHY?, “Sin Imperial" // Car Sear Headrest, “I Can Play the Piano”

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

[vrgssmncht]

Throwback to my eleventh grade self who wrote about two gay-ass grad students who loves hiking becoming conservation scientists and slowly falling in love and then agreed to live together in the woods.. I even inserted a Queen song ref at the end on an angsty car ride- the gayest thing I ever wrote. I wrote it for creative writing assignment in my strict Islamic school's english class.. ah I really thought it was soooo discreetly implied and sooo subtext nobody would ever think it's a gayass story. But thinking about it back, damn, my teacher probably goes live slug reaction on the first paragraph of reading that hahah.