#They never had the chance at a normal life

[writeaboutit]

Donation Boot

How firefighter Abby and Reader met

Hello hello it’s been a bit so sorry but I had this idea for a series of sorts following firefighter Abby x Reader through life. I have ideas for a couple more stories but if you have any suggestions leave them in my inbox for sure 🤍

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none just fluff

You heard her key jingle in the lock from the kitchen. The metal on metal scratching noise was like music to your ears despite it being like nails on a chalkboard to others.

That noise meant your wife was finally home. All day you had been waiting for her to come home, missing her warm cuddles. She left for the station before you had even woken up.

Usually you stirred awake for the briefest of moments in those early hours when you heard the shower start, you made it a point to stay awake just long enough to say an I love you as you sent her off to do her work. You never knew when it might be your last so you didn’t chance it.

But last night the melatonin must have hit you extra hard because you didn’t even register Abby’s movements when she leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to your brow bone before clunking out of the room in her steel toed boots.

You regretted not waking up; no more melatonin for you.

The front door creaked open and you heard your dog’s collar jingle as she ran to greet your wife.

Abby must have been following the dogs lead to your presence in the kitchen because you heard her mutter, “Come on, where’s your momma?”

Your heart was instantly a mushy puddle on the tile floor following the comment. Just as you finished drying your hands the love of your life rounded the corner.

She was wearing her normal uniform. Not the big, bulky, fireproof suit but the fitted jeans and the navy blue t-shirt with the station’s logo over her breast.

You were such a sucker for a woman in uniform, it’s how she caught your attention in the first place. But what kept you around was that blinding smile she had plastered across her face that first day.

You and your friends decided to visit your local farmers market during second year of college. It was a fluke really, you weren’t even planning to go with them but after days of them whining that you could spare a couple of hours away from the text books and come have fun you agreed.

The local fire station had a booth set up collecting donations and the truck open for kids to climb in and take pictures.

One of your friends thought a fire fighter was hot and insisted on getting a picture with him by the truck (her very obvious way of flirting). You couldn’t blame her though because you had your eye on one of the younger trainees.

She was working the booth, tracking donation levels and you knew you would hate yourself for the rest of your life if you ignored your gut.

So, despite you being 19 and a broke college student you approached. They were collecting cash donations in one of the big fire suit boots.

You slipped the only cash you had on you into the dark depths of the boot, ten dollars, and were planning to make your way back to your friends, chickening out of talking to her, when all of the sudden you heard, “Hey, wait!”

You turned around and there she was. She had gotten up from her perch and made her way around the table. It was a bit jarring at first. She was tall, muscular, that tight ponytail made her look very sever, and here she was leaning over you with an expectant look.

“Yes?” you asked hesitantly.

“Don’t you want your coupons?” she asked suddenly realizing that she was close and backing up a step.

“Sorry?”

The confusion must have been written on your face because she immediately explained in a sort of rambily but very cute way, “When you donate you get a coupon to the local grocery store… and some other stores but honestly there all the old lady stores in the mall. The grocery ones the only one worth it.”

You just smiled softly at her over explanation. You expected her to be this over confident, maybe slightly douchy character from the way she approached before but really you could see her nerves peaking through now.

It only made you more attracted to her in all honesty.

“Oh right, yeah thanks.” you took the coupon sheet from her and after a moment of tense silence between the pair of you, you both went your separate ways.

It wasn’t until later that night when you went to cut out the grocery coupon and throw out the rest that you realized she had messily scribbled her name and number onto the think colorful price of paper.

You squealed, your roommate asked what was wrong and then you both quickly plotted on what you should text her.

It was simple really just a quick hey this is so n’ so, how are you?

Your phone only sat face down for a total of three minutes before you heard the chime of her reply and the rest is history.

Now seven years later your wife, the nervous fire fighter with the tight ponytail, was coming home to you. You would share a meal, a shower, a bed. It was the life you always wanted and all because you went to a farmers market on a random Sunday seven years ago.

That blinding smile that caught your attention all those years ago was plastered across her face now in the small kitchen of your small house.

Her setting her bag down on the island brings you out of your memory.

“Hey honey,” you greet, making your way to her.

“Hi baby, what were you thinking about just now?” she wraps her arms loosely around your waist.

“Hmm nothing much just your pretty smile,” she rolls her eyes, never one to take a compliment, “Speaking of which, that smile usually means you’re plotting something. What is it?”

She looks down at you and smiles, “You know me too well. I was plotting on what we are going to do over the next three days that I have off of work.”

That gets you excited. It’s not often that she gets time off of work. Sometimes you don’t even see her for days at a time when she has to sleep at the station. Three days off in a row is practically unheard of.

“Really?”

“Swear,” she kisses your forehead.

“Eek, so what were you planning?”

She chuckles and belts her arms just under your thighs, lifting you into the air, “Oh I think you know exactly what i have planned.”

Her voice turned seductive and husky. You squealed as you became level with her face. You both laughed into a soft kiss, one that was definitely going to lead to a forgotten dinner on the stove and a closed bedroom door.

[hardlyinteresting]

To Have and To Hold

Jake Seresin x Reader

Jake comes home

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please), I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended) Word count: 1.8K

The floorboards creak with the weight of his footsteps still. there's a strange comfort in the sounds of this old house settling; the hum of the refrigerator downstairs, the quiet slide of his socks across wood floors. If he listens carefully, he can hear the whistle of the wind blowing past the window he meant to reseal all those months ago. The reminder of another missed task weighs heavy in his heart; a failure to provide a safe, warm home. It's the little things that matter most, his mama's voice reminds him, but it's the little things he so often misses-- always overlooked with the prayer that he won't be made a liar when he says he'll do it later. 

Time plays him for a fool. At 35 he rushes to make sure he meets the milestones he set out for himself, steadfast and resilient in his resolve to do more-- to be more. He breaks records, and sets precedents. But, he struggles to relax. Breathing doesn't come easy to him when it's not through his aviator's mask. In for seven, out for five. He counts the seconds of his inhales and exhales grounding himself in the moment. 

He does his best to hold tight to the moments he has here, But still, it never seems to be enough. like sand through an hourglass it all seems to slip away from him; these new found days of domestic bliss escape through his fingers like the memories of his childhood back in Texas. He wonders if one day he might be afforded the chance to pick up all the pieces and fit them together in some semblance of a “normal” life. He worries about his time away from home, what he's missed, and worse yet what he stands to miss if this life is taken from him too soon. 

Tonight marks the end of a six month separation, and tomorrow morning the count down to his next inevitable departure will begin. Always running out of time. It never used to bother him, it exhilarated him even, time blasting by in a blink of an eye. Back when he was younger, back when he had nothing to lose, and no idea what he stood to gain by sticking around. Now he worries about the quality of the lock on the front door, he thinks about restaining the floor downstairs and fixing up the kitchen. Domestic life snuck up on him. Slowly but surely his house became a home. Sun-baked bricks and weather-worn siding, with a shade of green paint he's been told matches his eyes. Four walls and roof that keep the outside world at bay. 

Down the hall in their bedroom, he Expects to find his wife sleeping, waiting in dreams for him to come home to her. It's the part of his job he struggles with the most now. It's so hard to leave this life they've built now that part of him is forever tethered to the earth. 

“I worry sometimes that I'm holding you back,” she confessed one night, “your job is hard enough as it is…I don't want to make it harder for you”. He hadn't been able to find the words to tell her how wrong she was.How could he describe the ways she had changed him? 

The need to return home to her never leaves him stunted in the sky, it fuels him. Long gone are the days where he fought just to be seen; she sees him. He's quick up there, tens of thousands of feet above the ground, he's calm and he's brilliant. His colleagues can call him cocky all they want, but his confidence is founded on his proven ability, and sometimes it's necessary to show off a little bit even if it's just so he can have another story to tell his sweetheart when he gets home. He imagines himself writing her name in the sky, carving her likeness in the clouds, a blazing trail racing home to her. 

So many of his earlier years had been spent playing the field too afraid to commit, too afraid to be loved. Adaptability, while necessary for his job, had never been his strong suit. A tiny part of him deep in the back of his mind always left the hair at the back of his neck on end when faced with change.

He had struggled in school, not academically, but socially and learned to over compensate to make up for his discomfort. The navy had given him the structure he had craved, a way to make his bed and fold his clothes, instructions that weren't open to interpretation. Living on his own allowed him to follow the same schedule and practices as he did on base.  In a split second, his life on the line, he never hesitates, but sustained change to his daily life left him nauseated. Welcoming another person into his life, and into his home had pushed him past the edges of where he believed his comfort laid, but forced him to confide in a support system outside of routine. 

Over the course of a few weeks her belongings joined his, sprinkled through out the house like a treasures to be found. Without a word she had taken care to intermix her books with the few of his own on the shelf, sorting them by alphabetical order just as he'd been doing for years. His anxiety slowly waned as his darling girl continued to prove she understood him better than anyone else ever had. 

“Do you prefer flying at dusk or dawn?” She had asked a few weeks after she moved in. curled up on their sofa, her head tucked under his chin, college football playing on the tv, she traced invisible shapes across his chest. “I don't have a preference, sweetheart. I just like flying,” his response felt half-baked, but it was the honest-to-good truth. 

“But if you had to pick?” she persisted. He weighed his answer before giving it to her, “if I had to pick, it would be dusk. There’s a moment, if you're up at the right time where you can see the night sky blending into the sunset…the sky is a gray-blue and you can see the sun at the horizon and the little pinpricks of stars”. 

“It sounds beautiful,” her smile was soft and genuine when she cupped his cheek to make sure he was looking at her. A habit of hers, not letting him hide away from the softer parts of himself, she seemed to so easily pull out. “It is”.

That weekend he’d spent 72 hours on base and returned home on Monday evening to the faintest smell of fresh paint. In the low evening light, it took him a moment to figure it out, standing puzzled in the middle of the living room, still dressed in his service khakis trying to identify the source of the smell. “You’re home!” she’d grinned coming down the stairs, her jeans and t-shirt splattered with gray. It’s then he noticed with his darling girl looking so proud of herself, the walls of the living room coated in a soft heather blue-grey, no longer just a coat of contractor-grade white reflecting the shade of twilight through the windows. Flicking on the light he watched her grow nervous as he felt his brow furrow processing the unexpected change. “Do you like it?” she asked. 

“It’s perfect, baby,” he promised pulling her close and kissing her thoroughly, “It’s beautiful”. 

A few months later he came home from work to find his shower gel and shampoo had both been replaced by a new set. Confused and with no other option, he chose to use them, deciding he liked the smell of eucalyptus and mint much more than he'd liked sport: for men anyway. 

“Baby, what happened to my shower gel?” 

“You were complaining about how dry your skin has been”.

“Hmm,” the consideration to change his routine to better himself hadn't occurred to him before she moved in. 

More recently he'd come home from a night out with the squadron, and woken up under a Forest green duvet, a jarring difference to the burgundy plaid cover he'd owned for years. Momentary panic filled his chest. Like a sharp, sudden plunge into cold water he'd gasped his eyes scanning the room to confirm his location. The familiar scent of her perfume, the sound of the ocean breeze, assured him he was in fact in their room. In the dark when he'd come home, colour of the duvet hadn't been noticeable and he found himself mildly embarrassed by how badly it startled him. Her hand reaching out for him, stretching across the sheets to touch him lured him back to a flat position letting her snuggle herself right up against his side. It was then he noticed that the weight of the blanket was the same as before, and it was just as plush as it had always been. Her on going respect for his comfort continued to leave him floored. A memory of her texting him to ask his favourite colour (green) filled his mind and left him drifting back to sleep with a smile on his face. 

Secretly, he'd begun to look forward to the tiny changes she brought into his life and into the house. The littlest reminders of their strengthening bond, their lives stitching together in more tangible and visible ways. The Navy had taught him to think literally, latteral thinking developed and honed to reach conclusions and make decisions quickly and effectively, but the metaphor of their lives blending like the presence of her belongings along side his own, and freshly painted walls is not lost on him. 

Tonight the house is quiet as it often is when he returns so late. He knows if she knew what day he was set to come back home she would've done her best to stay awake for him, dozing off on the sofa with the living room curtains wide open, hoping to catch the sight of his headlights pulling into the driveway. It's thoughts of her safe and waiting for him that have pulled him through this latest deployment, so he does his best not to disturb her sleep as he makes his way to her. Like a silent sirens call an unspeakable force drags him through the house. His boots are left by the door, laces tucked in. His bag is heavy in his hand, more than just its physical weight tugging at him, and he's glad to be able to put it down by the bedroom door. 

“Welcome home,” she whispers stirring from her sleep as he slips beneath the sheets, freshly showered. 

[thoseyoulove]

Not justifying Armand, but you don't get through that amount of physical, sexual, emotional abuse, brainwashing, isolation etc to the point of amnesia and dissociation since you're a human child until you're a centuries old vampire (and vampirism amplifies their traumas and emotions) without accidentally reprogramming your brain in a really messed-up way. Specially when you're stuck in a teenage brain forever. This is not someone that lived a safe and privileged life, not even a remotely decent one, and decided to be evil. In many ways Armand forgot or didn't even get to learn what is meant to be human and have a healthy lifestyle and relationships with people. Obviously, it would take him a long time to catch up with his humanity and even develop a sense of identity (one of his many issues too).

[orimuraa]

✎ᝰ. So sweet like bubblegum - OT7

(synopsis) ˖ ִֶָ𐀔 when you are enhypen’s tutor but they end up falling in love with you -✧

ot7 enhypen x fem!reader ˖ ִֶָ𐀔 fluff ˖ ִֶָ𐀔 mutual pining ˖ ִֶָ𐀔 reader has to tutor enha ˖ ִֶָ𐀔 tutor to lovers ˖ ִֶָ𐀔 sunghoon's has a kiss in it ˖ ִֶָ𐀔 wc 1.7k

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂ

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

recently, you have been tasked by your professor to tutor lee heeseung. heeseung was your typical jock, he played football, he was tall, muscular, handsome, and was practically failing his classes. heeseung was very popular around your school so when you started tutoring him a couple months ago, people thought that you two looked really cute together. over the time, you found yourself falling more and more for heeseung's flirty nature. the truth was, heeseung actually liked you for a long time now and felt like he practically won the whole lottery when he was told that you would be his tutor. one afternoon, you received a text from heeseung, asking you to meet him in the school garden. confused, you made your way to the garden, spotting heeseung in the middle. "y/n, i don't really know how to say this so i'll just be straightforward with it. i- i really like you and i have for a really long time and i've just been too scared to say anything because i was scared you didn't feel the same way!" you found him quite cute the way he shut his eyes and just let his words spill out, in hopes that it would make sense to you. "heeseung, i like you too. i'm so glad you were able to tell me how you felt" you smiled. you will never forget the way his eyes lit up and he pulled you into the sweetest embrace, mumbling into your hair how he would never ever hurt you. man, you got so lucky with this one.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

it wasn't like jay was a bad student, he just had been struggling in the english class a bit more than he would've liked. but when he got the news from his professor that you would be his tutor, he was beyond excited. he had been hiding a 3-year-long crush on you for forever and he felt that now was his chance to finally make his move. you two had instantly clicked during your first tutoring session and you had secretly been crushing on him for the past few weeks as you tutored him. jay couldn't just let you slip thru his fingers yet so he decided to pick up the courage to ask you out. while you were studying, you felt your phone ping on the desk next to you. looking at it, you saw it was from jay. it read: hey ynnie! i'm sorry i'm too much of a chicken to come ask you in person but, did you maybe wanna go out sometime with me? y'know as a date? lmk and we can plan! <3 maybe your love life wasn't so sad after all.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

jake wasn't exactly the brightest when it came to some of your classes, so when you started to tutor him, you began to see why he didn't fully understand the work. he was easily distracted, resembling an adorable golden retriever, and although it was hard to tutor him, you couldn't help but catch feelings for the boy. he was so sweet and kind and you smiled so much your cheeks hurt whenever you were around him. jake on the other hand, was always so nervous whenever you two had a study session because how could he ever act normal when the prettiest, sweetest girl was tutoring him? he was head over heels for you and anyone could see it. it just happened that you were a bit oblivious to things like that and completely missed the way his eyes would form into little hearts whenever you would walk by. jake always thought that you were wayyy too good for him. you were basically just a fantasy that he couldn't obtain. everyday, both you and him would fall more and more into a love spell with each other with the other not knowing anything about the feelings. so it was a bit nerve-wracking when you received a confession letter from jake, saying how in-love he was with you and how he didn't exactly have the courage to go up to you and say it to your pretty face. but in the end, it all worked out as he was able to win your heart and take you on a date (later on, dating).

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

park sunghoon was the school's best ice skater, but when he started to fall behind in his math class, it posed as a great threat to him. if his grades were not good enough, he wouldn't be able to participate in the competitions. therefore, he needed a tutor asap. that's where you come in. he came up to you one day, practically begging for you to tutor him since you two shared a math class, only agreeing because you had a massive slight crush on him.you had only really seen sunghoon during the ice skating competitions, but being able to enjoy his real personality up-close like this was even better. he was actually a naturally charming guy and he was so sweet with you. no one in their right mind would be able to resist his charm. sunghoon had also been slightly crushing on you since you've started tutoring him. the way you were genuine with him and didn't just want to be near him cause of who his reputation was, but for his actual personality. one session, he had abruptly stopped the lesson and turned towards you. "i think i would go crazy if i didn't say this now so y/n, i like you. i've never felt like this for anyone and i really don't want to mess this up, and it's totally fine if you don't feel the same beca-" you quickly shut him up with a kiss, just so happy to hear that your crush was mutual and not just one sided. "it's okay, i like you too" the two of you just smiling like idiots.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

at first, you were really shocked to hear that you would be tutoring kim sunoo because you thought he had decent grades? but nonetheless, you were excited. you actually had a massive crush in sunoo since forever but you were way too shy to go up and confess, so you were hoping to make a good impression on him. kim sunoo actually did know who you were and he would be lying if he said he didn't find you a tad bit cute. you were exactly his type and you were so so so so sweet. you two were an immediate bond at your first tutoring session and the both of you were practically made for each other. other students already thought you were dating with how close you two had become. but one late afternoon, when sunoo sits you down, telling you he had something to tell you, the last the you expected to hear was his confession to you. he expressed how much he loves being with you and how he didn't want to ruin your friendship if you didn't feel the same, he just needed to let you know. smiling at him, you let him know how head over heels you are for him too and now you two can proudly confirm whenever someone asks if you two are dating.

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

jungwon was the student body president so he was the obvious choice to go to when you needed some extra help in your bio class. he was so sweet about it and totally understood your situation, and agreed to tutoring you. the first month was amazing as you could already see an improvement in your grade! but you also noticed how your heart would start beating 10x faster when jungwon was around you. you admired his stunning face so often that you could draw it with your eyes closed. what you didn't know was that jungwon was also feeling the same way about you as you were him. it made him slightly nervous due to the fact that he had never felt this way before. after consulting his friends, he mustered up some courage to buy some flowers and ask you out on a date, old fashioned style. when you opened your door, you definitely did not expect to see jungwon there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. "oh! uhh i prepared what i was gonna say but i think i just forgot it all. whatever, i'll just say it. i like you y/n and it's okay with you, i was wondering if you wanted to go on a date?...with me?" he asked nervously. it was safe to say that it was the best date you have ever been on.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

we all know that ni-ki is not a school person whatsoever. so it isn't a shocker when the professor tells him he has a new tutor waiting for him in the library. you had no idea that you were gonna be tutoring your middle-school crush and to be honest, it made you want to dig a hole and cry in it. ni-ki made you nervous whenever he was around so you had no idea how you were gonna tutor him for the rest of the semester. he was such a flirt with you and it definitely did not help your crush on him at all. ni-ki had also been going through a bit of a crisis because why was he suddenly feeling butterflies in his stomach whenever he would see you? what spell did you cast on him? your tutoring sessions had just convinced ni-ki further that he had fallen into you game of love because he could not focus on the work anymore, preferring to study you flawless face instead. one evening, ni-ki and you were having a late session when he suddenly looked at you. "what? do i have something on my face?" you asked, confused. "uhh n-no i just- i- ugh. i like you y/n. all of these tutoring sessions have made me realize that and i just needed to get it off my chest." he sighed, looking away and you swear you saw a dust of pink on his cheeks. "aww ni-ki..." you smile. "don't tell anyone, but i think i have a crush on you too," you whisper. thank god for these tutoring sessions, cause now nishimura riki has the most perfect girl in the world.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂ

i'm sorry this one came out so late >.< i promise to try and post them a little earlier next time! tysm to @kpislby for the wonderful inspo for the fic!! reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated! <3

[stayandcozy]

Reflection of Us

Hyunjin X Reader Oneshot

WORDCOUNT: 3833

Masterlist

MATURE THEME ADVISED (Smut Focused)

These celebrity parties normally never bothered me. I was used to smiling and just nodding my head as big name idols rambled to me about a lifestyle I completely didn't understand. But that was okay. I didn’t mind and often I enjoyed getting to know more about the life Hyunjin lived. 

When we first started seeing each other two years ago, I made it clear that I didn’t want to share that type of lifestyle with him yet. I wanted something quieter, more romantic. But of course that only got to last a while, luckily we both knew it would happen. That Hyunjins relationship with me would get leaked. It was horrible at first, with fans sending death threats and him needing extra security. But now things have settled down and as my punishment I get to go to these parties. 

Worse was that these were not just social events for the boys but also work. Which meant Hyunjin was off playing the politics of his life. And I was forced to listen as Changbin listed off all his reasons for getting the idols to play a baseball tournament. 

“Oh come on, you have to see it right? All of us in those cute little outfits running around? The fans would eat out of our hands! Imagine how cute Hyunjinnie would look.” 

“Bin, your fans would be too focused on how bad you all are to pay attention to the outfits.” I said while taking a sip of champagne. It was expensive and still tasted like shit. 

“Where is your boyfriend, I need someone to team up with,” and with that he started whipping his head around to look for Hyunjin. I was completely unbothered by his antics so I just shook my head and looked down to check the time on my phone. But when I looked back I saw that his eyes had grown three sizes bigger. I followed Changbins gaze to the corner of the room where Hyunjin was sitting on a chair with two girls on each arm rest. They were giggling at something he said, and touching his shoulder flirtatiously. 

Not here. Don't make a scene, anywhere but here. 

As if he could feel the jealousy radiating off me, Changbin turned to me trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m sure he doesn’t even realize what they're doing.” 

I took my glass of champagne and swished it down in one gulp. “No, maybe not, but I’m not sure that makes it any better.” 

I couldn’t stop myself from staring at them. The way both girls would lean into his sides. It was driving me crazy. It made me even more sick when I saw Hyunjin look up and smile at one of them. What kind of game was he playing? Did he want cheating rumors to start, because this is exactly how you get into that kind of scandal. Or maybe he just genuinely enjoyed the attention. The thought he was enjoying himself started a deep burning in my chest and before I knew it my vision was blurring. 

Sometimes it felt like Hyunjin knew something was wrong when he shouldn't. There have been too many days after work where I couldn’t find the energy to make an effort, and before I could even tell him, he’d be calling me. Telling me how much he loves me, and that no matter what he’d be there for me. That sixth sense he had, must have been the reason his brows scrunched and he looked up to meet my glare.

There was no way from that distance he could have seen me on the verge of crying. But I guess from my deep set frown he knew something was wrong. He started to get up but one of the girls started pouting, put a hand on his chest and pulled him back into the chair. I saw him say something to the girl but then the other put her hand on his thigh. Way too high for it to be innocent. And that was enough for me. I wasn’t going to sit here and watch my boyfriend get felt up.

“Hey Bin, can I take your dorm key? I left my car keys there and I’m not feeling too well.” I let the lie slip out even though I knew he was going to call my bluff. 

“It’s pretty cold outside, do you want me to call you a taxi?”

“No really, I’d rather walk. Give me a chance to ease my stomach.” He gave me a sympathetic look before digging into his pockets to retrieve a key. He dropped it in my hand before walking off in the direction of Chan and Felix. 

I didn’t waste any more time, and rushed to grab my coat and head for the doors. The air outside instantly nipped at my nose and cheeks. Changbin wasn’t kidding, it was unbearably cold. But the temperature was helping cool down the fire burning inside of me. Every time I thought of her fingers grazing his thigh it ignited stronger. Why didn’t he stop them? Was he really enjoying it like I thought? I know that he’s surrounded by beautiful idols every day but never once have I ever felt insecure. Not until then at least. That definitely made me insecure, hyper aware of every flaw on my body. 

Three quick beeps from my phone pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. 

From My Love <3 

9:52 pm

Hey sweetheart, where did you go? I saw you one second and then you were gone.

9:52 pm

Please tell me you aren’t walking home.

9:53 pm

Changbin told me you left and then called me an idiot��? Did I do something????

I didn’t have the energy for it. I just wanted to get back to my apartment and sleep. I clicked my phone off and instantly another text came through 

From My Love <3 

9:54 pm

I know you saw those. You’re making me anxious. Can you please tell me what’s going on baby? I can’t leave for a bit more, will you at least let me know you’re okay? 

A petty thought came to me, one that I knew wasn’t right but I wanted to hurt him like how I felt hurt. If he was fine with having two random girls flirt with him all night, then he would be perfectly fine not knowing if I was okay or not. Imagining him panicking over me made me feel a little better, which also made me feel insanely guilty. Whatever, he could handle one night of worrying about me. 

The rest of the walk didn’t feel real. I couldn’t recall a single thing from my walk, only that my insides were too numb for me to register any of the numbing on the outside. But when I walked into the dorm building, my ears started to hurt from the cold. I really needed a shower, something to warm me up and calm me down. 

It was rare that the dorms were this quiet. It was nice. 

I figured I still had a good few hours before any of them came home, and Hyunjins shower had one of those waterfall heads that dropped soft water. I opened the door and turned on the water as hot as it would go. A smile crept onto my face as I thought about how Hyunjin has screamed and called me his demon in the past whenever I got in first. But that smile soon disappeared as the thought connected me to everything from tonight, and it hit me again like a train. A scream was threatening to spill past my lips but instead only a choked sob came out. I let my legs give out as I sat and nothing could stop the onslaught of tears. 

What was wrong with me? Was I not enough for him? Did he want something more than what I could give? I couldn’t compete with those girls, who am I even kidding. Maybe it would be easier on everyone if he dated someone from the celebrity world. He shouldn’t even be with someone like me. I should take some space from him. 

The waves of thoughts were exhausting me more and more. I needed to get home. Sleep would bring clarity, surely it would. 

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the steam shrouded around me. Looking up from the ground, I was met with the red and puffy eyes of Hyunjin. I nearly screamed, not expecting anyone home, and feeling all too vulnerable in only a towel. 

“He told me you left because of me…” he started but trailed off when he had to wipe away a few stray tears. It took everything in me not to caress his pretty face. 

“Yeah...” 

He just nodded, and sat looking even more devastated. I couldn’t handle it, I needed him to leave or I was going to lose my resolve. “Please, can you get out? I need to get dressed.”

“Since when have you ever been shy about your body with me?”

”Since now Hyunjin.” 

“B-but I’ve literally painted your naked body before. I’ve stared at it for hours. Thirty seconds of changing is nothing compared to that.” 

I’m not sure why it upset me, but it did. “Mmhm, and that was before I felt like I was competing with other women. Now I don't want you to see me naked.”

His eyes softened a bit but there were still more tears threatening to spill, and I absolutely hated how beautiful he looked with the added sparkle. “Baby… Is that what this is about? About Seoyun and Jiwoo?” So he knew them? I didn’t know if that should have made it better or worse but I felt the familiar burn start in my chest. He shouldn’t have left, I didn't want him to follow me. Seoyun and Jiwoo would make better company. 

“Hyun, please leave.”

“No.”

“Why are you being so difficult? Can’t you see you’ve upset me and I want to be alone?” 

A small, exasperated giggle fell from his swollen lips. “I didn’t upset you. You got jealous.”

I rolled my eyes extra hard at that. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Then why did you leave the party so suddenly?” 

“Because I felt sick.”

“Because you thought I was flirting back,” he said more as a statement rather than a question. 

“No because watching you with them made me realize how terrible we look together!” It exploded out of me before I even had the chance to think. I regretted it immediately. 

“Come here.”

“Hyun no I don’t—”

“Sweetheart. I said come here.” 

He said it with such authority I felt like I had no choice but to listen. I let my legs carry me over to stand in front of him. But that wasn’t enough for him, he wanted, needed me closer. His hands came to my back, and pushed me to sit on top of his lap, straddling him. 

My eyes were closed, I knew I couldn’t look at him. I felt his soft hands push a strand of my wet hair behind my ear and his hand lingered a bit longer, swiping at the remains of old tears. 

“There is only you…” He whispered as his lips ghosted under my ears, “there will only ever be you.” I hated how easy it was for him to affect me. The evidence of goosebumps spread across my arms gave him the push he needed to keep going. “Look at me, my love.” 

And I listened again. I opened my eyes and stared into his. He was searching for something, but I didn’t know what. I stayed quiet hoping he would continue so I didn’t have to reply. I knew if I opened my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to control what I said. 

“When I have interactions with other women at parties like that, it means nothing to me. Truthfully it makes me quite annoyed but this is my life. I can’t risk coming across as rude even if I’m uncomfortable. I let them delve into their little fantasy because it’s easier. Seoyun and Jiwoo are the nieces of one of the big donors of JYP. My managers would have killed me if they said anything about bad manners.”

“It's not fair… I don’t want them to fantasize about you.” 

A shit eating grin spread across his face when I said that. “You do realize what our fans fantasize about right?” God, I really hated him sometimes. I lightly slapped his shoulder and tried to push away from him, but his arms wrapped around my waist and wouldn’t let me move. I kept struggling to slip away and it was useless because his hold was concrete. “Hey don’t try to wiggle out of this!” He laughed and started kissing my neck. It instantly sent shockwaves through my body and my groans of displeasure turned into moans of contentment. I was embarrassed of how quickly the anger melted off of me. 

The anger disappeared completely when I felt him harden in response to my moans. 

“Hyunnie…” 

“When I look at you love, I see art. It’s why you're the subject of most of my paintings. No flowers, oceans, or fields of green could compare to you. Those girls are nothing more than a business transaction. You are my muse, not them. There’s no reason to be jealous because you don’t belong in the same world as them.” 

“Ah—No more, no more… I feel like I’m going to explode from too many emotions.”

“Then is it okay with you if I show you how beautiful we look together?”

I couldn’t do anything but nod my head weakly up and down. He moved me off his lap and walked over to his dresser before shoving it roughly in front of the bed. “Baby what are you—” I asked but I was met with a sly smile and a shushing sound, so I did nothing but sit there and watch as he moved his large full body mirror to lean on the dresser. Excited panic started to rush up my spine. Oh my god he wasn’t going to. Was he? 

My question was answered quickly when Hyunjin came behind me and sat on his knees with me in between them. If the fandom knew him from one thing, it would be his cocky confidence. The way he was able to turn anyone into putty in his hands was a divine gift. One that he used often against me. I couldn’t help but blush as I realized what his intention was, so in order to take a chance to breathe I looked down and stared at the floor. But he wasn’t having any of that, and his beautiful fingers clenched my jaw and forced me to look him in the eyes through the mirror. All too soon he removed his fingers carefully as if to gauge if I’d try to look away. When he decided it was safe he pulled away fully and his fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. 

When I thought earlier that Hyunjin shouldn’t be with someone like me, this is exactly what I meant. He was too pretty for his own good. As if he was made to be looked at. And I couldn’t look away. The way his brows scrunched in focus as he finished unbuttoning sent tingles to my thighs and I subconsciously pressed them together trying to ease the ache he was creating. After discarding the shirt on the floor he nimbly removed his pants, throwing them across the room. 

“Now,” he started. “Look at how beautiful you are.” And he hovered over my hand that was desperately holding onto the towel. I gave in immediately and let him pull the towel down. We were both staring at each other through the glass. His eyes darkened and a hungry look took over his features. It was rare for Hyunjin to get this possessive, this dominant. Staring didn’t last long, he was getting impatient I could tell by the way he subtly arched his hips into my back. Suddenly, he pushed me down so my face was pressed against the bed and my ass was up, all of my intimate parts on full display to him. No matter how many times he saw me naked, I couldn’t help the blush that would paint my cheeks. 

“I’m going to make you cum on my fingers, and you’re going to be a good princess and watch how pretty you are when you cum, okay love?” 

“O-okay.” Was all I could stammer out before I saw him take the band around his wrist and throw his hair half up out of his eyes. Fuck, he was doing it on purpose. His eyes met mine again as he twirled a strand out of the pony tail and let it fall. He knew this hairstyle made me flustered. Whenever he did it at practice he would purposely send me a picture to tease me. And that’s what he was doing right now. That cheeky grin was back, and a groan slipped past my lips. 

“Hyunnie, if you’re going to tease me all night, I’m going to go back to being mad at you,” I said. 

“Oh? Is that so…” He trailed off and I felt those godly fingers slip between my folds. “You’re too wet to be mad at me sweetheart. You would dare leave.” 

The feeling of his fingers dancing on me was making me dizzy and if I didn’t get more soon I was going to pass out. I started grinding myself back onto him. Thankfully he finally listened and those sweet fingers pushed inside me. He was slow at first, taking his time as he eased a second finger in. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror and moaned at the sight. Hyunjin had one hand placed on my ass, and the other pumping in and out of me at a fast pace. The way he stared, captivated by me sent another shock to my brain and I could feel my orgasm bubbling. 

“Fuck… God.. Ugh baby look at you. I’m going to cum just from looking at you. You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum on my fingers?”

“Yes, god please, please, please, yes.” 

“Give it to me then baby. Cum for me.” 

And as if his every word held some supernatural force over me I did. I screamed out his name as I came around those stupid fucking fingers. 

“Did you see how pretty you looked, love?” 

Oh fuck. “I’m sorry, it felt so good baby I closed my eyes.”

He tsked, and I felt him shed his underwear. “I guess I have to do it again then and make sure you’re watching huh?” This side of Hyunjin made me weak in every way. I felt drunk on the dominance he was feeding me. I loved taking the lead with him normally but I couldn’t lie to myself. It felt insane to let him use me however he wanted. 

Before I knew it, I could feel him plunge himself into me in one slick thrust. The remains of the previous orgasm made it too easy for him to slide in. He let out a breathy moan and I snapped my eyes to the mirror to watch him. The image was so lewd. Hyunjin had both hands on my hips as he set a quick pace. I stared in awe as I watched him fuck me. Both of our moans joined together. He was right, we did look beautiful together. I nearly came when I saw him let out a light laugh and swipe his tongue over his teeth as he let out a vulgar moan. 

Watching him was bringing me closer and closer to another orgasm. 

“Mmm feel so good baby, I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep clenching me like that.” He said breathlessly. 

He was fucking me at a ruthless pace now, chasing his own high as he took quick deep thrusts. I couldn’t take it anymore, it felt so good. I let my head rest on the bed and closed my eyes for only a moment. 

“Nuh uh, we’re not doing that again,” he said as he reached forward and pulled my hair back towards him. The pain forced another loud moan out of me and it only encouraged him to go harder. I could tell he was closer from the way his eyebrows knit together and his thrusts become sloppy and greedy. He looked completely fucked out.

“Need you baby, need you to cum in me.” I managed to get out.

“Oh fuck…” and he fucked into me impossibly deeper. He still had a fist full of my hair forcing me to look in the mirror. I came instantly when I felt the warm jets of cum fill me. Clenching around him in flutters. 

He pulled me closer to his body and I felt the sticky sweat cling to my skin. His head was resting on my shoulder and I felt him watching me through the mirror, breathing heavily. I took a breath before I looked to meet his gaze. 

“See? Beautiful. We belong together. You fit me like a puzzle piece.”

I felt a pang of guilt wash over me and quickly slid off of him and turned to sit in his lap. 

“I’m so sorry I was so cold to you. I just got so insecure.” 

“It’s okay sweetheart. I understand completely. But no more being a brat to me over jealousy okay? That’s my thing.” I could help but giggle at him. He was truly the best, and I couldn’t have asked for a more caring boyfriend.

“Yeah I’ll leave the dramatics and brattiness to you. I don’t wanna feel jealous ever again.”

“Really? Not even after I fucked the jealousy out of you?” 

“Hyunjin!” 

“What! It’s true.” He giggled. God I loved him. I never hated him. I pressed my lips to him and felt him melt into my touch. 

“I love you.” I whispered. 

“I love you too.” He replied. 

His eyes looked at me so innocently and I felt that school girl crush creep up on me. What did I do to ever deserve him?

“You deserve me.” 

“How did you even—“

“I told you, you are my muse, love. I know you better than you know yourself. Come on, let's get you cleaned up and go cuddle. I expect two hours of back rubs as an apology for thinking I’d ever choose anyone but you.” 

And with that he stood and took my hand leading me back into the bathroom. A smile crept onto my face and I thought about how beautiful we looked together. I felt all of the worry melt off of me and something warmer, softer spread throughout my body. 

Author Note

You may have seen this before! I posted it on my private account, but decided I should post it here too. No I’m not stealing anyone’s work haha, I’m the original author. Thanks! Hope you enjoyed it you dirty freaks. <3

[bekkathyst]

The trees know me.

Growing up, I always knew there was something off about me. People treated me differently than they treated others. From the adults in my life, I heard that I was simply too sensitive. It was too easy to hurt me, I was too vocal about my emotions, and it would be better if I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself. In early school, I would get adopted by friend groups, but once I reached high school there was no real space for me. For the first couple of years I stuck with a certain friend group and later left when I realized half of them didn’t even know my name. People often referred to me as “the tall girl with glasses”, or even “the weird tall girl”. My appearance was just as strange as my personality, and people found me off-putting. I didn’t understand so much of what my peers said and did. I couldn’t understand why the people around me didn’t seem to have the same strong moral convictions, the same desire for self expression and the same disdain for the expectations of authority. I had, and continue to have, such a rich inner world in my head that it began to feel like I didn’t even need to have other people around.

Of course there must have been many others who felt the way I did, but it was too hard to connect with them for fear of the same bitter rejection. For a while, it made me angry and cold. My home life was so terrible, and school somehow could feel even worse at times. All I wanted to do was run away and escape, and at 17 years old, that’s what I did. I left school and left home and tried to grow up as fast as possible. I feel that in a lot of ways, this just made me even more isolated. I started to have no idea what people my age said and did anymore, and now, over a decade later, I still feel a massive disconnect with other people my age. I never quite belong; I’m never quite accepted. I now live on the other side of the world from where I grew up, and a lot of times, I feel the same insecurities I did so many years ago. People started strange rumors about me and my family, questioning why I didn’t have a normal job and questioning how I even supported myself.

My family has been living in this village for over 400 years, but since I grew up across the world, I am considered an outsider. My age old inability to act in a normal or expected way when meeting new people just fuels their skepticism, and it feels like I’m trapped in this horrible cycle of ruining my chances of ever having a real community.

Every time I ruminate about this, I remember one thing. The trees know me. They welcome me when I visit them. The glacial streams that flow through the woods recognize the blood in my veins. I know I belong here. I belong here because the forest embraces me and pats my head and tells me I’m home. I will never doubt again.

[yousaydisco]

THIS GOT SUPER LONG WHOOPS

I can't stop thinking about this post (TL;DR it is about how Kim's life is almost as sad as Harry's due to how he has lived his entire life as horribly repressed, not allowing himself the freedom of his own silliness which is why he is such a good pairing for Harry, since they are both silly) and I started thinking about thoughts

specifically how this knowledge would fit into a swap AU

like a lot of other people here, I really like a swap AU and I think it allows for a fun way to flip each character on its head and examine a Harry who is more cleaned up vs a Kim who is more of a disaster, and how Harry would fit taking a more patient role to a Kim that lost his memory. But! A problem I have with a lot of swap AU's is that Kim just. . . would never be allowed to be a disaster like Harry is.

If Kim was like Harry, who was brilliant and highly capable and basically the perfect detective except for substance abuse problems, explosive personality, narcissistic traits (looking at you, Superstar), and overall impossible to control, he would get fired. He wouldn't be given 500 chances like Harry (presumably) has. So in his swap AU, Kim is still his highly controlled self and Harry is slightly less of a disaster. Enough so that he doesn't drink himself to amnesia at the start of the case, but he is still a mess dealing with all his stuff.

So how did Kim lose his memory? Probably a car accident. Had to get dragged out of his precious Kineema and its completely totaled, he was hold up at the Whirling-In-Rags as he healed and woke up with just. No memory.

And no reason to repress anything anymore.

Some scenes:

Harry arrived at the crime scene days late because he was avoiding work to get drunk, which is also why Jean Vic isn't with him either because he's sick of babysitting him so when he gets to the Whirling and hears that the other officer hasn't been picking up the slack and instead is horribly injured he's like. Fuck!

Kim doesn't remember shit. Not about him, not about the world, but after some time wandering behind Harry all dazed and confused he finally sees Harry's car and GASPS and rushes over. He examines this thing top to bottom and spouts off trivia facts a mile a minute at Harry, who is just standing there like 'I thought this guy had brain damage' but he listens. So patiently.

He eventually does have to stop him though. He says its for the case, but it's really when Kim starts looking at the interior and he doesn't want him to see the mess in there. Or how badly he's taking care of the car.

Harry isn't sure why he's suddenly so insecure about being seen as messy in front of his guy. Whatever.

During the field autopsy Harry, who is horribly hungover, still throws up. Kim still comforts him by rubbing his back, probably went ahead and pull his hair away from Harry's face, and then pats around his pockets for the handkerchief.

Kim gets an inkling of a feeling that he's missing something (his notebook, though he doesn't know that yet) but Harry doesn't notice what is going on in Kim's head yet, when he probably normally would, because his highly highly repressed bi-sexuality is rearing his head because there is this guy just casually touching him lovingly and he can't think.

(Kim probably also lost his gun and badge, it fell out of his jacket when he was being dragged from the car, but Harry told him that in their first conversation. He wouldn't know that Kim is also missing a notebook)

Kim is also putting in all his effort into the field autopsy. He's like, I'm a cop? Okay, let's solve this!

When Harry suggests that Kim get on his shoulders to get the hanged man down he's like, hmm you look strong enough to carry me alright let's try that, and Harry barely has time to register that this guy called him STRONG LOOKING before Kim is climbing on him and he has to try and appear COMPLETLY 100% STRAIGHT.

He succeeds, but mostly because Kim is too focused on getting the corpse down. If he looked at Harry's face it would be very obvious.

But the actual autopsy = Kim probably approaches it mostly fearless. And he's trying to be really observant to make up for his eyesight not being all that great, and he's probably talking out loud about everything since he can't write it down. But it would still be Harry who noticed the bullet. Kim probably compliments Harry on his ability to see it and, again, Harry loses it a little bit.

Kim's interactions with Cuno and Cunoesse helps him unpack a few sense memories of going undercover with juvenile delinquents and he thinks the best way to talk to them is to relate to them. Somehow. All he can remember his trivia facts about Pinball and the best strategies to get a high school, and in between his lecture on it he sometimes breaks into rants about how Pinball sucks actually, and he hates it, and it makes him feel bad for reasons he doesn't know.

Harry tries to make Kim seem less weird by throwing in facts about Contact Mike.

More than anything it just baffles Cuno and Cunoesse.

When Kim hears that "Welcome to Revachol" for the first time he doesn't remember that its racist, but he does know how it makes him feel, so he's instantly pissed off. Harry, who is overall a good guy but has absolutely said racist stuff while drunk and probably the day before, goes off as well and stands up to the racist so Kim doesn't do something WORSE and get in trouble. It's not that Harry is socially aware enough that has a white guy he can get away with more stuff, he wants Kim to like him.

You know how at the end of day briefing in the game has Harry calling Kim so cool, and it feels like that is the moment where Kim is really endured to Harry? In this AU, Kim will say something like hey. We should hang out once the case is over. And Harry, who has a whole thing about feeling like he's terrible and horribly unlikeable and just wants someone to see him as a mess worthy of their time rather than just a fucked up person, finally admits to himself that he cannot repress this anymore and he might have a crush on this super cool weirdo.

(that doesn't mean Harry feels any better about himself, really. He's now just convinced that he has to Fix Himself Completely overnight so that he can actually help this guy regain his memories.)

(OH ACTUALLY! No, Harry doesn't want to help Kim regain his memories. He's not going to actively try and stop it if it happens, but he will secretly hope that he never remembers the world in case they met while Harry was blackout drunk and Kim won't like him anymore.)

A scene where Kim fiddles with Harry's radio and it starts playing disco. He can't help but let out an audible "ew." before switching it to Speedfreaks. Harry is offended to his CORE and they have a playful but still loud/heated argument about music.

THE BOARD GAME SCENE! Harry still gets Suzerainty and when he starts popping out the cardboard pieces Kim just SNATCHES it out of his hands. No apology. And he's having such an obvious blast just poking out the pieces and then taking out every part of the board game so he can see all the components (classic autism moment) that Harry impulsively (classic ADHD moment) buys multiple more board games just to give Kim more fun little pieces to poke out. And Kim loves it, and Harry thinks "I'm winning at making friends. I'm going to win a prize at making friends and the prize will be a friend :)"

They do eventually find Kim's badge and gun and Harry is very happy at that, but Kim is still like. Hmm. Something is missing.

When he finds his notebook he's just. SO HAPPY! He thinks its like being reunited with a friend. Probably hugs it/clutches it tight to his chest. But when he opens it he's like "god damn my handwriting is awful."

Harry asks to read it, mostly joking around, fully ready to steal it when Kim isn't looking, except Kim just. Hands it over. And doesn't stop Harry from reading it. And of course Harry does.

Kim doesn't really KNOW about homophobia so he probably just. Says gay shit all the time. And Harry can't deal with it. The scene with the smoker on the balcony is still really funny but it's less of Harry having a bi-panic moment (he still has elements of it though) but when Kim starts flirting back in earnest Harry is just. Jealous out of his mind. Puts a stop to it ASAP he's like "OKAY WE WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. ACTUALLY ONLY I WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. KIM LET'S GO!"

When Jean comes into the picture and starts arguing with/berating Harry, he's about ready to turn it into an all out brawl right there in the cafeteria, but Kim is like "HEY! You ass! He's been very helpful this whole time! Just because he's a drunk and he smells bad doesn't mean shit!"

Harry has heart eyes.

The tribunal has the injuries reversed, Kim gets shot and Harry gets the concussion and needs to keep Kim alive. Harry, who has been trying to sober up during the case for Kim's sake, takes speed to allow him to stay up to monitor Kim's health and as soon as Kim wakes up he's like "great! fantastic!" and passes the fuck out.

The whole thing with the Phasmid is the first time where Harry nerds out over something and not Kim. And Kim listens. And Harry probably cries because like, it's something he's allowed to like that isn't related to WORK and someone actually cares about what he is like when he isn't DETECTING and it helps him feel like a person rather than the Superstar Cop.

(Right after his rant on cryptids, Kim goes on a tangent about his cool camera and tells Harry every little thing about it and they just. Nerd out together).

[ask-me-later23]

Spencer Reid X Reader Fluff

In which a certain doctor asks you out for halloween weekend.

“Those who can dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.” 

-Edgar Allan Poe.

There is a certain comfort that can be found in books. The written word creates an alternate reality in which your worries and stress can be forgotten. Even though physically, all you can see are letters on a page, you find friendship among the characters, wonder among the civilizations, and a home in a theoretical land that you will never get to touch. 

There is a structure within novels. Every story has a start and end point, a climax and a resolution. Even when times get tough and your heart gets shattered, you know there is a happy ending. Perhaps this is why they draw you in. 

A happy ending is a concept that keeps you moving. It keeps you standing, even when life stands on your doorstep threatening to blow your house down. 

It made sense that you would grow up to work in a library. When literary icons become easier to relate to and connect with than real people, it makes sense that you would surround yourself with them all day. 

What you never expected, however, was that these icons would one day push you to make connections with another broken soul, another person who believed that books were easier to bond with than people. 

It started four years ago…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello the-” you jumped at the sudden appearance of the man next to you, dropping the pile of books you were sorting back onto the shelves.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Let me help.” He immediately bent down to retrieve the fallen treasures. However, you were already bending down, causing you both to bump heads. 

“Jesus-”

“I am so sorry-” You both spoke at the same time, clutching your heads. You quickly gathered the books and set them aside, turning towards the stranger and giving him your full attention. 

He seemed taken aback, a slight tinge of color in his cheeks. He opened his mouth a few times, as if he were about to say something, only to quickly shut it again. 

“What can I help you with?”

This seemed to snap him out of his daze, he immediately lowered his eyes and pulled out a slip of crumpled paper.

“Yes. I was looking for this book. I tried finding it myself but it wasn’t in the spot it should be. I’m filling in for a lecture today and it was something I was looking into for the class. I know it’s extremely last minute, but I just found out I was even going to be able to attend this lecture. My schedule is normally far too busy to allow myself the free time to be able to do so, but somehow I was able to clear some space for it. If you could check to see if you still have it that would be great, but I also now see that you’re busy so I can just go ask someone else. I’m sorry I really shouldn’t have bothered you. Now I’m just taking up more of your time by explaining things that you probably didn’t even need to know…”

Your eyes widen at the sudden information dump this stranger had just landed on you. Before even giving you the chance to speak he moved to walk away and find another associate to ask for help. Lunging forward, you grabbed the sleeve to his sweater, noticing the way the cuffs looked worn out and stretched, as if he had been pulling on them.

“Come to the front with me and we can look into it.” Without giving him an opportunity to deny your services, you lead him towards the front desk, not letting go of his sweater. Surprisingly, he let you lead him forward. 

You finally released him, leaving him staring at the newly stretched area that matches the cuffs. You typed aggressively on the decades old keyboard as he told you the name of the book he was looking for. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news here but it does look like someone checked it out less than an hour ago.” You glance up at him, not missing the slightly disappointed look on his face. 

Something about that look irks you, you don’t even know this guy’s name but you feel the urge to help him.

“Oh…okay. That’s okay. Thank you anyways, I’m sorry I wasted your tim-”

“I have a spare copy in my apartment if you need one. Wait… not that I’m inviting you into my apartment… I just meant that I could go grab it for you if you need a copy. I understand being in a time crunch, you would be surprised at the amount of last minute events I have had to accommodate while working here,” You add as you pick your nails nervously, watching his face for a reaction. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re in the middle of work. It’s okay, really,” He murmurs. You notice he starts tugging on his cuffs.

You ignore his protests, “What time is the lecture? I get off in 20 minutes and can meet you on campus. Before you can argue again, I’ve already decided I’m doing this. You’ll find I can be very hard to sway.”

His cheeks turn a lovely rosy shade again as he stutters out, “It starts at 6, but I was planning on getting there at 5 to give myself time to prepare.”

Hearing exactly what you needed too, you raise your hand across the desk. “I’ll meet you in the library then.”

He hesitates, staring at your outstretched hand. Quietly, he adds, “Handshakes are extremely unsanitary. There is an extremely high level of pathogens passed during them. It would actually be safer to kiss someone rather than shake their hand.”

After realizing what he said you both are glancing at your feet. You can feel your cheeks warming and are sure his are the same. 

As if realizing his error he attempts to correct himself, stuttering, “I- I only meant that-”

“I know what you meant. It's okay.” You let out a nervous chuckle. 

“I have to go. I’ll, um, I’ll meet you there.” He rushes out the door before you get a chance to catch this stranger's name. Laughing to yourself at this odd encounter, you return to your forgotten friends and resume placing them on the shelves. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Georgetown University library was always one of your favorites. Even the dark corners that would normally scare people away offered you a sense of comfort that you couldn’t deny.

Even with the oddness of the day, you somehow found yourself incredibly calm at the idea of meeting a somewhat stranger, whose name you didn’t even know, to hand over a book you have spent countless hours scanning, annotating and highlighting the contents of. 

You find said stranger wandering in between some of the shelves, looking closely at the spines in front of him. 

Taking a moment to watch him, you noticed his long hair that he kept tucked behind his ears, not missing the lock that kept falling into his face. He repeatedly tucked it back, the action looking so mindless it is clear it's something he does often. He was wearing converse, not matching the formal look of the rest of his attire. It seemed out of place, yet somehow fit together. As he examined a book from the shelf, you watched him flip through so quickly you thought he was just skimming, only to realize the intense stare he held proving he was deeply invested in whatever it was. It was a feeling you were all too familiar with, getting lost in another world hidden between the pages.

Smiling, you walked over quietly, not wanting to disturb his focus. You stopped in front of him, still somehow unable to notice you he goes to flip the next page.

“Hello there.”

This startles him, you giggle slightly as he drops the book he was holding. Both reaching down to pick up the fallen literature, you bump heads.

“Wow this situation seems oddly familiar,” you laughed as he grabbed the book from the ground. When he stands back up his cheeks are flushed again and he quickly places the book back in its designated spot on the shelf. 

“I- um… So you were able to find the book?” He stuttered out, swallowing roughly.

“All yours professor.” You pulled the item out of your bag, offering it to him hesitantly.

“I’m not an actual professor. I actually work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I’m just here as a guest speaker. It’s something I do for fun when I have the time.” He gently takes the book out of your hands, fingers being careful not to brush yours as he takes it. 

“So Agent?”

“Doctor.”

“Doctor…?”

He stares at you for a few minutes with his eyebrows pushed together, titling his head.

“Nevermind.” You giggled. “So you still have about forty minutes to kill before your lecture. How would you feel about a pre-speech coffee?” You drop your gaze to your shoes once more, pulling at the loose thread on your sweater.

“That sounds great actually.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never would have thought that he was a 1% coffee 99% sugar kind of guy, but here you were watching the not-so-strange-stranger dump 10 packets of sugar into his coffee. Your lip formed a hard line and your eyebrows were attempting to shoot for the stars as you watched him take a sip and not throw up from the unholy amount of sweetness that he had concocted. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. The man creased his eyebrows looking at you, searching your face for signs of illness. 

“Would you like some coffee with that sugar?” You chuckled.

His eyebrows pushed together, a look of concern forming until you pointed to his coffee cup. His mouth morphed into an “O” shape and he looked down as you both moved towards the area he was speaking at. 

“I like it sweet,” he whispered. 

“Sweet would be an understatement.” You laughed at his reaction.

“You’re drinking black coffee,” He said it like a statement, a tone of finality following his words.

“I prefer black.” 

“Loneliness is a black coffee and late night television; solitude is herb tea and soft music,” he muttered as you approached the door.

“Solitude, quality solitude, is an assertion of self-worth, because only in the stillness can we hear our own unique voices. Pearl Cleage,” you finished his quote.

He glanced sideways at you, eyes wide. “I- uh-” 

“I work in a library and have a PhD. in English literature. I can recognize quotes from my icons doctor.” You smirk as he stumbles over his feet.

Before he is able to continue you both arrive at the classroom he will be presenting in. He turns to you, still not quite meeting your eyes and pulls on his sweater again.

“Thank you for the book…and the coffee. I'll-uh be sure to return it to the library.”

You go to agree but the words die on your lips. Somehow the idea of today’s strange events ending unsettles you. You could easily leave and let him return the book to your workplace. He knows where it is clearly. But without even a name you are unsure you will ever see him again. Telling yourself it is out of concern for your belongings, you speak.

“Actually, I was thinking about sticking around and listening in…if that's okay?” Now it is your turn to stare anywhere but his face. “That way I can make sure it doesn’t get lost in the library's books, you know?”

He hesitates for a moment and opens his mouth to speak, thinking better of it he simply offers a smile and nods, rushing inside to get set up. You follow a group of students inside and find a seat, waiting to see the action.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the last student clears out you return from your daze you had found yourself in while listening to the man’s lecture. You found yourself admiring his nervous tics and the way he paced the front as he discussed behavioral analysis and criminology. You also didn’t miss the way his eyes somehow found yours, as if making sure you were still there, every so often. It was an interesting lecture, but perhaps the most interesting part about all of this was that you finally knew the stranger’s name.

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

He glanced up from his belongings that he was quickly packing up, confused, “what?”

“I finally learned your name,” you smiled. 

He returned the smile. It was genuine and broad, transforming his entire face. Crinkles formed around his eyes and a dimple complimented the upturned direction of his lips. As if realizing you were staring at his lips you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks. 

“Here’s your book back…thank you.” He extended the subject of today’s debacle. Hesitantly, you took it, although this time you noticed your fingers brush against one another and shockingly, he didn’t immediately pull away. Checking your watch you quickly put the book back in your bag and looked back at him. 

“I have to get going, it's getting a little late, but thank you for the lecture and the entertainment,” offering him the most sincere smile you could pull off you added, “Spencer.”

With that, you turned and began walking out the room but not before you heard him protest.

“Hey, wait. You never gave me your name either.”

Not stopping, just casting a glance over your shoulder, you offered back, “You’re a behavior analyst who works for the FBI, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Walking out the door you leave the doctor, who for once looked at a loss for words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been four years since then. Spencer began frequenting the library shortly after, finding excuses to come in and read something new. Somewhere along the way he developed a knack for bringing you coffee as well. A trade-off of sorts, coffee for books and company. You couldn’t deny the friendship you both had, or how much it meant to you both. 

Walking around the pumpkin and ghost covered library you hummed a happy tune. Halloween was always your favorite time of year. The temperature dropped and spirits were raised as everyone anticipated ideas for costumes, how much candy they would get, or what parties they planned on attending. For you, however, it was the aesthetic of it all. The changing of the leaves, the pumpkin carving, the pumpkin spice everything. You sometimes find yourself wanting to share it all with someone.

Spencer walks in just then, interrupting your thoughts with promises of caffeine. You drop your task at hand and meet him halfway.

“Please tell me you have brought coffee, otherwise I might just die on the spot Spencer.” You take the cup from him as he chuckles slightly, seeming to be in a good mood today. Halloween was something the two of you both shared a love for.

“You do know the average human is only supposed to consume four cups of coffee a day? I’m assuming this will be at least your sixth.” He gives you a pointed look with his eyebrows raised expectedly. “But yes, there is caffeine in there.”

You smile triumphantly and take a sip, “and this is why you are my favorite professor-slash-agent-slash-doctor there ever was.” 

His cheeks turn pink and he looks down. Giggling at his reaction, you nudge his foot.

“So what brings you here today doc?”

“You know, the origins of halloween are incredibly fascinating, it’s one of the most popular holidays, only rivaled by Christmas. It’s a sort of melting pot for a lot of different traditions from different cultures, but I always liked the idea that the Celtics and Europeans believed it was the one night a year that ghosts and spirits could walk the Earth again. This was what started the tradition of wearing costumes and masks, so that people couldn’t be recognized by the ghosts.”

You did know all of this, but you weren’t going to kill his mood like that, so instead you simply smiled along. “And here I thought halloween was all pumpkins and spice and everything nice.”

His attention seemed elsewhere for a minute, he gave a sad smile and turned back to face you, “not always.”

“Don’t worry doc,” you nudge him slightly. “I’ll protect you from the ghosts and goblins.”

He stares at you for a moment, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something. You notice a slight pink color creep up his neck and he looks down before speaking again.

“So what are your Halloween weekend plans?”

“Still toying with a few ideas. There's always so much going on, it’s hard to choose to be honest.” You returned to your desk, sorting through a stack of discarded books. “What about you?”

You notice he hesitates, toying with the sleeves on his shirt. The pink has turned into a lovely shade of crimson that has you holding back a smile before he pushes forward, “There is actually a reenactment showing the nineteenth century phantasmagoria that I was looking into. It was invented in France and was basically a pre-cinema projected ghost show in which the showman attempted to spook the audience using science magic. I- I, uh, I have an extra ticket if maybe you’d want to possibly come with me. If you aren’t busy, but you also said you were thinking about doing something so it’s okay if you say no.”

You drop the book you were holding with a very loud thud on your desk. “Shut. up.”

Spencer finally looks up confused, you interrupt him by grabbing your purse from behind you, pulling out two tickets. You show them off with a laugh.

“I have an extra ticket to the Edgar Allen Poe shadow puppet show. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with me. I didn’t know anyone else that would be interested in old man, creepy poetry shadow puppets.”

He immediately looks relieved. “We could always do both? They’re at separate times. Maybe even take a break for some dinner? If you want too…obviously you don’t have too.”

“Spencer Reid, are you asking me out on a date?” You covered the feeling of your cheeks heating up with a smirk, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Spencer was by no means unattractive, and at this point you had both definitely gotten to know each other on a pretty familiar level. You both had even hung out outside of the library before. But taking that next step had never been something either of you had even talked about. 

“I- uh- Well… I-” Suddenly the human robot began to malfunction before your eyes and you couldn’t help but cackle at his response. He coughed roughly and pushed out his next words, “If that’s okay with you?”

Something about how nervous he was only made the butterflies worse, but truthfully you knew there was always a fondness for the man that existed on a deeper level than just friends. You were on a first name basis with each other’s skeleton’s and never shied away from the closets they hid in. It had taken a while for you each to get that comfortable, both too scared by your own trauma to think about sharing it with someone else. Truthfully you didn’t think you trusted anyone more with your heart.

“Only took you four years to ask doc.”

[overtake]

Trying to do something resembling coping after Singapore. Have some Max/Daniel hurt/comfort (1.3k). Also on ao3 if you prefer.

The press of a button freezes Max’s watery blue eyes, the space between them bifurcated by the crease in his forehead.

“Is now really a moment to remember?” Max asks in a raspy voice. His throat isn’t clogged by tears, but there’s almost a decades worth of race starts together sitting uncomfortably in there and congesting each word.

His hand hasn’t strayed from Daniel since he found him after the race. It’s somewhere on some part of him every time he’s close enough to touch.

Normally he’s halfway home by this point, Air Max somewhere over the circuit skies and headed back toward home.

He’s stayed, this time, in case this is it. In case this is his last chance to neatly fold Daniel’s clothes into his bag, even though his own are always wrinkled under pairs of stained shoes and dirty briefs. In case this is the last time they both exit the paddock as drivers. In case this is the final chance Max has to trace the shape of Daniel’s jawline and tell him, “Good race.”

Daniel’s mum is giving them a last minute alone. She’s standing guarding outside the door and leaving them be for now. Daniel knows, though, that when they stand, she’ll hug Daniel close, wishing he was little enough to hide in the crook of her neck while she covers all his gaping wounds with plasters and a kiss on each one to ease the ache. 

Despite his complaints about the camera, Max still moves from where he’s crouched in front of Daniel to collapse into his side and observe the photo. He wraps one arm around Daniel’s back to tug him impossibly closer and rests his mouth on the top of Daniel’s shoulder in an exhausted kind of kiss.

“I look like shit,” he says, statement muffled by the fabric of Daniel’s shirt. He sounds like he wants to poke fun at himself until he makes Daniel laugh, but they’re both too hollowed out to muster up the energy. Instead, Max reaches out and turns off the display.

For a second, their fingers linger together on the camera’s body, until Daniel lets the camera drop back against his chest so he can entangle their hands instead.

“It’s not a nice memory,” Daniel agrees. Unlike Max, his voice right now can all be attributed to tears. “But in December, no matter what happens after today, I’ll get a retake on the farm. I’ll be happy, and we’ll be together, and life will go on from now.”

Daniel feels the dampness on his shoulder when a single tear breaks containment, then another, and a shuddering breath, until Max rights himself and pointedly looks away from the tiny patch soaked in cotton.

“It’s not fair,” he says tightly. For a second, he sounds every bit the bullish teenager with a black and white view on the way the world ought to work and bitter frustration that sometimes reality dapples in nuance. It’s the first thing to get Daniel anywhere within city limits of smiling since he set the lap record and gave himself a final moment in the car to reflect on everything this sport had given him, and that he had given this sport.

“Yeah,” he agrees hoarsely. “It’s not fucking fair.”

He’s done with excuses and niceties and dancing on the Red Bull puppet strings in hopes that playing their game might finally net him a seat he’d killed himself to earn. It’s not fair. It’s callous and cruel, the way they’ve strung him and everyone who loves him along for a race they aren’t even brave enough to tell him is his last.

They��re silent for another moment. Daniel closes his eyes and soaks it in: the tendrils of freshly washed hair still trailing water down his spine. The din of dog-tired employees breaking down the paddock, to be quickly vanished away as if it was never here. The ragged in-and-out of Max’s lungs as he tries to coax both of their breaths into something resembling normal.

“Thank you, by the way,” Max says softly. “And congratulations on your lap record.”

“You owe me a really nice Christmas present.”

Max presses a whisper of a kiss over Daniel’s drying curls. “You always deserve the nicest presents.”

Daniel’s mum slips in then, gently shutting the door behind her. Unlike Max, she’s made no secret of her tears. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she musters up enough of a smile when Daniel heaves himself up into her arms.

“Come here, Max,” he hears his mum scold. A second later, Max is in an awkward three-person hug. Grace’s short arms struggle to embrace them both, but smelling her vanilla perfume and knowing she’s there is enough to surround him in all the ways that matter.

She whispers in turn to each of them, but they’re all so tightly wound, they can all hear every word.

“Thank you for being here every time I couldn’t be,” she tells Max. He murmurs something back, but he manages to keep it quiet enough that Daniel can’t make out all his words. It’s something about thanking her for trusting him with Daniel, but the rest is lost. All he knows is that his mum’s tears start flowing again.

When it’s his turn, she can barely choke out the words. “I’m so proud of you. For your career, of course, but for who you’ve grown into. I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

“I love you,” is all Daniel manages. He buries the nose shaped like hers into the brown curls that his genes copy-pasted and soaks in gratitude that he has both her face and her endless capacity to love.

Daniel walks into humid night air with his head held high and a career most drivers would kill for, surrounded by people who love him for more than that list of achievements, and knows that he’ll survive whatever comes next.

“That’s a terrible photo,” Max complains three months later. His eyes are scrunched up all cute in it, framed by long lashes and sun-soaked freckles that are almost hidden by the streaks of dirt on his face. He’s smiling, both in the picture and right now, so Daniel knows he doesn’t actually mind.

Two weeks of busy Australian summer have left Max various shades of pink and tan. He'd somewhat learned how to use the grill that Daniel was too scared to touch and now had matching grill aprons with Daniel's dad. He christened the new baby cow the wholly uncreative name ‘Lilly’, because god forbid any animal in his vicinity not be named after Monaco nightlife. He’d also 100% taken to the dirt bikes as easily as everyone would assume and had absolutely, definitely not sworn Daniel to secrecy about where he got that giant bruise on his side after their first go.

When Daniel transfers the photos to his computer later, his finger pauses on the photo captured in a melancholic driver’s room. In it, Max’s eyes are dull and weary, but they’re looking at Daniel with the same unblinking love from today’s picture.

It’s proof, memorialized in expensive pixels, that Daniel’s life did not end on the streets of Singapore; that his worth to the world never depended on his points or podiums.

He closes the lid of his laptop and joins the gathering in the living room. Max is pouring fake tea for Isabella’s dolls. Isaac is politely sipping an empty teacup, one pinky in the air. Isabella is nowhere to be found, probably busy dragging Daniel’s poor parents to see Lilly the cow for the fifth time today.

“Daniel!” Max says, in the sweet, distinct way his mouth always forms the name. His face brightens when Daniel walks in. When Max smiles like that, it’s as if the sun has come through the roof and taken human form in broad shoulders and rumpled t-shirts.

“Max!” Daniel says back, matching his enthusiastic tone. He sits cross-legged in Isabella’s empty spot and slides his fingers between Max’s.

The tea party continues, and life moves forward.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hiyah! could I request Donna with a reader who has a really ratty old stuffed animal that they’re super attached to that Donna is a little (very) jealous of? maybe during a crisis Donna tears it apart and reader is inconsolable for days and won’t even speak to her, until one day Donna very carefully repairs that stuffed animal for reader again. love some angst with a happy ending!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))))

A childhood friend

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 7,770

Summary: How can I be jealous of a teddy bear...?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

I would never have imagined that I was waiting for someone, that in the darkness of my bedroom, loneliness wasn’t my only company.

After so many years of loneliness, of so much crying, horror… Finally I wasn’t alone and I would never be alone again.

My life is of no interest to anyone, it never was. Maybe I could have the feeling that I really left the young and crazy Donna Beneviento to become someone important, so “lady” preceded my name and I would feel special.

No, that didn’t work. I will always thank the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, for having been chosen for a cause that I am still not sure of. I became a Lord, someone to be feared. Yes, that sounded much better than: the crazy and sick doll woman.

But thinking that something in my life would change after my transformation was only part of an illusion, a desire of my subconscious to abandon my loneliness.

Yes, I had power. I could do things I would never have imagined. Causing fear and suffering to those people who one day messed with me was a fun pastime, but it didn't last too long.

Power brings fear, and fear brings loneliness.

It's not that I wanted to suddenly find myself surrounded by people who begged to serve me, as my sister did. No, that false desire to share my life with someone was the only bit of sanity left in my sick mind.

No, I didn't need anyone. I had everything without having anything.

Thanks to Mother Miranda's gift I was able to give life to my partner Angie, my only friend, the only one who, even without existing, was by my side all those years. A miracle from the Black Gods, a gift I can never thank enough for.

But after years and years of thinking that perhaps loneliness would always be my condemnation, that, simply because I was born into my family, having spent my childhood, my life in that sinister village, I would no longer have the right to be a normal person.

You appeared as a coincidence, as something that shouldn’t be there and at the same time had to exist; a beautiful, perfect girl, daughter of the village weaver.

Were you really a coincidence? It was becoming more and more difficult for me to see it that way.

You had something I needed. You had fabrics for my dolls. At first it was unexpected. The Duke simply didn’t have what I was looking for. When I saw you… When I saw you I knew that I would never buy fabrics from that greedy merchant again.

I preferred to see you, to see your innocent smile, the lack of trembling in your body when I was near. You were different, you didn’t fear me, or you didn’t show it.

That was much more than I had in my entire life, someone who smiled at me, who didn't run away from me, who didn't beg for mercy. It was sudden, my heart started to move strangely, to pound when I got close to you. Yes, I never had the chance to experience that thing called love, so it took me a while to be sure that it was what I felt for you.

Longings, sighs, smiles… All those changes, those involuntary actions of my body were like a disease, one that I did like to have, for which there was only one cure: You.

After a while trying to put my feelings back together, assuming that I really loved you, that I visited you only to contemplate your smile, I dared to tell you what I felt.

I wanted you to guide me. I wanted you to tell me what those sighs meant, those smiles that you were unable to see through my black veil. I explained everything to you, with fear, fearing that you would think I was just stupid, a poor crazy woman who didn't even dare to talk to people.

Your smile grew bigger and bigger and then… Then you confirmed it for me. Those butterflies in my stomach, my mind ravaged by your beauty, the sighs, the desire to see you… It was love.

I wasn't surprised by your timid explanation but... When I lowered my head, ready to run away, so as not to hear your rejection, so as not to hear that I was just a monster, then you did it. Without fearing the consequences of your audacity you lifted my black veil. You didn't uncover my face, just a little bit of it, just enough for your lips to rest on mine.

A kiss, the first of my life but not the last, a kiss from those tender, brave lips that didn't flinch, that didn't hesitate... The best kiss.

You also felt something for me. Your body was sick in the same way, it was sick of love...

Explaining how little by little the kisses became routine, how my caresses became more and more emboldened by your skin would be too boring. Everything we lived always had an end, a bitter one, the moment when you had to go back home.

Desperate, being selfish and possessive, one of those nights I begged you not to leave ever again, to stay with me. You, always surprising me, said yes.

And that, that was the first night in which our bodies could embrace each other eternally, in which the warmth of your body remained in mine.

“Okay, I'm done,” you said when your usual clothes disappeared to give way to a nightgown, the clothes that would accompany you every night. “Donna?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, shaking my head, leaving that journey through my memories, that explanation I needed to know that you were real, that you did exist. “Come,” I said, patting the mattress affectionately.

“Wait, wait, something is missing,” you said suddenly, searching for something among your suitcases. “That's it...”

I blinked several times when I saw you with something in your arms, it looked like a teddy bear, or at least, it once was.

“What's that?” I asked pointing at that ratty animal as you got into bed next to me.

“It's Percy,” you said with an innocent smile, showing me the teddy bear and moving one of its paws comically. “Hello, hello”

“Percy?” I asked again with a frown, taking the bear in my hands.

The condition of that plush was terrible. It was missing an eye and the seams seemed to want to tear. The passage of time was evident in the old bear, it reminded me of Angie.

“Mm,” you murmured as I continued to look at that worn teddy bear. “I've had it since I was very young, it's important to me, you know, like a friend.”

“A friend…” I whispered with an inevitably unpleasant grimace.

 I hate broken toys.

“Yes, I've been sleeping with him for as long as I can remember, he's always been with me, you know...” you commented, sighing and looking at the gestures I made on the animal, trying to recompose one of his arms.

“You haven't taken good care of it,” I murmured, looking at you out of the corner of my eye. “It's destroyed.”

You simply shrugged your shoulders.

“Yes, well... I've always taken him with me on my adventures,” you said with a nostalgic tone. “Time passes for everything, but for me he's still the same.”

“The same? (Y/N), it's missing an eye,” I said with a mocking smile.

I wasn't used to joking, I didn't even know how to do that, I always failed and that time, you didn't even bother to fake a smile, you just crossed your arms.

“You are missing an eye too and I love you,” you said with a dangerous whisper, one that indicated to me that you weren't joking.

I looked at you quickly, offended by your comment. You weren't careful, (Y/N), you didn't know how dangerous it was to joke about my horrible appearance.

Well, maybe you did, because your face immediately changed and you bit your lip, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Um, Donna, don't take it the wrong way... I, I meant it as a joke,” you stammered, with a reassuring tone.

I just nodded, taking one last look at that horrible bear and leaving it on the nightstand.

“Oh, no, no, wait,” you said climbing up my body and reaching out to grab the teddy bear. “Be careful, Donna.”

“Careful? Perché? I haven't done anything,” I said confused while you got off my body again, with that animal in your arms.

“Don't leave Percy anywhere, he’s fragile and... Well, besides, I already told you that I always slept with him so...” you said, placing the bow tie on that teddy bear, making me frown even more.

“Is the bear going to sleep here? In the bed?” I asked in a dark tone.

I didn't know why I acted that way, but I did, I had the need to do it, as if I myself considered that the bear was exceeding the limits of confidence.

“Yes... It's just that... Well, it may seem silly to you but... I continue, I continue sleeping with him,” you confessed a bit embarrassed, placing the bear delicately under the sheets, in a position that seemed horrible to me, between the two of us. “That way he could protect me.”

Ignoring the gesture of putting that plush to sleep with us, I laughed pleasantly, shaking my head and taking your hand.

“Come on, tesoro… You don't need it anymore, I'll protect you,” I said, moving the bear away from the bed.

You gasped, snatching it from my hands with a nervous, almost scared gesture.

“Um, I'm, I'm sorry Donna but I need it,” you said, looking away. “Well, unless… It's a problem for you… Be more careful, please…”

I blinked several times, trying to listen to your words over and over again and to interpret your serious expression as you returned the animal to that privileged place.

A part of me asked for tranquility, calm. The bear wasn’t something strange. I slept with my dolls, with Angie. I should know how important it could be for a person.

 The other part of my head, the one corrupted by hate, jealousy and madness, did nothing but scream at me to get that pathetic bear away from the place my body should occupy.

“Um, it's not a problem,” I said in a small voice, with an expression that surely didn’t show the intention of those words.

Does she prefer to sleep with that bear? How stupid you are, Donna…

“Taci!” I said out loud, startling you with the abruptness of my words.

Again I wasn’t careful. I let the voices in my head sound real, cloud my senses. Luckily, it was only for a moment, until your soft and reassuring hand rested on my cheek again.

“Honey, I didn't say anything,” you said with a nervous smile, with that tone you used when the shadows stalked me.

I was stupid to think that way, to believe that the pathetic bear could replace me. I wish I weren't condemned to madness, to imagine that, around every corner, there was a threat that sought to take you away from me.

“I'm sorry,” I said, rubbing my eye and kissing the back of your hand.

“Relax, I know the move has been stressful for you but...” you said, taking your hand away and lying down on the bed, guiding me to do the same. “I'm here with you now, my love...”

Your whispers, your words of love always served to soften my sharp soul. The day you were gone... I wouldn't want to continue living. Not even eternal life would be a gift. It would be a constant condemnation, a time in which your loss would never disappear from my wounded heart.

“Certo,” I whispered, forcing a smile, reaching out my hand to remind the softness of your skin, to remind myself that I wasn't living in a dream.

You laughed softly, like every time my imperfect hands touched your perfection. Not even the fact that my hand touched that teddy bear stopped me from enjoying your hand, getting a little closer to kiss your lips slowly.

“Careful, be careful, darling,” you said amused, harassed by the tickling my lips did on your skin. “Percy.”

I moved away as my smile faded, letting your hands leave me to take the plush out from under my body and position it again, ready to sleep.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered with a fake voice, glancing sideways at that one-eyed bear, one that seemed to enjoy its victory. At least that's what my mind interpreted.

It was our first night together, and the joy in my heart hid those irrational jealousies for a moment. Having your body sleeping next to mine, your deep, calm breathing reaching my ears like a lullaby... That was unbeatable, even with that disgusting Percy separating us.

I could barely sleep that night.

I couldn't sleep because I had you by my side, because my mind traveled from joy to sadness, then to fear, the fear as always irrational and almost psychotic. I thought when I dared to close my eye, I would lose you forever.

That didn't happen. I dared to sleep, to test my worries, and I won. Well, almost...

When the morning cold shook my body, forcing it to wake up, the first thing I did was to reach out my hand to you. You weren't there. The warmth of your body had abandoned me.

I quickly turned on the light and confirmed my fears. You weren't there, (Y/N), you were gone. My breathing became dangerously labored and my eye traveled all over the room until I lowered my head.

Of course, Percy was still there, looking at me with its one eye, mocking me. It wasn't what I expected to see when I woke up but at least... At least I knew that you weren't gone, you would never go without that filthy teddy bear.

Nervous because of that cold look, because of that bear's sinister shadow, I turned its head, its body, preventing it from continuing to laugh at me, even though it really wasn't.

“Good morning!” A high-pitched squeal made me stir.

Small, familiar footsteps walked towards the bed, jumping on top of it; my friend, my companion, my Angie.

“Don't shout, Angie...” I murmured, shaking my head. “Where's (Y/N)?” I asked curiously.

The doll laughed amused, climbing onto my lap.

“I think she's taking a shower,” she commented thoughtfully. “Did you sleep well?”

“No,” I said in a cold voice, briefly looking at the bear.

“Of course, of course, your conscience did its work,” Angie said with a haughty voice that made me frown.

“My conscience?” I asked, running a hand through my hair, constantly looking at the door, wanting for you to appear.

“Yes, silly Donna…” the doll said, putting a wooden finger on my nose. “I'm sure you felt guilty for having kicked me out of the room.”

“Oh, Angie…” I sighed, understanding the reason for that attitude. “We've already talked about it, you can't sleep with us. You disturb us.”

“Silly!” my doll shrieked. “That's unfair.”

“Angie, taci,” I said with a darker tone. “You have to accept that (Y/N) now lives with us, so do me a favor and behave, will you?”

“I can't behave with the silly girl who forced me to sleep in the office,” Angie protested, crossing her arms and letting herself fall on the mattress. “It's very cold there, Donna.”

“Stop complaining, you can't feel the cold,” I commented, shaking my head, refocusing my gaze on that bear and sighing.

The doll growled, mockingly imitating my posture until she noticed where my eye was pointing, until she noticed that strange presence on the bed

-Ohhh - she murmured curiously, cautiously approaching that teddy bear. -What is this filthy bear?

“It's Percy,” I said in a small voice, frowning and looking away. “It's (Y/N)’s.”

“Percy? Hello, hello Percy…” the doll said, shaking the bear's paw as if she was really greeting it.

I looked at her and couldn't help but smile at that scene. Angie was a demon, but sometimes she managed to look adorable. I don't know what would have become of me without her.

“Hey, you dirty bear! I'm talking to you!” the puppet said abruptly, indignant at not getting an answer.

I laughed amused, picking up the puppet in my arms and sitting her on my lap, fixing her messy hair affectionately.

“Ti voglio bene, Angie,” I whispered with my soul a bit calmer.

“Oh, cheesy Donna,” she protested, removing my hands from her face. “Hey, that bear is rude, he didn't greet me.”

I laughed again, leaving the doll alone.

“He doesn't talk, Angie, he's not like you,” I explained while the puppet examined the bear again with curiosity, shaking it comically.

“Che palle,” she complained. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, as if she had just realized something. “I can't believe it Donna…”

“Mm?” I muttered, watching the door again in case you appeared.

“So, I, the wonderful Angie, the supreme Angie can't sleep here with you and that pile of dirt that looks like a bear can, right?” she protested, with an indignant pose, not leaving the poor bear alone.

I rolled my eye and sighed, relaxing my face again, turning it slightly dark.

“(Y/N) needs to sleep with it,” I explained looking down, remembering the conversation from the day before, those irrational thoughts that talked about stupid jealousy. “It's like... A talisman for her, or something like that.”

“How old is she, 5?” the doll mocked, laughing evilly. “Isn't she old enough for teddy bears?”

I sighed again, shaking my head.

“I can't judge her, Angie, until she came I slept with you,” I said in a low voice, taking the opportunity to remind myself that there was no problem with Percy.

“It's not the same, I can talk, and move, and be the best friend ever,” Angie said proudly, pointing at herself and sitting next to the stuffed animal. “Oh, look, look, he's missing an eye, like you...”

“Should I find that funny?” I said offended, crossing my arms. “It's (Y/N)'s teddy bear and she sleeps with it, that's all, there's no problem with it.”

“Are you talking to me or to yourself?” Angie asked, comically moving the bear's weak limbs.

I looked at her with a furious sigh, not having an answer for that accusation.

“I…” I stammered confused, but before I could try to defend myself, the footsteps on the wood indicated to me that, finally, you had returned. “Oh, (Y/N)…” I sighed with a smile as you leaned in to kiss me.

“Have you missed me, darling?” you asked laughing, surely due to my usual shower of kisses, a desperate one that tried hard to mark your skin. “Donna…” you said, pushing me away amused, kissing me for the last time and sitting next to me.

“I hope you slept well,” I said, forgetting for a moment about my dark thoughts, dazzled by your smile. “Have you been comfortable?”

“Oh yes, of course,” you said, nodding sincerely. “Besides, I already knew this bed…” you whispered in my ear, making the heat of my body move to my cheeks.

“Ugh!” Angie complained, interrupting unpleasantly. “Oh, my love, darling, give me a kiss, mooch, mooch, mooch…” the doll mocked, pretending to kiss Percy, something that made your smile disappear immediately.

“Hey! Don't touch him!” you screamed, moving nervously to snatch Angie's toy. “Don't touch him!”

“Ahhh!” Angie shrieked, fleeing from the unhinged fury of your words, hiding behind of me.

“(Y/N),” I said with a surprised look. I'd never heard you scream like that, I'd never seen you get that nervous. “Cal-calmati, amore mio…”

“It's not a toy, Angie, it's not for you to play with,” you said nervously, checking if my doll had caused havoc on that damn teddy bear.

“How dare you to yell at me?” Angie asked, peeking comically, pointing at you with her finger. “Say something, Donna, defend me.”

I should have, Angie was right.

“Behave, Angie, please…” I whispered, not sure that was what I meant. You looked at me gratefully, frowning, still holding Percy.

“Donna, you traitor …” the doll hissed moving away from me and getting off the bed. “I will get my revenge! You will pay dearly for your insolence! You and that filthy bear!” she shrieked before leaving the room, saying words that weren’t especially nice.

You shuddered, hugging Percy tightly, an image that my mind distorted horribly, making it not to look cute, but dangerous.

“Donna… She threatened me,” you said in a soft voice, getting a little closer to me with a scared look. “Angie won't hurt me, right?”

“Of course she won’t, tesoro,” I said, trying to reassure you with a sweet hug, with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don't pay attention to her...”

“And Percy?” you asked nervously, moving away from my kisses, from my comfort, and hugging that stupid animal tighter.

I sighed discreetly, shaking my head and drawing your body towards mine again.

“No, tesoro, she won’t hurt Percy either,” I said reluctantly, trying not to make my passivity so obvious.

Luckily you were too preoccupied with the bear to notice the apathy of my words.

That's how our coexistence began, in a strange but satisfactory way. After all, you didn't leave, you stayed with me.

I tried to forget about that bear, I tried to pretend that it didn't accompany us every night, that you hugged it instead of my body. Meditating in the solitude of my workshop, I came to the conclusion that there was no danger in you finding refuge in a childhood companion.

Yes, I stopped thinking about it, or at least I tried. You were so perfect… Seeing you every day, being able to kiss you whenever I wanted, being able to tell you at any time that I loved you, that you were my whole life, was a better gift than the second chance Miranda gave me.

Always so cheerful, so happy, sitting next to me while we read, on my lap whenever I worked on my dolls… I spent all my time with you, all the time I could. The kisses, the caresses, the hugs… Those divine gifts were my new routine. I couldn’t say I got used to it, because I could never do that.

Getting used to it would be trivializing your presence. It would be provoking your kisses to stop causing me that incredible emotion, to stop worsening of my favorite disease, my love for you.

But, although everything was perfect, although the days passed with my body in yours, with my lips adoring yours, there came a time when I began to feel a strange discomfort.

It was like a sensation that made our loneliness, our intimacy disappear. It was like when Angie was around, like when kisses couldn't be diverted into passion. The feeling of being watched got worse as the days went by and, even though I tried to ignore it, I really tried, I couldn't do it.

That bear, that damn bear was always with us. It didn't matter what we were doing. Eating, sleeping, making love, walking... That damn Percy always accompanied us, silently, with that disgusting eye laughing at me.

Living with you was wonderful, but... Yes, I hated that bear.

Your arms hugged it every night, that piece of cotton and fabric had the privilege of feeling your warm body, separating it from mine. It could be an exaggeration, a jealousy that made no sense at all, but… If I couldn't hug you at night, why Percy could? Was he more important than me?

Maybe I was indeed exaggerating. Maybe my mental problems made me see that filthy bear as an enemy and not as one of my lifeless dolls.

Openly admitting that I was jealous of Percy wouldn’t be good for us, I knew it and that's why I decided to pretend that I didn't care about the affection you gave him, that I didn't care about the kisses you gave to that battered fabric, those caresses so different from the ones you gave me.

But time only proved me right, it only fed my darkness. My lap was no longer a place for you, yours was now the bear's favorite place.

It seemed to me that you were distancing yourself, that you gave him much more than you gave me. It could simply be that I didn't pay much attention to you when I made my dolls, I even came to think that it was some kind of revenge for something I didn't know I had done.

I tried, I really tried, but I couldn't take it anymore, not that night.

The kisses were hot, wet. The panting began to fill the bedroom with lust. My heart was beating fast, my hands were traveling over your body. I was in paradise.

“Donna,” you moaned amused by my caresses on your neck, by the way my hands climbed up your legs, ready to touch you, to make you mine, to love you madly…

I laughed, biting your earlobe, moving your body so it rested below mine while my lips began to go down your neck. My mistake was not letting myself get carried away by the voices in my head, by those voices that I began to ignore.

No, the problem was much simpler, I opened my eye.

On top of your bedside table was that filthy bear, the damn Percy. He was always there, always next to you, almost closer to you than me. Maybe that's why I wanted to make love to you desperately that night.

I stopped, catching my breath, staring into that lifeless eye, feeling intimidated, watched, as if that Percy hated me, as if he was capable of feeling the same jealousy as me.

“(Y/N)…” I sighed, sitting up a bit, relaxing the movement of my caresses.

“Donna, why are you stopping? Are you okay?” you asked curiously, running a hand through my hair. I nodded with a frown, looking away from that bear. “Come here, my love…”

Your tender words brought back the desire of my lips kiss yours, but it only lasted a moment, until my stupid eye opened again.

“Mm, no, (Y/N),” I said, moving away again, shaking my head.

You looked at me curiously, with a strange look.

“What's wrong?” you asked with a soft, understanding voice.

You were so perfect…

“It's just that… I, I can't,” I stammered, looking back at that disgusting bear. “It makes me, it makes me nervous,” I said in a low voice, pointing at the teddy bear with my head.

“You mean Percy? Oh, Donna, it's just a teddy bear,” you said amused, pulling my face back to your lips. I pulled away roughly, determined that you would listen to me.

“Can you take it away from there?” I asked, with a cold look. “I can't concentrate.”

“Don't pay attention to him, I promise he won't say anything,” you whispered seductively, silencing my protests with another one of your tender kisses. Not even the softness of your lips could comfort me.

“No, t-take it away from there, tesoro, please,” I asked more nervously, with a frown.

It was a kind request, (Y/N). I don't know why you had to refuse.

“Don't be silly, Donna, just don't look at him,” you said, with a slightly more relaxed look, trying to divert my face from your table. “Don't be childish...”

“Childish?” I asked offended, mouth agape. “Come on, (Y/N), don't be stubborn. Put it down for a moment...”

I reached out my hand to fulfill my wish, but yours stopped me.

“Stop talking nonsense and come here, forget about Percy,” you said with an impatient voice.

Nothing I say is nonsense, (Y/N)

I tried to let myself go again, but I was too nervous.

“Cazzo...” I growled, watched by that lifeless eye, oppressed by the pressure of that smiling expression that would surely laugh victoriously for having won. “Cazzo!” I shrieked, moving to hit the stuffed animal, to throw it to the floor in an unpleasant way.

“What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?” you asked startled, pushing me to get off your body, desperately throwing yourself to the floor to pick up your teddy bear. “Oh, nothing happened to it, right?”

“I can't believe it, (Y/N),” I hissed nervously, shaking my head. “Leave that stupid bear on the floor and come here.”

“It's not stupid,” you said with a look that pierced my chest. “I already told you that it's going to get dirty on the floor.”

“But... You, you...” I murmured, unable to say a word, controlling my increasingly sharp nerves. “Porca puttana...” I hissed, getting up from the bed.

“Where are you going, darling?” you asked, confused by my abrupt attitude. “My love, uh… Why did you do that? You know how important it is to me…”

“You know what, (Y/N)?” I said, turning quickly before walking out the door. Your eyes looked at me scared, terrified. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what I wanted to say, but I knew it wasn't anything good. “I, I'm going to the workshop.”

My cowardice was useful for once. I wanted to tell you so many things… I wanted to talk to you about my absurd jealousy, about my fear about that scruffy stuffed animal taking my place but… I couldn't do it, you would hate me for it and that only meant my fears made sense, that the bear was much more important than me.

I would have to calm down, my hands were shaking. That time I managed to avoid the crisis, but I didn't know how much longer I could bear it.

The next day started like any other, a romantic breakfast, your body on my lap again while I worked… It seemed like that tense moment had caused you to realize what my concern was.

But the reality was very different. That bear was still with us all the time, even closer to you, as if you wanted to protect it from another one of my slaps. You hugged it, held it close to your body. It was even closer than me.

“You know? I've been thinking…” you murmured while we ate. My gaze shifted from Percy, accompanying us, as always, and went to your beautiful eyes.

I nodded with a slightly forced smile, one that stayed alive in the light of your smile.

“Tell me what you've been thinking, tesoro…” I sighed romantically, something that made you smile in the same way

“Mm, I thought we could go for a walk in the woods, it's a really nice day,” you said with that soft tone, with that shy smile.

“Yes, a walk!” Angie exclaimed, startling us both.

“Um, no, just me and Donna,” you corrected in a slightly abrupt but amused manner.

“I want to go too, I want to go too!” the doll protested, tugging hard at my black dress, making me almost choke on my wine.

“Angie, cazzo, lasciami…” I protested, pulling the garment away from her wooden claws. “No, you're not coming.”

“Oh, Donna said a bad word,” Angie mocked, in an exaggerated manner. I shook my head, rolling my eye and smiling at you amusedly.

That smile faded when I saw you look at the bear and shrug. It made me so nervous when you looked at it…

“What did you say? A bad word?” you asked curiously.

“Oh, well, Angie's right, you better not learn those ugly words, sweetheart…” I said, dismissing my outburst with a wave of my hand.

“Donna, silly, mean Donna, I want to go for a walk, I want to go!” the doll shouted again, causing me to sigh tiredly.

“I said no,” I said firmly with a stern tone. “You stay here watching Percy, mm?”

“What?” you asked, startled by my innocent words. “Oh, no, no, Percy is coming with me.”

“That's it, choose the filthy bear over me,” Angie whispered, with her hands on her hips. “Donna, tell her something!”

“Angie… Can we eat in peace?” you asked again, clasping your hands together in a pleading manner.

My gaze darkened again and the hand holding my wine glass began to tremble. I couldn't believe it, I just couldn't believe it.

What was supposed to be a liberating step, without stuffed animals or dolls, was nothing but a continuation of that horrible routine in which Percy was always present.

My hand squeezed the glass so hard that it broke, causing you to moan in surprise.

“Uh, wow, you're strong, huh, honey?” you joked, removing the two glass parts from my hands. “Wait, I'm going to throw this so you don't cut yourself. Percy, keep an eye on her.”

The anger could no longer stay inside me.

“Don't go, (Y/N),” I said, getting up from the table and getting in your way.

“Oh, do you want something from the kitchen?” you asked innocently, emptying the broken glass’ wine into yours.

“No,” I said abruptly, with my teeth clenched, with my fist wanting to break more glasses. “The bear is not coming with us.”

“What? Oh, um, why not?” you stammered, putting the crystals in a basket and looking at me confused. “Of course it’s coming.”

“Of course it’s not. The bear is staying,” I hissed, breathing more and more heavily.

“No, the bear is coming with us,” you said with a fake, nervous smile, as if I was saying something crazy. I wasn't, I was right. “What's wrong with you?”

Your words only increased my nerves. I couldn't stand it anymore. The madness was starting to make me lose control.

“What's wrong with me, huh?!” I screamed furiously, unhinged, letting out that contained rage, that stupid and absurd jealousy. “Qual è il tuo problema!?”

“D-Donna, you know I don't understand Italian,” you whispered cautiously, backing away slowly. “What's wrong with you? You're, you're very nervous…”

“How long are you going to keep laughing at me?” I asked in a lower tone, but just as dangerous. “Tell me, have you decided to make fun of me until I can't take it anymore?”

“What are you talking about? Oh, honey, you're losing your mind again… I'll go get your medicine,” you said nervously, passing by me. A bad idea, since my hand grabbed your arm tightly, pushing you back with a furious gasp.

“Yes, I'm losing my mind… Because of you!” I shrieked, clenching my fists tightly and approaching your side of the table, where that stupid Percy was resting. “I'm fed up, (Y/N)! I’m Fed up!”

“Donna, you're scaring me…” you stammered, grabbing the bear to hug it, to take refuge in it, instead of me. That was the last straw.

“Oh…” I growled furiously, snatching it away from you roughly.

“Hey! Give it back to me!” you shrieked nervously while trying to reach it, something impossible, since I was holding it above my head and you… You weren't exactly the tallest girl in the village… “Donna!”

“No! What's wrong, (Y/N)? If you love this stupid bear that much, what are you doing with me?”

“What?” you asked confused, jumping uselessly to reach your partner. “Donna, stop…. Donna!”

“Basta!” I screamed with more anger, pushing you roughly. “I'm sick of this filthy bear! Sick of you loving him more than me!”

“What the fuck are you saying?” you asked, furious, giving up and shaking your head. “Have you gone completely crazy? I knew you were jealous, Donna, really, I knew you were possessive but to be jealous of my teddy bear… It's too much, even for someone like you.”

“If you don't want me to be jealous, stop putting this stinky thing in my bed, stop hugging him at night!” I shouted, shaking Percy in my hand, noticing how the weak stitching on its arm slowly unraveled.

“I don't think you're the best person to accuse me of that. What about Angie?” you asked, pointing at the puppet, who pointed at herself and shook her head.

“Hey, don't involve me!” the doll protested.

“She's alive, (Y/N), this fucking bear is not, he will never be, he will never love you like I do!”

“You're going crazy. You must relax, give Percy back to me and go with your stupid dolls,” you said in a calm tone, getting a little closer to me. “When you get over that stupid craziness, we can talk calmly.”

I narrowed my eye, still breathing furiously as you extended your hand towards mine.

“Come on, Donna, be a good girl and give it back to me,” you said, with a demanding tone that ended up driving me crazy.

I growled, lowering the stuffed animal to your height but immediately removing it from your grip.

“Do you want me to give it back to you?” I asked with a dark look that was surely terrifying.

You nodded, you didn't seem moved.

“Come on, Donna, give it to me,” you said with an impatient gesture.

“Cazzo!” I screamed, grabbing the bear with both hands and doing the worst thing I could do, ripping it, pulling at those weak seams to tear it in half, to tear apart your most precious possession and throw it to the floor with a grunt. “Here is il tuo orsaccchiotto di merda!”

“Donna!” you screamed, exchanging pride for the deepest sadness. “No, no, no!”

Screaming, you bent down to pick up the remains of the animal, bursting into tears that tore my soul apart completely. My madness didn't allow me to pity you, not even for a second. I thought I had triumphed.

“Why…?” you sobbed, trying to put the bear back together in a pathetic way. The cotton was sticking out of the tear and one of the arms didn't fit anymore. “Percy…”

I just looked at you, my gaze still dark.

“Donna,” you sobbed, hugging the parts of the teddy bear. “You are a monster,” you whispered, staring me straight in the eye, tears running down your cheeks.

You didn’t say anything else, not even that terrible insult made me stir until you ran out up the stairs and locked yourself in the guest room among horrible cries.

“Oh, Donna, Donna…” Angie sighed, coming closer when she saw the white on my knuckles disappear and I began to realize.

“Oh… What, what have I done?” I said, as if I had just woken up from a nightmare, running a trembling hand over my forehead, looking at a piece of cotton on the floor. “No…”

“Donna, my friend…” Angie sighed, hands on hips. “…You screwed it up.”

Angie was right.

My absurd jealousy, my sick mind forced me to break Percy, to take away your childhood friend. I hated myself, I screamed, I yelled, but none of that could ease my conscience nor heal my mistake.

You stopped talking to me, almost looking at me. You didn't even sleep with me. I had lost you.

But it wasn't a quick loss, you didn't abandon me completely. You were still in my house, you hadn't left me. What was initially a relief became the worst of my tortures. I could see you, but not have you. I could hear you, but not talk to you, I could look at your lips, but I couldn't kiss them.

I tried, I tried by all means to apologize, to beg you to forgive me, but it wasn't enough, it never would be.

“(Y/N),” I said when, as always, you sat down to eat with me. Your gaze was cold, annoyed, it seemed like you really hated me. My voice was soft, sad, apologizing with every word I said. It was of no use.

You didn't look at me or greet me. You just poured yourself a glass of water.

“L-look, I, I made lasagna… It, it's your favorite dish,” I said shyly, serving her a perfect piece that she reluctantly accepted.

“Do you expect me to thank you?” you asked, ignoring my gaze again. At least it was the first time in days that I heard you speak.

“(Y/N), per favore… Listen to me…” I said nervously, with a trembling voice and a tear in my eye.

“I don't want to listen to you,” you said in a gruff voice, dragging the chair. “If you don't leave, I'll go to my room.”

“Forgive me, I beg you, I'm, I'm suffering, tesoro, you don't know how much I am…” I said in a more pathetic tone, reaching out my hand to touch yours. You stood up with a cold look, without a smile, without the sparkle in your eyes.

“What do you know about suffering? You have no fucking idea about people's feelings, Donna. I'm going to my room, I'm not hungry,” you growled, getting up from the chair and walking back to the stairs.

“(Y/N)…” I sobbed when I lost sight of you, resting my forehead on my hand, letting the tear I was holding fall onto the table.

As if saying your name summoned you, you approached again, hurriedly, picking up your plate of food with an embarrassed look, making a proud gesture as you took that lasagna to your room.

A strange smile formed on my face as I shook my head. At least you were still enjoying my food.

“Is everything okay?” Angie asked, climbing onto my lap.

“No, it's not okay at all,” I said hoarsely, pouring myself some wine. “I'm losing her, Angie…”

“Well, you've broken her childhood teddy bear and hurt her feelings, you can't be surprised by her reaction,” the doll said. She was right.

“I don't know what I can do… I'm desperate,” I murmured, playing with my food. “I'll lose her forever, because of me.”

“You gain nothing by regretting it, silly Donna, do something,”  Angie said, guiding my face so I looked at her.

“What? I've apologized in every possible way, I've begged her and… It, it didn't help,” I explained while the doll listened to me, pretending boredom.

“If you think that by saying sorry you're going to fix things up, you're more stupid than you look, Donna,” she said, making me growl furiously, pushing her off my lap.

“Angie…” I hissed dangerously while a word stuck in my mind: fix. “Oh, wait… I think I got it…”

“What, Donna? What are you thinking?”

“Come, I need your help.”

The solution came to my head like a fresh breeze. Yes, it was true that saying sorry was absurd, that it wouldn't fix anything but… That only happened when there was nothing to fix. Fixing my mistakes wasn't something abstract, metaphorical. I could fix everything, really fix it. If I wanted to get you back, I should fix Percy.

With Angie's unmatched help, and with you not seeming upset with my doll, I managed to distract you so I could go up to your new room and get back what was left of Percy.

I spent two days in the workshop, without eating, without sleeping, searching for every piece of fabric, recomposing every part of that damn bear. If it had to be with us so I could enjoy your love, so be it.

Two new eyes, a restored bow tie, reinforced seams, clean and soft fabric, a rebuilt smile, he looked brand new.

“Well, there you are…” I murmured, running a hand over my forehead, yawning from exhaustion. “Welcome back, Percy. What do you think, Angie?”

“Oh…” the doll murmured. “It's amazing, Donna, I'm sure (Y/N) is going to love it.”

“Either that or she'll hate me forever… Is she upstairs?”

The doll nodded.

Slowly, I went up the elevator, with the animal hidden behind my back, walking slowly towards you, who seemed nervous, looking under the furniture, at least until you saw me.

“You! You crazy nutcase! What have you done with Percy?” you shouted at me, pushing me by the shoulders. I didn't move, I just shook my head. “It wasn't in its place... You threw it in the trash, right?”

“No,” I whispered with a hoarse voice, trying to keep my composure despite your angry pushes.

“Yeah, right, stop pretending, Donna. I'm sure you've gotten rid of it, how long do you plan to make me suffer?” you asked, pushing me harder and harder. “Talk, you crazy bitch! Tell me where Percy is!”

I didn't answer, no matter how much my heart hurt from your insults. I simply moved the bear from my back, holding it with both hands and showing it to you, who immediately froze, blinking several times.

“What…? Percy?” you asked confused, shyly taking the restored teddy bear. “What…?”

“Hello, (Y/N),” –I said without moving my lips, pretending to be the animal. You looked at me out of the corner of your eye and shook your head.

“It's, it's incredible… It's, it's like I remember it when my parents… Gods… What have you done?” you asked, looking at the clean bow tie, running a finger over its two now perfect eyes. The smile was starting to appear on your face.

“Donna fixed me up. She put a lot of effort into it. Look at me, I finally have two eyes,” Percy said again while I looked at you with a sad expression.

“I see…” you laughed with a sincere smile. “Look at the seams… It’s, it’s perfect…”

“Donna loves you so much. She’s tried so hard to fix me up to make you happy. She didn’t want to hurt you. She was just being silly, were you, Donna?” Percy said.

 I nodded slowly.

You shook your head and laughed amused, leaving the bear on a table and walking towards me, cupping my face in your hands.

“Donna, my love…” you whispered, with tears in your eyes. “Honey…”

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to make you suffer… I, I just…”

You interrupted me the best way you knew, with one of your tender kisses, one that almost made me cry, one that you hadn’t given me in too long.

“I behaved like a fool too,” you said, playing with my hands. “I know the whole Percy thing was hard for you, Donna, but… Don’t, don’t worry, we’ll both make an effort to be a bit better, okay? I love you so much, my love…”

“I love you, (Y/N)…”

[chiisana-sukima]

Hey so this post just came up on my dash and its an interesting perspective for sure. I was wondering if youd feel inclined to share your thoughts on it but no pressure ofc feel free to ignore.

https://www.tumblr.com/zudilio/648738136098275328/the-thing-is-that-i-miss-the-early-seasons?source=share

Yeah, I saw it on my dash too and considered reblogging with comments, but it's three years old and the OP has said in other posts that they're a "Sam ignorer", so I figured they wouldn't be appreciative. Also, to a certain extent, "they should've given the plot points I don't like to the character I don't care about" is just a matter of taste, so there's not a ton to say about that part anyways.

As far as the "Sam is like John because at the start of the show he's driven by anger and his need for revenge" part, my thoughts on it are here, and @ardentpoop and @aliusfrater have excellent meta here as well.

Leaving aside the piece where I think the OP is wrong about Sam though, I do agree with them that Dean's character arc was mismanaged, and I sympathize with them and all the other Dean girls (gn) who got stuck with *waves vaguely at spn in general*. I agree with OP that Dean isn't an inherently angry person. I don't believe inherently angry people exist, but even beyond that, I don't think the intended reading of spn is that Dean's story is about anger. Gamble said at some point very early on that on the inside Dean is a frightened little boy who never had the chance to grow up, and I do think spn carries that thread through the seasons pretty well all the way to s15, where it attempts (with not-great success imo) to resolve it.

Unfortunately, I also think that spn's failure to resolve Dean's character arc satisfactorily was inevitable, and that the things that attract many fans like OP, who identify with Dean, are the same things that made resolving his issues impossible given the set-up. Just as Sam has a realistic case of poorly-controlled, chronic dissociative/classic PTSD (with psychosis during s7 and some CPTSD-like features) and doesn't have the resources to manage it beyond bare-bones survival, Dean has pretty realistic untreated, chronic CPTSD/BPD without the resources to even begin to manage it in a way that doesn't destroy his own life and the lives of the people around him. Dean's violence stems ultimately from his childhood environment, sure, but the person he is by the time we meet him in s1 has severe attachment issues, difficulty regulating his emotions, poor distress tolerance, black and white thinking in a job where black and white thinking results in victimizing people based on factors they have no control over, and most of all, no real concept of boundaries whatsoever. The cause was for sure his childhood, but the present of spn is just a very symptomatic adult. His mental health issues--and Sam's too--are the kinds of chronic illnesses that never go away and that people struggle with over their entire lifespans.

I don't want to be overly negative; many people with mental illnesses this severe do learn to manage them well and live full and happy lives (I am, within reasonable limits, one of them). But it's hard. And longstanding, deeply-rooted patterns of thoughts, beliefs, and behavior don't change without community resources, considerable effort, and for most people, years of trial and error. Spn's main premise is, for some wild reason, that the problems Sam and Dean encounter are metaphorically equivalent to real life problems normal people encounter all the time, but that in the spn world, all of the resources real world people have available to help them are impossible to access, except guns and torture. It's s13 before spn manages to get Sam and Dean into ONE SESSION of therapy with someone they can tell the truth to, and by then, we get this:

Dean is being a lot less unrealistic here than one might think, and yes, this picture will end badly in real life too.

Since the finale, a lot of fans have said things like "Dean deserved to go to therapy and get better" or "spn thinks if you have trauma, you should kill yourself about it", but deserving is fake. We in the real world live in a The Good Place universe. There's no fair calculus for who "deserves" anything. Everyone both deserves health and happiness and love and a comfortable life and also deserves nothing because there are other people who have nothing.

And unlike ours, the spn universe is not a The Good Place universe. It's worse. The writers of spn are and always have been profoundly ungenerous. The whole universe is built on victim-blaming and bullshit calculi of what crimes deserve what punishments and who should or shouldn't mete them out. In the spn universe, Dean is lucky. He had not one, but two BPD favorite persons, and he treated them both like shit, and they still both loved him and wanted to be with him and will be with him in the afterlife, presumably continuing to have the same intense, volatile relationships they've always semi-tolerated.

I like to pretend that maybe Sam, Dean and Cas can all read The Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook on Heaven's version of archive.org and take it to heart, or that maybe Sam grew some boundaries in the years he lived without Dean that he can insist on hard enough and long enough for Dean to get a reparative relationship out of, and they can all after-live happily ever after. But the Dean that was alive during the 15 years of spn hadn't done that work yet, and the outcome he got was--if one subscribes to "deserving" as a concept--better than what he "deserved". If you hit your partner, you deserve to be left. If you hold a gun on them, you deserve for it to go off and kill them by mistake and you never see them again (although of course they don't deserve to die). It doesn't matter who the "angry" partner in the relationship is. Any sane person in this universe or the spn one should be angry a lot of the time, because both universes suck. Not to beat a dead horse with a flowchart but:

image source

The violence is the bastard. The emotions are not.

[gulliblelemon]

Chapter 6

Everything is unravelling. Felice is a boss, August is a dick, Wille and Simon are ridiculously in love, and someone makes a surprise entrance.

"What, just because I’ve got this shitty fucking job that literally no one else can do, I’m not allowed to fall in love? Because how else am I supposed to do that, Felice? When do I ever get a chance to live a normal fucking life? And then when he leaves? And goes ashore? And I’m stuck on this fucking prison forever? What—”  But he couldn’t finish his sentence. Great, gasping sobs tumbled from his lips, before tears had even started falling. Wide-eyed, Felice hurried around her desk and crouched beside him, her hand on his knee. He placed his own over it and squeezed as he tried to get his breathing back under control. Wet rivulets were now tracking down his cheeks and dripping from his chin onto their clasped hands. “Wille…” she said, voice gentle. “You said— Are you… Are you in love with him?” Swallowing several times before answering, Wille said, “Of course I’m in love with him. How could I not be?” His voice was shaking, but he’d never been more sure of anything in his life. “I think I probably started falling in love with him the first day I met him. Felice, he’s perfect.”

Read the 6th and final chapter on AO3 or start from the beginning.

[jtks-gh05t-g1rl]

My everything.

part two

(also on my Wattpad)

warnings: swear words, mc getting hit on, death(disclaimer before).

..... I woke up, light peaking through, shining on my face. As I sat up in bed I noticed a note and uniform hung on the closet door.

the note read: "This is your new uniform. Please get dressed and come downstairs to the dining room for breakfast.. If any adjustments need to be made, please inform me or Lord Diavolo, signed, Lucifer."

▪︎Leviathan's POV▪︎

There she was. Walking down the stairs into the kitchen was the woman of my dreams, literally. Last night, after I showed her the room she's staying in, I went back to my room and fell asleep immediately. That wasn't normal, at least not for me. I always stay up until the early morning playing video games and watching anime, but that night was different. During my slumber, I dreamt about MC. It wasn't a normal one. It was honestly terrifying. More of a nightmare if anything.

(mention of death) °°°°°° there had been loud noises and yelling coming from the front entrance of the house. I assumed it was my brother's fighting again, until I heard Mammon..

"BELPHEGOR, I SWEAR ON MY LIFE I WILL MURDER YOU!"

Belphie? he's supposed to be in the human realm..

Mammons voice sounded coarse, serious, and tearful.

I blanked out for a moment. Before I knew it, I was watching as Mammon was being held back by Lucifer and Beelzebub.

Mammon became weak and lost balance. He fell to the floor, still screaming. His fall led my eyes to MC laying on the ground, unconscious, bruises on her neck, eyes glazed over.

My stomach dropped. My heart began to palpatate, beating out my chest.

I started to get closer to her body. I got just close enough to see her colorless face.

°°°°°°°° I woke up right when I got a look at her face. The image is engraved in my mind. Every time I blink, I see her.

But here she is, standing in front of me smiling and waving.

"Good morning, MC. How was your first night?"

"Good morning! It was actually pretty good, I wasn't expecting to be able to sleep." "Oh, I do have a question, though."

"Yes?"

"What about my family and friends? I'm still not completely sure if I trust everything going on right now. It would help a lot to still have contact with them."

"Ah," "we have sent letters and gotten in contact with your family and school to let them know about all of this." "As for your contact with your family and friends, you should still be able to contact them on your D.D.D. "

"Ok, cool. I would go insane without them." she placed her hand on the chair next to me "Is this seat taken?"

I looked up and shook my head slightly. Why would she want to sit next to me? Maybe she was actually interested in talking about TSL, or maybe she's just going to use me to get closer to my brother's. That's happened a few times, so I wouldn't be surprised.

Mammon sat down next to her, ruining my chances of talking to her. Not that I would've anyway, but it would've been nice to have the option.

Breakfast was served, and everyone was talking and smiling, but I couldn't stop thinking about the dream I had. ..... Why would I have a dream like that? .... I've had nightmares, but never any that bad. ... maybe it's a sign? .. or a warning? . . "psst, Levi, you ok, hun?" asmo broke me out of my thoughts.

"Huh - oh yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure? You looked a little stressed."

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm just thinking about the dream I had last night."

"Oooh, well, what was it?"

"I'll tell you later."

After breakfast, we all started cleaning up.

"Leviathan, You and MC have the same schedules, so you will be showing her to classes."

I nodded and turned back to MC.

"Well, you ready?"

"Yes, sir!" "wanna tell me about TSL now?"

°°°°°°° MC and I made it to RAD with about 10 minutes left to spare until class started.

We were walking in the hallway talking. Another demon came up to us looking smug and confident.

"Hey. You're new, right?" "I thought you were cute and was wondering if you were single?"

he playfully smacked my arm with the back of his hand.

"You don't mind right, man?" The crusty demon said. My face was covered in pure disgust.

"She's okay, thanks."

"Yo, help me out here, bro."

"Actually, we're both good." I grabbed MC's arm and began to walk away.

"Wait a second, I want to hear from the lady." He looked at MC.

"I'm gonna have to pass on that offer." MC said awkwardly

"Aw, c'mon cutie," "If you're going to say no, you gotta at least give me a reason."

"You want me to be honest?" She looked at him with innocent eyes.

"Hit me"

"Well, I would rather have my nails ripped out and shoved into my eyes than date you. Plus, you're pushy." That same look remained on her face.

MC began to walk past him, I followed. She was trying to hold back laughter.

"What a great start to my first day." The girl said, giggling.

"I know, right? In all seriousness, I promise not everyone here is like that."

We made it to our first class. I spent the time trying to help MC figure out school stuff.

(look who finally posted lol)

[libbytwq]

"Recieving Answers" part 1

next part: N/A

~♤◇♡♧~

SMGL:E walks slowly out of SMG1 and SMG2’s house, being careful to shut the door without making much noise. They let out a sigh in relief as the door shuts almost silently.

They look around and gaze up at the night sky. The stars were gorgeous. But now was not the time.

SMGL:E pulls out a small scrap of paper from his jacket pocket. Karen had found it this morning and handed it to her when SMGL:E stepped into McDonald’s. Neither knew where it came from.

It read:

Dearest SMGL:E,

Meet me by your USB. I may have the answers you’re looking for.

♡ An old friend

It was awfully sketchy, and awfully vague. But the idea of having closure to the gaps in his memories was worth every second, so SMGL:E speed walked in the direction of their USB.

The cool night air brushed their face and ruffled the fluff on their tanuki tail and blew through their fluffy ears. SMGL:E wore a serious and determined look on her face.

Closure... knowing about what happened before arriving in the Mushroom Kingdom... this is exactly everything SMGL:E could ever want!

Several little twinkles appear in the corner of SMGL:E’s line of vision. A pink one, a teal one, and a blue one. She sighs. They are used to these sparkles appearing at random points throughout the day and don’t want them to bother her now, not when she’s so close to having answers.

From the corner of his eye, she sees the teal spark whizz in front of her in some sort of shape, and for a moment, he thinks he saw the teal sparkle write a word, before it disappears as fast as it appeared.

Stop.

SMGL:E frowns and continues speed walking in the direction of his USB. They will ignore it.

The blue spark whizzes in front of him, just like the teal one, and forms another word.

Don’t.

SMGL:E groans and picks up the pace. They maneuver their way into the forest their USB is located.

Whatever these stupid sparkles are, they are trying to stop her from finding answers.

She will ignore them. They keep going.

The pink spark doesn’t form any words, but whizzes around her in speedy circles, and feels what feels like a hand grab their shoulder, but there’s nothing there, just pink sparkles, and it’s not enough to pull SMGL:E back. But it’s enough to startle him and yank her shoulder away.

They groan loudly, stop running, and yell out into the night, to wherever these sparkling entities are around them.

“Whatever you... things are, I want you to leave me alone for just this moment!!” SMGL:E shouts, frustrated. “This is my one chance at finding out a hint on who I actually am, I need answers, and you won’t take this away from me!”

They stop yelling, and wait for any type of response.

Nothing. No sparkles.

SMGL:E sighs in mild relief and wanders into the clearing of the forest, and spots the USB.

But there’s a person standing in front of it, their back facing her. Someone who looks familiar, but still someone she’s never met in their life.

They wore a dark gray vest and a white collared shirt, and long, sleek, black gloves that reached their elbows. They wore dark pants and knee high, sleek boots. Their hair was black and sleek, and in the silhouette of the night, they looked like they had fluffy gray ears, similar to the fluffy ears SMGL:E has, except her ears are purple.

SMGL:E swallows nervously and hesitantly steps closer. They clear their throat. Here goes nothing.

“...You wanted to see me?” Her voice wavered as she spoke.

The figure turned around and SMGL:E sees their face for the first time.

A familiar face, yet so unfamiliar. They had a singular curved, dark gray horn just above their forehead in the direct middle, and three eyes, two in normal spots and one on their forehead, with black in the spots the whites should be. Their pupils were a glowing white color, and they stared at SMGL:E, and a smile curves from their lips.

“I was hoping for the day I’d get to see you again,” they said. “I’ve missed you.”

They walk towards SMGL:E and grins. They were shorter in stature compared to SMGL:E.

SMGL:E tilts their head, a little nervous.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are. When I crash-landed here, my memories were all out of whack-”

“That’s perfectly okay!” They say, the smile not leaving their face. It was comforting, but also... ominous, but SMGL:E wasn’t sure how. “I don’t blame you for your memories being a little fuzzy. It must be awfully terrifying not knowing what happened prior to this… but I’m here to offer you some answers.”

SMGL:E’s face lights up and she sighs.

“Thank you… what’s your name?”

The mysterious person smiles a soft smile, their glowing white pupils twinkling lightly.

“Ignatius.”

SMGL:E was a little stunned.

Ignatius… that sounded… extremely familiar…

I.

SMGL:E had a habit of associating colors and words and objects and creatures with specific letters of the alphabet. I, J, K, L, M, N…

Something clicked in her brain.

These letters were people.

And Ignatius was the I.

They matched the exact vibe SMGL:E associated with I.

The one SMGL:E didn’t like thinking about for too long. The affection, yet the dread… the feeling of being able to meld with this person perfectly, yet the feeling like she will crumble if she allows that to happen… the one they associated with black and gray and white… the one they associated with the number three… it all made sense!

SMGL:E smiles softly, mildly nervously.

“…I don’t exactly remember you… but I remember your vibe…” SMGL:E says softly.

Even if the vibe was a little ominous, having some semblance of familiarity is a relief.

Ignatius smiled softly.

“What a relief… now for your introduction…”

SMGL:E glances around slowly, mildly confused.

“…You already know my name..? You wrote it on the paper you got to me…” SMGL:E says, tilting his head.

Ignatius chuckles under its breath.

“Maybe so, but you don’t know your name, now do you?”

SMGL:E feels even more confused.

“I do, though?” SMGL:E responds, puzzled. “It’s literally SMGL-“

“SMGLore.”

SMGL:E stops as Ignatius cuts her off.

Did… did they just…

She looks at Ignatius stunned, who just looks at her with a knowing smile.

“Your name, before your memory got wiped, was SMGLore,” it says, walking closer to them. “That’s what the L stands for. Lore.”

SMGL:E feels their heart race.

Lore…

SMGLore…

That was the name on the tip of her tongue that they were seemingly always unable to say. Every time she tried to say it, she glitches out a bit, as if he had forgotten it, despite not forgetting it.

“…SMGLore..?”

SMGL:E gasps when they realize they are able to say it.

“…oh my goodness… Lore… that’s me!”

She grows giddy and ecstatic. They can remember his name! After so long, she could remember what the L stood for!

Ignatius gazed up at SMGL:E lovingly, smiling softly. It had been a hot minute since it has seen her smile like that.

SMGL:E turns to Ignatius, beaming happily, before going to his chaotic performance grin.

“Now I can properly introduce myself to everyone I meet!” they proclaim loudly. “IT IS I, SUPER MEME GUARDIAN LORE!!”

The yelling echoes throughout the forest, and Ignatius chuckles softly.

“Do you want to keep the “Error” in your name, too?” it asks. “That’s what the E stood for in SMGL:E, right?”

She grins and shrugs.

“Eh. It gets to be a bit of a mouthful, y’know? Maybe I can drop the ‘Error’ sometimes.”

Ignatius chuckles, and SMGL:E’s smile softens. Despite this being the first time since they lost her memories they have heard Ignatius laugh, it feels like he’s heard it dozens of times before.

Ignatius steps closer to SMGL:E and puts both it’s hands on her shoulders and gazes up at them lovingly.

SMGL:E feels their heart skip a beat in his chest, and they blush lightly.

“Ignatius, hang on, what’re you-“

Before she could finish the sentence, Ignatius had pulled SMGL:E by the shoulders into a kiss.

SMGL:E freezes and doesn’t reciprocate the kiss immediately. Part of her felt horrified that this was happening, but part of them felt like this was right and perfect and wanted it to continue, and yet there was another part that felt ashamed for thinking that, because he wanted to save her first kiss for Karen, and now it had gotten pretty much stolen.

SMGL:E pries Ignatius off of her and breaks the kiss.

“W-Woah woah woah, hang on… what was that for?”

Ignatius was a little stunned when she parted the kiss, but composes itself.

“…Right, you don’t remember…” they say, smiling softly. “…We loved each other, Lore, y’know. Before your memories got lost.”

SMGL:E blushes and sighs.

“…Okay, maybe we were a couple back before I ended up here, but even if you’ve known me all your life, as far as I’m concerned, I’ve only known you for two minutes, so having my first kiss stolen by someone I’ve only known for two minutes is… yeesh…”

Ignatius’s eye twitches.

“That was far from your first kiss though, darling…” they say, a loving smile on its face.

SMGL:E blushes and frowns.

“Okay, whatever, but that felt like my first kiss…” they grumble softly. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but I was saving it for someone that wasn’t you.”

Ignatius’s smile falters for a moment, but quickly regains themselves.

“Someone else..? Who else could there possibly be?” they say.

SMGL:E almost names Karen, but feels the colorful sparkles from earlier return. SMGL:E feels a little frustrated that they’ve returned despite her yelling at them, but doesn’t show it on her face. Ignatius can’t seem to see the sparkles, which is a bit of a relief.

SMGL:E feels the phantom hand of the pink sparkle gently tug on their arm, almost as if it wanted her to stop speaking. SMGL:E sighs and decides not to say Karen’s name.

“It’s none of your business,” he says. “I came here for answers about my past, not small talk about my love life. I don’t want to focus on our history quite yet… I just want to know what’s going on. Tell me where I came from, what am I, how I got here… everything you know…”

Ignatius looks a little less happy than it was earlier, but smiles softly anyway. SMGL:E swears she saw a flicker of Ignatius’s hair drift up like a piece of ash from a fire into the night.

From the corner of her eye, SMGL:E sees the three sparkles whizzing around, the pink, teal and blue all writing out a word.

Unreliable.

SMGL:E pays it no mind and looks down at Ignatius again, who smiles a charming, yet eerie smile.

“…Very well. I will tell you all I know.”

end of part 1

~♤◇♡♧~

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Gym Membership - Part 47 (Crosshair)

Summary: Crosshair thinks back to his argument with Tech

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

I hope everyone is having a good week. I know some having been dealing with a lot of stress or difficulties and I just want to say that you are all doing amazing. If you got up out of bed, you're doing amazing. If you opened your eyes but stayed in bed, you're doing amazing. Even if all you did was turn over and go right on sleeping, it's okay. You're amazing. The fact that you are still alive and surviving in this crazy world is amazing. Don't give up.

Love oo

Warnings: Annoyance, grief, anger at oneself, cheating, coma, drinking, guilt, feelings of disgust of oneself. I think that's it, if I miss any warnings, please let me know.

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“Crosshair, when it came to the wedding between you and Avery, what was that like? I imagine it was on base.”

“It was.” He turned to look at Tech, wondering where this conversation was going.

“Who officiated it?”

“What?”

“Officiated, who did it?”

“The Chaplain.”

“Hmmm”

“What?” Cross started to grow more irritated by these incessant questions from his younger brother.

“Just wondering, Kamarie and I did think about a military wedding, but truthfully we would’ve been happy with any wedding…” Tech’s voice trailed off as he thought back to the love of his life. He missed her every day, probably more than he would ever dare to admit.  

“Oh.” Crosshair’s annoyance diminished a little until Tech started up again. 

“So how did you guys live on base? I mean you were going on missions, and from what I understand she didn’t go on too many, but she did have her own missions as well. Was that difficult to deal with?”

He ran his hand over his head, and stood moving away from Tech, before he lost his cool on his younger brother. “Can we talk about something else?” 

“Why?”

“Tech, move on.”

“No.”

Crosshair turned to look at Tech, “Excuse me?”

“You never talk about Avery, about your marriage, about anything.”

“Maybe that’s by design.”

“And maybe you’re hiding.”

“Tech, mind your business.”

“Why are you so afraid to talk about your life with Avery?”

Crosshair’s patience had worn thin as he looked at his younger brother, his restraint crumbled as he glared at Tech. “I don’t feel the need to discuss my marriage Tech! It’s as simple as that. Avery was a brief moment of happiness in my life. A joke life handed me, making me believe for one tiny moment I could possibly be that happy, have a chance at something normal. Something perfect…” Crosshair swallowed the warm bubble that rose in his throat, as anger replaced the pain, “Only to have it yanked away. Do you honestly think I want to keep reliving it? No! So I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!”

Tech stood from his seat, shaking his head not so much in disappointment as in sorrow for his older brother. “If Avery was here now, do you think she’d appreciate the way you speak about her? The way you refuse to share what you two had with your family?” He adjusted his glasses, before letting out a sigh, “Life is full of disappointments, and yes sometimes it comes and snuffs out the one thing that brings you joy and peace and makes you feel complete. However, for all the pain that I’ve gone through, I can’t imagine not talking about Kamarie or remembering my times with her; because if I didn’t talk about her, it would mean those moments of happiness never happened. Those thousands of kisses we shared in such a short span of time, didn’t occur. All those conversations and shared laughter we had were a dream.” Tech shook his head, as he poured out his thoughts, “I can’t have that; I can’t let those precious memories die, simply because it hurt too much. Crosshair, I know our circumstances are different, and what you had with Avery can’t even compare to what I had with Kamarie, however I do understand where you’re coming from. However, the pain won’t go away if you simply ignore it.”

Crosshair took in a deep breath as the warm liquid began to fill his vision, “If you understand me, just agree with me and move on.”

Just before he shifted towards the exit, Tech called out to Crosshair one more time, closing the distance between them as he gently gripped his shoulder, “Just because I understand you, doesn’t mean I have to agree with you. You are causing yourself more harm by locking away your pain, Crosshair. As your vod, I’m concerned about you. Don’t hide from the pain. Don’t hide from your past. Let her live.”

He could still see Tech’s glistening eyes, as unshed tears welled up in his eyes as he put the lid back on Layla’s toilet. 

Tech did understand him, better than any of his brothers, however what he failed to grasp was the guilt he’d been feeling. The amount of pain he carried, as he reflected on the way he lived his life while his wife was in a coma. Finding the comfort he could during those years, when he wasn’t at work, or looking after Avery, he was either diving to the bottom of a bottle or sleeping around with the first warm body he could find, just to dull the pain of her lying there and unable to do anything to help her. 

There was no way Tech could understand, the reason his guilt kept him from talking about Avery, especially to his vod who’d been the epitome of a devoted partner especially during Kamarie’s last days. Whereas, he’d been unfaithful the entire time Avery entered into a coma, what was worse, was the fact it hadn’t phased him until she passed. And now that guilt of being an unfaithful, despicable husband was eating him up even more as his eyes had lingered over Layla. 

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[amostimprobabledream]

Falling in Reverse (Dazai Osamu x Reader) Part Two

I meant to write more of this like...two years ago? My bad. I hope you enjoy despite that! <3 -

This is fine.

You kept on thinking it as you sat there, trying to pay attention.

You told yourself to stop it. Stop nitpicking, finding fault with every little thing and refusing to live in the moment for a solitary fucking second. You could feel your fingers twitching with desperation to check your messages, and nearly sit on your hands in an effort to stop yourself. You poured your focus into acting normal instead, nodding in the right places, making encouraging noises, keeping your facial expression open and inviting instead of sliding into boredom or irritation…

It's a fucking lot of work.

The guy – his name was Ken-something, he said what it was when you sat down but the bar was kind of loud and the chance to get him to repeat it somehow slipped past you – was good-looking enough but he wasn’t especially interesting to talk to, and he kept looking around the bar like he was expecting something. He asked the basic questions, but you got the feeling he wasn’t really listening when you answered. The only time he did seem intrigued was when you mentioned your job. You kept it vague, since the Armed Detective Agency wasn’t popular with some people, and he’d lost interest when you clarified it was just a desk job.

“So you don’t get to get out much?” he asked, with a lopsided smirk like he’d made some hilarious sexual innuendo you hadn’t got yet.

“Oh, you know, I run errands sometimes.” You replied, pretending to think hard about the response. It's actually true – Ranpo had you bringing him so many snacks it’s like he thought you were the goddamn Easter Bunny, yet you could never quite bring yourself to say ‘no’ to him. “Thrilling stuff, I know.”

 “That’s too bad. Maybe you need someone to show you some thrills, you know?”

A smirk accompanied that, and you dutifully waited for the butterflies in your stomach, or a flicker of intrigue, or something, but your ardour remained stubbornly cool. Frustration bubbled inside you, and you took a big gulp of your drink. It was like you were jamming keys you knew fit into the ignition of a car, but every time you turned it, the engine would not turn on, no matter how much you tried to will it to life.

But going home would feel like quitting. Like admitting defeat. Like you're really saying: I'm so obsessed with my co-worker who is both terrible and far too good for me that I can't give anyone else a chance. Sad, huh?

“Excuse me for a sec,” you said instead, flashing a smile you didn’t feel, rising to your feet. “I’ll be right back.”

He waved a hand in acknowledgement, and you could tell he was watching you as you headed for the ladies’ room, the heat of it making you strangely uneasy, knowing his eyes were going down your body, cataloguing. For sure he was looking at your ass in the dress.

The ladies’ room was blessedly quiet, and you splashed some water on your face, staring down your reflection, hands braced either side of the sink.

What am I doing here? You thought, and sighed.

It’s just a lacklustre date. You’ve gone on them before and usually put no further thought into them once you took off your makeup and outfit and slipped into bed. There are millions of people in the world, the odds of being instantly compatible with someone seemed like a rare enough thing not to take too personally.

But looking at yourself in your red dress, your hair washed and makeup still nice (if getting slightly smudgy – most of your lipgloss had already transferred to the rim of your glass), you didn’t feel like some kind of sexy badass like you’d been going for.

You just felt kind of stupid, to be honest.

You really thought you did something, didn’t you? A nasty inner voice sneered at you. You thought this was like a movie where you could put on a slutty dress, have an amazing date with a cute guy and magically cure your shitty life? You thought this would fix anything?

You hated that the bitchy voice was right.

“You stupid bitch.” You muttered out loud, your reflection mouthing the words back at you, and you shook your head and exited the toilets before somebody walked in on the stranger talking to herself.

Perhaps the drinks are hitting you a little harder than you thought, because a vague fuzz of light-headedness descended on you as you walked towards your booth, and you decided that you liked it. It took the edge of your self-consciousness and made you forget how this wasn’t the kind of dress you usually wore, or that you were going on a stupid date to get over your feelings for a co-worker who was literally a hazard to one’s health.

But then, just as you got back to your seat, younearly tripped over yourself in shock when you got to the booth and the back of the seated man’s head was definitely not the man you’d come into the bar with.

You’d know those fluffy brown locks anywhere.

“Dazai, what the fuck?!“ you said, then remembered to lower your voice into a hiss, anger coming to you in a sharp burst, like opening a bottle that’s been shaken up first. “You can’t just come in here and- “

Dazai turned his head and your ranting abruptly halted. His face was devoid of its usual playful smirk and the sparkle of mischief in his eyes, eyes that looked brown but when the light hit them just right, they got this golden sheen that looked just like honey…

You were distracted for a second, and Dazai’s voice cut through the fog.

“I don’t have time to explain, we have to move now.”

Something in his voice froze your anger – it had dropped an octave from his usual light-hearted, teasing tone he often adopted to annoy Kunikida or trick Atsushi into doing something for him. No, Dazai wasn’t playing around, and your stomach dropped when you caught the look on his face.

More questions teemed on your tongue, but he was standing up, up, out of the seat and away from the little booth, grabbing your arm as he rushed by. Your half-finished drink lay abandoned and unpaid for – you knew Dazai had a habit of dine and dashing and apparently he was putting it to good use now.

He dragged you through the kitchen, so quickly that the yells of surprise from the cooks were already far behind you as he opened the door to the back of the bar and you’d stepped into the cool outside air. Dazai didn’t pause in his stride or let go of your arm and you realised to your chagrin that you’d left your jacket behind in the booth. You could only hope some kind soul would hand it in to the place to hold onto, though they might not feel like returning it since you’d just disappeared without paying for your drink.

“Dazai, slow down-" you said, doing your damndest to keep up with him – you’re not exactly dressed for running. “What’s going on?”

“Your date isn’t just your average Joe, I’m afraid.” Dazai replied, grimly, apparently deciding that telling you something was more practical than refusing to go into detail and risking a mutiny. “I’m not sure where you found this guy, but he’s there to try and pump information about the Armed Detective Agency from you.”

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly – you barely had time to register the chilly sting of disappointment, like cool air from a fast moving vehicle whipping by you.

“What the fuck – how could you possibly know that?” you spluttered, before another, unwelcome possibility struck you. “Were you… following me?!”

“Of course I was.” He said, in a voice that sounded a bit more like his usual one – that annoying, teasy, I-know-something-you-don’t-know tone that usually got him slapped upside the head by Kunikida.

Your indignant squawk was cut off when he wrenched at your arm and suddenly, you’d stopped running and were enveloped in cool darkness. He’d found some kind of little snicket that somebody passing at a reasonable pace would probably have missed. You’re not surprised that Dazai was well-acquainted with hidden away little spots like that.

“Dazai-" you said again, frustrated and slightly out of breath – why was he stopping?

“Ssh.” He said.

In the distance you could hear the screeching of a car – no, more than one car – and an even more distant wailing of sirens. His arms caged you in and he was staring over his shoulder intently, like a fox that has heard the baying of the hounds.

“No doubt the Port Mafia’s goons are out looking for their little friend now.” He muttered, more to himself than you. It was like he’d forgotten you were there. “It’s for the best if this doesn’t get traced back to the Armed Detective Agency.”

Your mouth felt dry suddenly, noting the calculating look in Dazai’s eyes and unease crawled up your back. It’s so easy to forget that Dazai used to be one of them, that he knew the way they think and that he’s capable of switching back into that mode with frightening ease. Just because you’re co-workers didn’t mean you knew much about him, and you’re being made painfully aware of that fact right now.

“Dazai…just what did you do?” you asked, and you couldn’t hide the faint hitch in your voice.

Did he drag the guy outside and kill him? Was that why the police sirens were coming closer? If you pulled back the front of his coat right now, would his immaculate white shirt be splattered with still-wet blood? Does he think you told the guy something valuable? You didn’t think Dazai would hurt you – but you couldn’t be completely, one-hundred percent sure.

What did you really know about Osamu Dazai?

“Don’t worry. The Port Mafia don’t take kindly when you mess with one of their own,” Dazai said, seemingly able to discern your mounting fears with a glance, perhaps the look in your eyes or the tremor when you spoke gave you away. “He’ll live, but he’ll think twice before he tries using someone from the Agency like that.”

Thank god for that. You think – not that you would have lost too much sleep over one ex-Port Mafia member, but the thought of being stuck in a tiny space with a man who had just recently murdered someone wasn’t exactly the kind of exciting activity you’d hoped for tonight.

“So, we should get out of here,” you said, swallowing. “While they’re still swarming the bar.”

“Not yet. They’ll be looking for people running for public transport.” Dazai replied, his voice so certain that you didn’t question him further – why would you? This was all new territory for you, whereas Dazai had been doing this kind of thing since he was fifteen.

“So then what-?”

But you both fell silent as you heard something else – voices, drawing closer. Dazai swore softly under his breath, and he leaned in a little closer to you like he was trying to shield you from view with his body. You could feel yourself starting to sweat from the intensity of it, fighting back a grimace as you felt a trickle of it sliding down the length of your upper arm. Fuck.

"I'm sorry," Dazai said, after a beat, when the voices had drawn so close that you swore any second - any second! – they were going to find you and maybe kill you, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears.

 And Dazai truly sounded regretful - he really was a good actor.

 “I'm going to have to kiss you."

He didn't give you pause to process his words, which came to you as if from far away, floating to your ears, because the next thing you knew, long slender fingers were cupping your jaw, turning your face and his mouth was sliding over yours.

Most first kisses are awkward, fumbling affairs. Getting used to someone else's rhythm, trying not to do something awkward and mood-killing like clash teeth or bite the other person's tongue can slow things down, cause a few seconds where the spell is broken.

Kissing Dazai - or rather, being kissed by him, was nothing like that.

He kissed you like he'd been given a guide. Like he knew you, intrinsically and deeply, and knew the inner workings of your mind and mouth better than you did. One hand stayed cradling your jaw, the other one slid down, and his long, elegant fingers wrapped around your waist, pulling you in until you were pressed flush against him. It didn’t escape your notice that his crotch was also touching you and you were decidedly grateful his mouth was firmly joined with yours, or you might have actually whimpered out loud.

How often had you dreamed of this? Your nights had been full of sordid little fantasies of Dazai, of dropping your guard and confessing to him, and then, in your mind, he’d smile and tell you he’d always known, before he kissed you. Or depending on how raunchy you were feeling, other times you’d picture him just sweeping everything off your desk in a dramatic gesture and fucking you right then and there on the desk?

And all of it had seemed so stupid and pathetic than you’d be stinging with shame after your late-night fantasies reached their climax, lusting so hard over someone who probably barely noticed you were present in the room. Falling for Dazai’s looks was one thing, but you saw what he was like on a day-to-day basis, how he was lazy and unprofessional and sometimes kind of an asshole. But cold logic would not touch your yearning.

And now, in this cold, cramped little forgotten pocket of Yokohama, Dazai was putting your daydreams to shame. Your lips tingled as if you’d kissed something with a high voltage, heat surging along your bloodstream. Dazai’s touch was gentle but firm and the way he tilted his head, angling yours at his preference, sent a thrill chasing down your spine.

The voices were now right across from you, within arm’s reach, but Dazai felt you stiffen in fear and simply deepened the kiss, holding you tightly to him.

“Nevermind. Nobody’s here ‘cept some lovebirds.” A man’s rough voice said and it sounded so close, you could practically smell him, but you forced yourself to tune him out like someone deep in the throes of passion would, to sink into the sensation of Dazai’s hands on you, his tongue slipping into your mouth, the pleasant scent of him, sort of like freshly-cut wood and whisky.

“Come on, let’s go this way, they probably took the subway.”

The footsteps go the opposite direction, you hear one of the Port Mafia grunts swearing as he walks through a puddle, and the fear pricking you recedes. Dazai had one eye open, scanning behind you, before he finally breaks the kiss and pulled back. You felt bereft, but you were also seized by the abrupt urge to laugh at the sparkly smudge of gloss on the corner of his mouth.

“Nicely done,” Dazai remarked, his eyes cutting down at you, and his lips curved in a smirk. “Almost like it was real.”

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound ironic, but you sounded far too breathy to be sufficiently aloof. “Almost.”

Dazai’s hand had not left your waist yet and he stepped out of the hiding place, pulling you after him.

“Stay close to me,” he instructed, his voice husky. “We’re not out of danger yet.”

You nodded and wiped your mouth on the back of the wrist.

With Dazai, danger was a given. You just hoped you’d come out of it in one piece – in more ways than one. But your voice was steady as you answered;

“Then let’s go.”